Mr. Sandman

Woah. Remember when Joey Lawrence used to say Woah? I do. That... was funny. I even had a Joey Lawrence doll that I used to keep wearing only his underwear and a leather jacket. Cuz that... was funny.

Anyway. I say "Woah" cuz I'm so tired. Are you? I am. In fact, I don't even want to write cuz I'm so tired. I just want to cuddle up in the family bed in between Effie and Celia and go to sleep, and have some weird dreams. Speaking of weird dreams, I'll never tell you how weird my dream was the other day cuz you'd have a heartattack. Alex on the other hand, thought it was hilarious.

As tired as I am, I can't help but think of my 5 blog followers "ahem.. cough cough, hint hint" (see below), and how much I want to please them and write a tad bit.

For the first time ever, Effie fell asleep just after I put her down, covered her up, and let my sister say "shhhh" to her for about 12 seconds. If you are a mommy, you know how amazing this can be after you usually either rock, nurse, sing, drive, stroller, or do whatever you can in all your power to put a kid to sleep. It was so nice. Thanks Cathie. She should go to bed at about 8 tomorrow night, so please get there a little early ok?
hehehehe.

Some of you may or may not know that weaning never really happened. Well, it did for about 3 weeks, then the little sucker was waking up at 5am wanting to chill out, read, eat, or whatever, and she wanted to do all those things with me OUT of the bed, so I said - "what the hell" and let the child have ze ze again. You should have seen her. She was SO happy.

Having a few hours more sleep really did me some good, and to my surprise the milk was not gone, but after another month, the little addict started to get a little coo coo for her ze ze, so I decided to wean again the other day before things got worse or more difficult. She was like a little crack head, getting all crazy and jittery and having anxiety attacks for it, and now - again, after a couple nights of peace and no more ze ze again, I vow to stand my guard. I even had a dream that someone I used to know said to me, "Sara! Stick to your guns" (when talking about weaning) So, I'll take that as a sign/message, and do so. Even though, it's a little sad when your kid grows up.

We asked her the other day if she was a baby or a big girl now, and she said "baby". The destructor would get mad if we called her a big girl. Oh well. I don't mind. I don't want her to grow up and get an attitude. It's already bad enough.

Besides all that fun stuff, another fun thing happened the other day. It was another Sunday, and Alex once again said "Let's go to the beach". This time, I didn't freak out, cuz I had food ready to go, we had a full tank of gas, and the children had eaten a proper breakfast, and I had an hour to prepare, so I plopped the kids on the couch with their babysitter "Clifford the Big Red Dog dvd#4" and packed up in no time.

It was too freakin windy at the beach. I mean, blow your children over, and get lots of sand in the eyes too windy - so we went to Malibu State Creek. Which was cool. If you haven't been there, you should go. But don't go on a Sunday, cuz very loud Central American Churchy groups go there to sing real loud at the creek, and they might ask you to join them.

Anyway, Celia and Effie had fun walking in the creek that was about 2 degrees warm, and then they stood in bike paths making sand castles, then we took a little walk, and then we ate some berries, and then we changed Effie's diaper on a tree stump, and then Effie fell asleep in my arms carrying her back to the car, and then Alex and Celia raced each other to the parking lot, and then Celia tripped and cut up her knees cuz God forbid the child ever wear pants - cuz princesses do not wear pants, but after all the blood she saw she said she can make an exception now and wear them when we are "hiking at the creek".

Needless to say, that was torture. Being a mom can really suck when you have to watch your kid scream bloody murder while her dad flushes dirt out of a deep, fleshy, nasty, dirty, dirt infested wound. Yuck. Yucky yuk yuk. Ewww. Yuckz. Nasty. Wakala. Fuchy. I pray that my kids never get a cut like that again. And if they do, I'll just let the emergency room handle it, even if it's a paper cut, cuz I'm not doing that again. No way. Well, if it does happen, maybe I'll run them over to my mom's house, cuz she's tough. I bet she can handle it. But no. Not me. Not again. No mre. Yuck.

OK. Enough again. I'll hit you cats up next week for more stories. Hopefully they are pleasant. But knowing "The Destructor" and my little princess, I'm not sure if they will be. But lets all hope.

Hot in the day, Cool at night

My wrist really hurts from using this dumb computer so much. So, I can't write my life story today. Sorry.

But I can write a little bits.

