yup, definitely the second time around.

Yesterday, I took Kleptobaby to her first Gymboree class. The same kind of class that I couldn't wait to take Mini-hubbie to when he was her age. Back then, it was exciting to be around other mothers with kids my kid's age. Exciting to see how my kid reacts, see what things he'll learn, find some new activities I can do at home with him, etc.

This time all I kept thinking was "I'm going to pay $75 a month for this?" Maybe my expectations are starting to rise for classes since Mini-hubbie is actually learning skills now. But seriously, this is what I used to look forward to? Now, I'm not knocking the class, it was fine. But this time around, I didn't want to talk to the other mothers on how to encourage our kids to walk (I now know better) or what their nap schedules look like.

One exercise, the teacher puts each child on a large ball and as she rolls the ball forward tells you to look at your kid's toes. As your child gets close to the ground, their toes flex anticipating the upcoming "fall." All the new mothers "oohh-ed" and "ahhh-ed" over this. I just felt like "so?"

Boy have things changed for me! There is such a difference between the first time mother and the "seasoned" mother. Poor Kleptobaby!

I have a dirty little secret.

All meat and dairy that enters this house must be hormone free. I only use "green" cleaners now, avoiding all toxic chemicals. I'm extremely picky on which sun blocks my family uses. We're now boycotting high fructose corn syrup. Oh, and margarine is not welcome here.

But...there is only little item I haven't been able to successfully place on the chopping block.

Diet Coke.

Oh, how I go week in the knees over the stuff. One for breakfast, two around lunch, one mid-afternoon, dinner, evening, before bed....need I go on? I easily go through a 12 pack every other day. Do I know how bad saccharin is for me? Yup. But I've been powerless to it's bubbly sweetness.

How can I deny my kids of cool roll-ups, certain candies, etc but then pop the top of another DC for myself? So, I'm stopping!

This week, I'm allowing myself 3 DCs a day. Next week 2. The following week 1....then NONE. Done.

This is going to be a long next couple weeks, but I really am going to quit this habit!
Wish me luck!

Bad mommy day.

Can you tell it wasn't the easiest day? My baby is a bit of a drama queen.


She's going for it!


Oh yes, she's gone for gold!! Is this not the best screaming face ever?

This child is going to kill me. She is either the easiest, smiliest, most playful little thing or as you can see a demon child. I'm absolutely dreading her terrible twos. Mini-hubbie was so different, I don't feel prepared or equipped to handle this bipolar baby. I just don't have the patience I wish I possessed. When the kids are rational, I absolutely love being at home with them. When they just completely go off the deep end over a simple scratch, peas touching their bread, the wrong colored socks on, etc., I just feel done.

Will I feel like a better mother when they are older and more rational?

Relaxing can be just that.

Hubbie and I just got back from our trip to San Antonio. We had the most relaxing visit ever. All we did was lay by the pool, drink wine and eat wonderful food. Our hotel had a lazy river in which you sit in inter-tubes and the current just takes you around a heavily landscaped route. We even diverted off, grabbed a mimosa & bloody mary and then rejoined the route...without de-tubing! So fun.


This is the wine that has now ruined us. No longer will I be happy with our typical $12-15 bottles of wine. If you have a special occasion coming up, it's a goodie!

Oh and for the record, there is no #3 on its way. I'm not sure why a married couple can't take a little break together without everyone asking if we were working on #3. And I do mean, EVERYONE asking. We're good with the two we have but we're still gonna have sex, deal with it.

Mother of the Year?

Why does "food" like this earn "Mom, you are the BEST!!!!"? While dinners that I work hard on are only greeted with groans and moans?

Shoot, it's the same way even with a one year old.


Do you think a plate with my stuffed chicken breasts, marinated cherry tomatoes, and tossed salad even gets this clean?

be careful what you ask for.

If you request your family come in their "comfy clothes/pjs" for a bday party, you just might be greeted with this.

Artistic Inspiration comes from anywhere.

Ogre Odor. Smashed Pumpkin. Gargoyle Gas.

Up till now, Mini-hubbie has shown absolutely no artistic talent or even desire, despite coming from two designers. Usually his "drawings" look something like this.



Enter Crayola's Silly Scents crayons, and Volia! The boy has skills! Seriously, I wouldn't believe Mini-Hubbie drew this had Hubbie not watched him draw it. Apparently, it's a self portrait. Hubbie is now trying to teach him Flash so he could start earning his keep.

redeeming myself.

See, I don't just take pictures of her crying.

Am I mean?

I like taking pictures of my child crying.

It's not that I like her crying, in fact her tears make me feel horrible and powerless at times. She's just so darn DRAMATIC! Really take a look at theses pictures. What is that devastating to draw this response? Her bottle not prepared to the correct temperature? Her crib sheeting has lost its downy freshness?





Maybe I take these pictures because I've survived her 5 months of colic?

