Oops! Does this count as a first word?

The other day I was helping Alexis learn to walk while my mom took a video. I was crawling next to her so that I could catch her if she fell.

What I didn’t realize was that my…breasts…were popping out of my shirt.

I forwarded the video to my husband because I was so proud of Alexis and the text I got back said, “OH MY GOD,  your tata’s stole the show!”

I started laughing at his text and said, “TATA! Too funny.”

Alexis looked up at me while I was laughing and said, “TATAS!”

Oops! Does that count as a first word?

I guess I have to watch what I say from now on.


I have been considering going back to school to get my master’s degree.

I did some research, found the college I would like to attend, and then realized it would take me two years to complete the required classes, along with an additional year to write my thesis.

Do I have the time, the energy, the focus, or the drive to actually do this?

The incident that took place earlier today answered the above question.

I was feeling uncomfortable all morning. Every time I sat down it felt like I was sitting on something, but each time I looked beneath me nothing was there.

I decided to just ignore it because I didn’t have the time or the energy to look into the source of my discomfort.

As the day went on the feeling of uneasiness remained and my lack of interest in finding the source persisted.

The girls and I played, we went for a walk, we ate lunch, and then I put them down for a nap.

While they were napping I decided to take a shower and as I was undressing a sock fell out of my underpants.

I had a sock in my underpants all morning long!

I have no idea how it got there.

How could I not have noticed while I was getting dressed this morning?

Along with this, why didn’t I consider this scenario earlier? I felt like I was sitting on something yet nothing was visibly there…it must be in my underpants. Sounds reasonable enough…NOT!

I am guessing I didn’t consider this as an option because WHO HAS SOCKS IN THEIR UNDERPANTS?

I’ll tell you who doesn’t have socks in their underpants…people enrolled in college to earn a master’s degree.

Until I can dress myself properly I think I will put the notion of returning to school on hold. There is no way I have the time, the energy, the focus, or the drive at this point in my life.


My husband finds it hilarious when Alexis spits all over me during mealtime. He actually encourages this behavior…as long as I am the one feeding her.

Tonight, before my husband came home from work, I put on one of his sweaters. When he got home from work he sat down next to me and started laughing as Alexis spit her food at me. It landed in my hair, on my face, and on HIS shirt!

He spoke words of encouragement as she blew raspberry after raspberry.

“Good job Lexi. Mommy loves when you spit food at her…Wait…is that my shirt? Are you wearing my shirt? Is there sweet potato and applesauce all over my shirt? OH MAN! Ok that’s enough spitting Lexi.”

GOTCHA!  Luckily my husband is a good sport and laughed it off.

Maybe he won’t encourage this behavior anymore. 🙂 

In Search Of A Mother’s Helper

I currently have a fantastic mother’s helper that assists me in caring for the girls four times a week. I decided to hire her when I realized a good portion of my time was being spent cleaning up after the girls instead of playing with them.

Having a mother’s helper allows me to play with my daughters all day long while someone else takes care of the cleaning and the organizing. Unfortunately, she is returning to school full time and I will soon need to fill her position.

I have been browsing different caregiver web sites and am shocked by some of the things I am seeing.

If you are a caregiver, or are attempting to become a caregiver, don’t do the following in your profile picture…

Show cleavage.

Make a sexy face.

Make an angry face.

Make a pout face.

Or…have a screaming child in the picture with you.

The list can go on and on but I will stop there.

I don’t understand what some of these women are thinking. Before I even read their profile I look at their picture. I know…don’t judge a book by it’s cover. Well when it comes to my kids and who is going to spend time with them I will judge a book by its cover. I won’t hire someone who portrays themselves as promiscuous or angry.

Don’t get me wrong; I am not one of those women who refuse to hire someone good-looking. My current mother’s helper is a beautiful blonde. It has nothing to do with that. But I will take the profile picture into consideration before contacting someone. So if you are attempting to be a caregiver, wear something respectable in your profile picture and smile. 🙂

I can’t be the only one this happens to

Before I had the girls I was an elementary school teacher. 

When speaking to my students I would say things such as…

Thank you for being so helpful my friend.

Let’s all press our silent buttons before we enter the hallway.

Now, now, let’s relax and talk about how we are feeling.

So… when I came home from work it was difficult to transition from one role to another and on occasion I would say things to my husband such as…

I would love it if you would set the table my friend.

I’m sleeping; press your silent button.

Now, now, let’s not get upset. Share your feelings.

Well…now that I have the girls I speak a certain way with them and it is happening all over again.

When speaking to the girls I say things such as…

Did we go potty?

Time for yum yums, sit nicely while mommy gets your lunch.

Shall we go night, night?

So… on occasion I say things to my husband such as…

I will be going to the potty now; can you watch the girls?

Did you enjoy your yum yums?

Time for night, night; I am going to bed.

I wonder what kind of nonsense is going to come out of my mouth when I go back to work and I am a mother, a wife, and a teacher. 


Asthma runs in my family and so when my friend showed up at my house smelling like smoke I had a bit of a panic attack.

I seriously looked like one of those police dogs that search for drugs, as I smelled her up and down.

Below is the conversation that took place.

Me: “Hi…Wait I smell smoke. I am serious, you smell like smoke.” I said as I started sniffing her.