How is everyone? I can't help but want to talk to each one of you personally, to see what cha been up to, how you've been, and to just catch up. But there's no time. At least we can connect for a second, while you read and remember that I'm thinking of you.

Post Effie Birthday week has been beautiful. If any of you made it outdoors at all this week, you know what I'm talking about. November is special. I think we are getting a little too obsessed with taking our family on outings to thrift stores, but I got some cool stuff this week, including a keytar. Yeah, a keytar. My dream come true. ha.

So, I was washing dishes, yeah, as usual, just staring at my reflection in the dark through my dirty kitchen window, and it was quite grueling. I mean, there were SO many dishes, and I think I even used a paper plate or two today. They just didn't end. I think I heard the same news on the radio about 7 times before I finished. Sometimes I consider wearing those fancy yellow gloves while I wash, cuz my hands are all callused and kind of messed up, but whatever. Maybe they are mommy battle scars of such.

Sometimes the only time I get to talk with the huzband is late at night, when you are delirious with fatigue, and last night we were talking about all the people we grew up with who ended up being drug addicts or jailbirds and all that kind of nice stuff. Then I was telling him about how I used to be on the phone all the time using 3-way, you know - party line - conference calls - whatever, and he's like "Woah, 3 ways? With who?" I couldn't stop laughing. Even though I knew he was acting dumb, it was so funny I think I fell asleep laughing.

Yesterday we went to the observatory - yeah, to say hi to Hershel and watch the planetarium show, and on the way out, Alex was horsing around with Celia and she very seriously said to him "Dad, you are not funny." It hurt his feelings.

Today I yelled at Celia for something lame, probably cuz I was hungry, and tonight while I was putting her to bed, I said "Celia, I'm sorry for yelling at you today. That wasn't nice of me, I know." Then she replied, "Mom, that's ok, you know I love you, and I forgive you." I had no idea she knew what forgiveness was. Impressive. That kid is TOO funny.

And my little mute said 4 words in a row today! Not on her own, but nonetheless she said "Soap in my hand". Little Effie goo goos destructor is the best. And she is a destructor. She dropped whip cream on multiple kitchen chairs today, put a dish rag in a cup of chocolate milk, spilled split pea soup out on the table while I wasn't watching so she could rub her hands in it, sat in a container in the backyard filled with water and rubbed mud on her face after eating blue paint, and right before bed she found her favorite thing (chapstick), but it was a Push Up Strawberry flavored lip balm, and while I was reading the Bearenstein Bears I looked over and her whole face was red with chunks of Strawberry lip stuff. She always looks so proud of her destructor ways.

Well, the radio is still on in the kitchen, and I have to dry those dishes, fold clothes, clean the stove, and try to organize my life, but even though the gloom of the kitchen lies ahead, I'm so happy, cuz I made 2 extra meals today so that I will have my family well fed all weekend. Let me know if you're hungry, I made a extra.

Happy 2nd Birthday Effie Rosey Goo Goos

Since I don't really write in a journal/diary anymore, I'll write about Effie's birthday, just to have it recorded somewhere.

Around 3pm after we took a nap while the girls watched Care Bears, we decided to begin Effie's birthday bash, just the four of us.

We asked the big sister what she thought would be fun for her little sister, and she said a party at Griffith Park.

So we went there.

Celia kept looking for all the guests, but we told her it was a private party, and she seemed to understand, and Effie was quite happy on the see-saw as usual.

Celia has a new digital camera, so she took many pictures of the event.

They got sandy and stinky enough, so we then proceeded to the next part of the birthday festivities.

We embarked on a mission to get Effie a Minnie Mouse toy at the mall.

We rarely go to the mall, so we tried to park as close to our destination store as possible to avoid any encounters. God forbid people think we are normal and go to the mall. Ha ha. You know I'm messin.

We made it to the Disney Store, not before we explained to the first born that she could not have a gift, cuz she already had a snazzy digital camera, and it wasn't her birthday. She was only upset cuz Effie didn't choose a fancy princess present. She decided on two $4 MInnie dolls. Minnie cheerleader, and Minnie fancy green dress. Score for us. And as a bonus, Celia was excited for her sister.

We then proceeded to the parking lot, but not before Celia insisted on a hot dog on a stick. (Thanks Becky) So we took her. There in line, Effie met another Minnie obsessed child. How fascinating.