Looking at these pictures reminds me just how far we've come. Anyone whose dealt with colic knows where I'm coming from. I should design a little ribbon pin for colic survivors. Maybe a ribbon with frayed edges? Tied in a really tight knot? Hey, I might be onto something here. This ribbon will save innocent bystanders from making stupid comments as you're wait in line, baby screaming as if she were on fire, so you can pay for the formula and get the hell outta there.

"Oh, she must be hungry." Don't say that.
"Poor little lamb." Don't emphasize with the demon.
"She must be hungry." Really, don't say that!
"Well someone is not happy." No shit sherlock.
"She must be hungry." Just. Don't. Say. That.

If you know someone who is currently going through colic, give them a hug.

just eat it!

I've been saying that a lot lately. Getting mini-hubbie to eat his lunch has been quite difficult. The crusts have recently become a real hurtle to overcome. Since he's currently fascinated with Peter Pan and everything Peter Pan related, I thought I'd use it as leverage.

The Challenge!
To create something my child would eat with minimal whining. (Whining is the equivalent of water boarding to me.) I could only use what I normally give him to eat and the end result had to be a complete lunch. Yes, I do have "rules" for my own little self-challenges, just go with me here.

First I started small.

me: Hey, mini-hubbie, I made you a peanut butter and jelly Peter Pan knife.
m-h: whoa! That's awesome.
-- a few minutes pass --
me: Where's your sandwich?
m-h: Gone.
me: What do you mean gone? (I'm looking under the table, the window ledge, under his seat.)
m-h: I ate it.
me: Really?
m-h: Can I have another knife?
me: Sure honey, you can have as many knives as you'd like!

The sweet smell of success linger in the air long after lunch ended!

After my "knife" success, I moved on to slightly more elaborate Peter Pan sandwich designs. Now mind you, I only have a few minutes for my sandwich creations since I've got a now hungry 3 year old and a baby not happy about waiting in her high chair. But here's a couple of my latest.

Captain Hook


Mr. Smee (for those of you who don't see the movie on a daily basis, Mr. Smee is Captain Hook's right hand man)


Hey mom & dad, thanks for sending me to college! It's totally paying off! My bean pole just gained a pound thanks to my finely tuned artistic abilities.

changing her drawers.

The other day while waiting in the drop off lane with all the other lazy parents, I happened to notice a dad walking his son into the preschool. Dad gets point one since I'm sitting on my duff while he is walking his kid into the school. But this dad, his son and the infant in his arms are all dressed in short sleeved shirts. Sure, it's supposed to be 70 degrees today but not at 8am. Every other kid walking to school accompanied by their moms are dressed warmly with jackets. I chuckled to myself thinking I bet mommy didn't see what they left the house in. My next thought was this is something my hubbie would do. Yet another mommy / daddy divider.

When hubbie gets the kids dressed in the morning he never fails to amaze me with what he puts together. Kleptobaby will be dressed too warm, too cold, always without socks. "Does her hair really need to be combed, she's only 8 months old?" he asks. I try to explain that there is no age / hair hygiene correlation but it falls on deaf ears. Now I could get picky and tell you how he had her dressed in jeans with red & blue embroidery and then a pale pink shirt.

Most kids clothing stores (Baby Gap, Gymboree, etc) usually sell their clothes in matching color themes. To me this is quite obvious just upon opening the drawers. The navy pants with the pale pink buttons goes with the pink and white striped shirt with the navy piping. Not hard. The sage green pants with the cream edging and red flower decals goes with the cream shirt with the red & green flowers on it. No advanced art degree minoring in color therory is needed here. Wrong! Hubbie has the art degree yet still can't match these items together. Man thing?

So, to avoid these fashion faux pas in the future and to help hubbie out, I've come up with a plan. In our house, the shirts go in the shirt drawer. The pants in the pants drawer. Ahhh, no longer!

Here's Kleptobaby's drawers pre-plan.

Here's Kleptobaby's drawers Hubbie proofed!



Still doesn't iron out our hair brushing differences but at least their outfits will match!

There may be other pros to the new solution. For example, on the days we are rushing out of the house, I can grab in outfit instead of hunting for matching pieces. Only time will tell if this really helps.

Now onto my sock drawer!!

Here we go...

Back in art school, it was said that making the first mark on a blank canvas was always the hardest. I've found the same is true here.

sldkfjjasldkfj....ahhh, that's better!

Domestic sketchbook is my collection of thoughts, ideas, observations on all that is being a stay at home mom. After being submersed in this for almost four years, I expected to be top of my game but still feel everyday that I'm fumbling through this experience. Everyday I cross my fingers that I cause no permanent damage. 

Food for their future therapy sessions, fine. 

Permanent damage, not so good! 

So, join me as I stumble my way through this domestic landscape filled with sticky fingers, midnight feedings, carpool lanes, peanut butter sandwiches, bear hugs, endless teacher gifts, whining, potty training, menu planning, coupon cutting, running noses, sloppy kisses, laundry, laundry and more laundry.