Friend: “Are you seriously sniffing me? I don’t smoke.”

Me: “Someone that lives with you must smoke.”

Friend: “My boyfriend smokes.”

Me: “Can you change your outfit before you play with the girls?”

Friend: Oh my god. Really?”

Me: “Yea really.”

We head upstairs to my closet and I grab the first two things off of the shelf, which ended up being a pair of maternity sweat pants, and a fancy shirt.

She goes into the bathroom, changes, and comes out looking ridiculous.

Friend: “What the hell am I wearing? These pants are huge and they don’t even match the shirt.”

Me: “ You look fine.” I said through muffled laughter.

Friend: “ Are these maternity pants? Am I wearing your maternity pants?

Me: “Uh yea, I think so. Just wear it and let’s go play with the girls.”

I thought my friend was going to kill me but I am paranoid about smoke and don’t want the girls anywhere near it.  Thankfully, she is a good sport. I am sure there will be payback one day when she has kids.


If I know someone is planning a surprise for me I…

Interrogate them.

Snoop around.

Listen in on conversations.

And… ultimately figure out what the surprise is.

I know it is terrible but I just can’t help myself. I have to be in the know; it’s part of my nature. I am unable to wait for the unexpected to happen.

Along with this I have a hard time keeping surprises a secret. I get such a strong urge to blurt out what is being planned. Because of this no one in my family was shocked when I gave the girls their birthday gifts two months early. There was no way I was going to be able to hide their tricycles for that long.

I didn’t even try to keep their presents a secret. I brought them in the house, put them in front of the girls and yelled, “Happy birthday! Two months early!”

The girls did not mind one bit. They are in love with their new tricycles. They will have plenty of gifts to open on their actual birthday. So far they have ridden their new tricycles in the park, around our neighborhood, and even in our house. Their dad and I are having so much fun watching them enjoy themselves.


Can I help You?

Today, my husband and I took the girls to the mall.

We sat down and drank a cup of coffee.

We bought the girls a few dresses.

We looked for some outfits for ourselves.

And…the girls had a major meltdown IN PUBLIC.

First, Brielle started crying.

We initially tried rocking her to sleep in her stroller.

It didn’t work.

After that, my husband picked her up and cradled her in his arms.

She still continued to cry.

Once Alexis realized Brielle was no longer in the stroller she started crying as well.

We now had two screaming babies in a crowded mall.

We tried everything we could think of to get them to settle down.






Nothing worked.

Slowly people started looking in our direction and many thoughts began passing through my mind. 

Can I help you?

Like your kids never cried in a public place before.

Keep on walking.

Are you enjoying the show?

I of course kept these thoughts to myself.

Since nothing was helping the girls relax,  and people were blatantly staring, we quickly packed up our belongings and hightailed it to our car.

Once we got to the car the girls were all smiles. What smart cookies. They wanted to go home and they found a way to make it happen. 

Crazy Shopping Cart Lady

Occasionally my husband and I go out with just one of our daughters to give them individual attention. Yesterday we took Brielle to the food store while Alexis enjoyed spending time with her grandparents.

My husband suggested we put Brielle in the shopping cart instead of unloading her stroller. I have not yet allowed the girls to ride in the shopping cart because I am afraid they will fall out. They may be ten-months-old but they still look so small and the cart looks so big. My husband convinced me to try it, and so I found the cleanest cart I could find and carefully covered the seat with Brielle’s pink cart cover. I then adjusted the straps and buckled her in.

As my husband and I walked through the store people kept looking in our direction. Usually when we go out people stare because we have redheaded twins. Yesterday people were staring because I was the crazy shopping cart lady.

I was leaning over Brielle with my arms wrapped tightly around her.

My stomach was pushing the cart because I so bent over.

Along with this, my cheek was pressed up against Brielle’s cheek because in my mind that helped keep her stable.

And… I was trying to grab food off of the shelves while in this position.

I don’t blame the onlookers. I would have stared as well.

Luckily this peculiar behavior didn’t last too long. I slowly became more comfortable with the idea of Brielle being in the shopping cart and bit-by-bit backed myself away from her. By the middle of our shopping trip I was pushing the cart like a normal person.

Brielle really seemed to enjoy herself and so I think we will use the shopping carts from now on. Maybe next time I won’t cling to her for the first twenty minutes!


I Didn’t Think My Hair Was Red Enough So I Dipped My Head Into A Bowl Of Carrots

carrot in hair

Mealtime at our house has become very interesting. As you know I must sing and dance for Brielle in order to get her to eat. Alexis has picked up on this and is now demanding a show as well. She sat in her highchair this morning with her mouth closed and would only eat if I made animal sounds. If you walked past my house around 7am you would have thought there were singing animals in my kitchen.

For lunch I gave Alexis steamed carrots as a side dish and she became very excited. She decided it was worth eating, no animal sounds needed. While I continued my song and dance for Brielle, Alexis picked up her carrots and happily shoved them into her mouth. I clapped for her and she did it again and again.

She got so excited about being able to feed herself that she began bouncing around in her highchair causing her head to dip forward into a bowl of pureed carrots and chicken. She lifted her head out of the bowl and gave me a huge smile. Maybe this was her way of saying she is done with the pureed food and can handle finger foods from now on.