Eating was not as painful as it can be at times. No yelling, spilling, falling, crying. Score.

The departure from the mall was also easy. No one hassled us, I only ran into 2 people I knew, and Celia didn't mind not going into the pet store. It was time for private birthday party adventure part 3.

Library or cake? Hmmm. What were we to do next?

We skipped the library. I was already tired, but the night was young.

We made it to a ghetto party store in Glendale, where the girls got happy birthday balloons. Effie got a ...... can you guess??? A minnie balloon. Celia got a Tinker Bell one. It was interesting. Again, no crying, gimmie gimmies, or Effie accidents. Score.

The night continued. Bowling? Cake? What to do. So we went to the Goodwill.

There were 3 vintage toys in the box for sale. A She-Ra Princess of Power Horse, another Enchanted Pegasus toy, and a radical set of 4 animal cups from the 70's, and a ridiculously large box of zoo animal figures and dinosaurs. Score. Plus, the mean ass manager hooked up a deal even though she said she was in a bad mood.

Birthday Party adventure was not over, however the kids were getting cranky. Celia insisted on holding the She-Ra toy and promised not to open it. I told her she can't have it until I determine its value. Since it's only worth about $30 bucks, I may just let her play with it, or give it to Cathie for Christmas. Either way, there was still no excessive crying or whining so we were in good shape.

After a quick stop at the bank, we made it to Whole Foods, where Effie and I ran out to pick her birthday cake. She chose a $4 mini cheesecake, and I got a chocolate one for the older kid. Done.

6 destinations later, we made it home. After a good hand scrubbing we sang Happy Birthday and Effie learned how to say "Two" after being asked how old she was. Score.
She liked whip cream more than the cake (as usual) and once she had her full, she began to squish cake and cream in her fists and then rub her fists in cups of milk then slurp on her fists. The Destructor was happy. And so was I.

Good night everyone.

"Ask and You Shall Receive" plus a "Secret of Life"

1. This is my second blog of the night - so be sure to keep reading.
2. I have a lot to say so just chill out, relax, and read on if you like.
3. I didn't draw this portrait. Some kid drew a picture of me.
3. Remember, as I have said before: Do not take my advice.
4. Some things I say right now may be shameful things Dr. Laura would not approve of.

So, I've been doing some laundry for the past couple of hours only because I think tonight is daylight savings night, which means I have an extra of hour of life. Wonderful.

All this cleaning has really done a job on my brain. The more I fold clothes, the more my desires in life come out into the open. I want new chonies, and new cheese grater, some aluminum foil, and fabric softener.

The more I think about the things I want, I think about the people who help me. And for those of you who take time out of your own busy schedules each week to help me care for my kids - (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! YES YOU!) I want you to know how much it means to me, and THANK YOU and I LOVE YOU! And thank you ALSO to those who give pets and presents to my children. And to those who hook me up with their old clothes. And for those who hang out at my house every once in awhile and play Go Fish or tea with my kids while I cook, make cookies, or wash dishes. Thank you. You rock.

And you know what? This all leads to something else that was racing through my head tonight - and that is - women are much more bitchy than men. You know why? Cuz men make them bitchy.

(Don't get me wrong - I'm not bitchy today and Alex has given me and my kids an amazing week but I just felt like I should write this)

And you know what? This leads to my secret of life. Men make women bitchy for various reasons.

1. They don't understand the impact of their words.
2. They do not read our minds and do exactly what we wish they would do.
3. They are much more passive.
4. They are animals of a completely different species - where we women are kind, loving, humans.

With these 4 things stated, let me tell you how I get what I want and make peace in my life (at times - not all the time)

1. I ensure to have eaten properly before yelling at my husband. Or if the bitch begins to reveal herself - he asks if I have been properly fed. If I have not been properly fed, he will then just take the blows and wait for sanity to come back into my head after eating food.

2. If the bitch comes around and I'm really tired, I take a quick nap to ensure the proper functioning of my brain.

3. If there is something I WISH my hubz would tell me that he hasn't said - I tell him the words - word for word - that I would like him to repeat in order for me to regain sanity and to contain the beast. It really works, cuz come on - guys are not mind readers - but when given instructions sometimes they follow to your surprise!

All this may seem like nonsense - and it's quite jumbled, sarcastic, and really is silly - but what I'm trying to get at, is life is not as difficult as people make it out to be. The only thing that matters is this instant. Everything that happened yesterday is over. Something that may happen tomorrow may never come. So just deal right now. (I know this is preachy - and it's hard to practice what you preach - but I can try can't I?)

So all this being said leads to the asking part.

You know what? I really, really want a new camera. Most people who read this blog ARE SUPER GENEROUS and always give me these super duper birthday presents, from gift certificates to coin purses, and I LOVE everything. And you know what? My birthday is coming up, and I can't stress how bad I want a new camera. Well, I've asked my viejo, and he may forget about it or only have the means to get me a disposable one, so I'm calling out to readers:

IF you were thinking of so generously giving me a gift for my birthday or Christmas this year - as you usually do - can you please consider a donation towards the "Sara really wants a kick ass used digital camera so she can take super pictures of her friends and kids Fund". ??

Times are tough. I know. But I believe in the power of shameless requests. Be it 3 bucks, or 15, I'll take it. And I promise it will go towards my dream camera, that will undoubtedly take your picture many times before you die.

It can't hurt to ask huh? Trust me. One day when I strike it rich, I'll return the love. All I can give you now is about 7 minutes a week of entertainment by reading my blog. You peeps who read give me much more in return. So thank you. I love you. And I better stop this insanity so that my Dad can go ahead and make a comment.

Good night
And for any men who were offended by reading this - "Suck it up, be a man and get over it. You know it's true - and if you don't fall into those categories - you're a sissy and women will love you for it!" Ha ha ha.

Sandy

Today, around 10am, Alex said "Whoooo's ready to go to the beach?"

No one said anything. My kids hadn't eaten the chorizo and eggs I made them for breakfast, but they did eat some cookies and milk, so I was making them fideos so they could eat something with a tad more nutrients. I had tons of laundry to do. Effie had already done dishes for an hour this morning. (BTW - She's quite good. I've been meaning to tell you all, but she really washes. She's fascinated with the scrubber and wasting dish soap and to top it all off - I caught her using a knife to scrape some caked-on grilled cheese off of a frying pan. I cried a tear)

Anyhow, 2 hours later, the kids watched an hour and a half of The Three Caballeros, while I:

Fed them the sopita.
Cleaned up 40% of the kitchen.
Made the bed.
Put in a load of laundry.
Got dressed.
Changed Celia from pajamas to hula gear.
Changed Effie's diaper twice.
Brushed their teeth.
Brushed my teeth.
Borrowed Mayo from the neighbor.
Made 2 chicken salad sandwiches.
Made 2 pbj sandwiches.
Packed juices.
Packed bananas.
Packed extra clothes, towels, and other stuff.
Made a vegetable/chicken soup for dinner.
Changed Celia from the hula gear to a fancy dress with a sash and rainboots.
Changed Effie from her nude self to day clothes.

Some other stuff happened, like Celia very seriously trying to learn Veracruz style Mexican folk dancing - thanks to Donald Duck, and Effie hiding inside the sofa cushions, but we made it outta the house around 12:30 and got to the beach in no time. We ate our sandwiches in the car.

When Alex says "the beach" I get a little nervous.

Well, when an outing involves SAND, lots more Sand, and Sand stuck in butt crevices. I tend to want to stay home. But I didn't say a thing and just went with the flow. Cuz I Do LOVE the beach - but with babies it can be interesting.

We got to the beach and it was rainy. I didn't say a thing.

As we walked to the beach as we passed a lovely creek with ducks, and Celia said in her over exaggerated, coy princess voice - (if you know her you know what I'm talking about)

" OOhhhh Mother!!!! Thank you SOOOO much for bringing me to the beach!!! I just Loooove walking in the dirt with my rainboots!"

The other day when we were trick-or-treating she said in front of some family -
"Ohhhhh Mother! Look at the Beeeeauuutiful stars in the sky! Aren't they LOVELY!?"

(I just shrugged and said I had nothing to do with such behavior)

Anyhow, all my fears of sand were put aside, and I just enjoyed each (as corny as it may sound) magical parent moment - even when:

Effie ate shit in the sand and a wave crashed over her head.
Effie got stuck in a big hole.
Effie got lots of sand in her eyeballs.
Effie got lots of sand in her mouth.
Effie made crunchy noises cuz sand was in her teeth.
Celia freaked out cuz she got her hair wet.
i had to clean sand out of 2 different butts.
And when I watched my car that I just washed for the first time in months get covered with SAND.

It was awesome. Thanks Alex.

I Said:

I said that I would write again this weekend cuz I had something to write about. Well, I just should have written it then, cuz I can not remember what I was gonna write about.

That kind of thing always happens to me. Like when I'm holding a set of keys, and I say to myself "I'm gonna put them right here so I don't forget where I put them", or I'll have a paper and say "I think I'll put this very important paper right here in this folder so I won't forget where I put it", and of course, I can not remember. That's the downside to being unorganized, but I'm working on it, and I haven't lost my wallet in quite awhile, knock on wood.

Thank you to the blog followers by the way.

Hmm. It's really bothering me that I can not remember what I was gonna write about. I thought about it the other night, while I was up doing all the house stuff, and now, I'm in the same boat. I've been up, surfing the internet super highway, just to read about other moms who seem to do a million more things than I do. I think they just publish books to make me look bad. Whateva. But now I'm mad that I can't remember.

Remember. Remember. Come on Sara. You can do it. I know you can. I think you can... I thought you could.

Was it about your neighbor and almost losing their cat while they were outta town? no.

Were you gonna write about the neighbors who invited you to worship with them? no.

Was it about Effie wearing lots of blue eyeshadow for the Halloween party? no.

Were you gonna write about something very strange that Alex said to you? probably.

Ok. This is hopeless. Why don't YOU tell me something about yourself? Huh? I'm tired of all this writing about me. Oh, yeah, but this IS my blog. Hmff...

This is a lost cause. The world is in chaos. The markets are down. Elections in a little more than a week. My kids are strange. I have WAY too much on my mind. And I have nothing to say. Oh well. I guess it's just one of those days. I think I'll stop wasting your time, and go read a blog about one of those super mommies. Maybe I need some inspiration.

Peace out fools. I love you all.

Just Stop Thinking

Hi Kids. Thank you to Becky, Cathie, and Lucena for signing up as blog followers. I'm glad you are not ashamed. Hee hee.

The more I think about what I should write about on any given day, the harder it becomes to write. For the past hour, I've been doing laundry, making mole, (mol-eh, a mexican dish, not an animal or an enlarged freckle), doing dishes, and surfing craigslist for fine, used, automobiles. During this time my mind has been racing with thoughts from the past week. We seem to do a lot even though at times it seems like we don't do anything.

Celia tends to have lengthy conversations with herself. We took a walk the other day and she insisted on taking out her "map" out of her "backpack", then creating some adventures prior to arriving at our destination. (too much Dora)

She also had a long conversation with her poop the other day. I'm shooting myself in the foot for not having recorded this but here are some of the things I remember her saying while she sat on the toilet. (Please don't tell her I wrote this down when she's older)

"Poop! Here comes some Pee- Pee! Watch out - you're gonna get wet!!"
"Oh No! This is a terrible situation! What are we gonna do!"
"Ha ha ha! Wait! No NO! Poo poo - please hold still!"
"Watch out or your butt's gonna get a rash!"

(this type of screaming went on for at least 15 minutes. I had to pick her up off the toilet or I'm sure it would have continued for a good hour)

Yesterday and today I found out what Effie (a.k.a. to some as the "Destructor") would do if I didn't take away her unfinished portions of food.

I gave her a bowl of rice, and a glass of orange juice. When she was done with both, she decided to mix rice into the orange juice, which she would then drink. Then she would remove grains of rice from the orange juice and put them back in the bowl, then eat them with a spoon.

Today I gave her a glass of apple juice at the table, which she mixed into a cup of mint chip ice cream. Later, she poured out the juice from the sippy cup onto the table, then rubbed her hands in it as if it were finger paint, then would rub her face and hair. She was all gross and sticky until I put an end to her destructor madness.

Yeah, my kids are perty funny. My dad witnessed a tantrum from the depths of the underworld today that I blame on a poor breakfast. Hmm. Good times. Good times.

I think I'll write again on Sunday, so stay posted. I actually had something else in mind to write about today, but I'll save it. And don't let me write any more dream entries. It seems like since I wrote that last one, my dreams have gotten weirder.

Oh - for those of you who make mole - and use the glass jars of Dona Maria to make it, put it in the blender first. What a world of difference that made. I think it takes about an hour out of the mole making time. Now I think I'll make mole sauce to pour over eggs, burritos, pizza, mint chip ice cream, or whatever.