Something I plan on *trying* this year. I want to get to know my DSLR better, it's a good goal, and one I hope to accomplish. I'm fairly obsessed when it comes to photography, and I want to learn how to use my camera to it's fullest extent. Time to stop putting it off... I guess we'll see how it goes as of January 1st. :)
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
Do you ever see perfectly groomed women on the street? They looked polished, waxed, happy and glowing even though it's way too early for that? Perhaps with a child or two (maybe even three) with them? Happy children that aren't screaming and trying to rip each other's hair out?
I'm not one of those women. Those who know me well would consider me a pajama junkie. I own more comfortable pajama/cotton drawstring pants than jeans. It's true. I L-O-V-E some good soft pajama pants.
Also, just to be clear, I am NOT a morning person. In fact, my dream day would be from about 11am to 1am. Often I can be seen growling at anyone and anything in sight if I'm awake before the crack of nine in the morning. It can get ugly.
And because I don't think it would be a wise choice to let her walk about a mile or so to school by herself, I drive her. Most mornings we're running a little late. I've got my two and three year old in pajamas and I'm dragging them out without shoes or socks. There are usually tears from my three year old who is demanding her shoes even though she stays in the car for the short ride.
Now to the really good part.
Keep in mind here that I am the pajama queen. Although I do not wear pajamas to my daughter's school because I can almost feel the horror from the other mom's if I did.
So there I am, no makeup (because it's 8:30am and who in their right mind is up and coherent at that hour - yes, I know that is normal in the regular world.), dressed in the first jeans I pulled out of the drawer, a tee shirt and hoodie (that if I'm lucky, will not have smeared banana or whatever other sticky mess my two year might have managed to wipe on me), lucky if I've managed to snag a shower before school and been able to brush my hair too. No makeup. With MOM hair pulled back to make it more dignified.
Did I mention that I run Joslyn right into the school (we live in a tiny town) then turn around and leave because she knows the way from there?
Okay, well now that I've made that known... these moms do not do that. They take out their other kids as well, then walk sweetly into the school, sign in, take their child down to their room and help them switch shoes/hang jackets/get folder out.
I leave Joslyn at the door because I leave Keira and Eden locked in the car and I can still see my car while I'm standing at the front door of the school. Completely safe, but there is no way I want to bring my two and three year old daughters inside in their mismatched pajamas (because I couldn't find one set that they hadn't hidden either the top or bottoms to somewhere else.).
Back to the moms.
Dressed in gym clothes that are completely unstained and beautiful, with perfect makeup (and who does perfect makeup when they're headed to the gym I ask you? - HA - as if I'd know what people do at a gym), gorgeous hair and a smile on their face.
"Good Morning!", One of them smiled at me the other day. I could tell she wasn't buzzing on caffeine, she was actually happy to be out and perfect looking this early in the morning. My initial reaction was to leap on her and shake her senseless (or maybe something more drastic involving a shovel and her face). But then, it's not as if I would have won (and I obviously wasn't carrying a shovel). She looked like a toned, happy, beautiful barbie. That woman would've probably had me pinned to the pavement in under five seconds, all without breaking a sweat.
I managed to keep walking and smile (okay, that last part might have been a lie, it was probably more of a scowl, but she kept smiling at me anyway).
Now, I've come to a horrifying realization about these yoga moms. Their children are the same ages as mine, and I WILL be seeing them for years to come.
Point? I've started a running program to get in shape. I figure if I can't have makeup and be beautiful that early in the morning, at least I'll have a nice body underneath my torn AE jeans and hoodie. Take that gorgeous yoga mom!
Posted by Tasha at 10:54 AM
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Do you remember that high school teenager that could run? I mean... actually run. I'm not talking about running after your three year old, or the dog when it tracks mud onto your freshly cleaned floors. I'm not even talking about when you catch your one year old stuffing crayon into her mouth and you have to chase her down before she chews (and swallows) them.
Once upon a time, twenty years ago (okay, not really-- it was nine), I could run. Not in track or anything (ha!), but I didn't feel as if I needed to catch my breath just chasing down a runaway five year old in Walmart.
This year, I WILL get into shape. My friend told me the other day that we're going to do a couch to 10k run. Yes, there was a 'we' in there. At this point I can't imagine a mile, let alone 10K. I'm not certain if she's delusional, or if she's conspired with my husband to murder me.
So that's goal numero uno this year. One hot mom body coming up. Hopefully.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
As a mother, if you haven't had at least one poop 'fiasco' then I just don't know what is wrong with your children, Ha-Ha-Ha (think of that being said in an exhausted, very sarcastic tone). I'm lucky enough that I've had at least one with each child. Perfect? I think so.
Now, let me explain my hours to you. My children go to bed at around 9pm. After that is my writing and editing time. It isn't unusual for me to be up until 2am writing. Especially when my husband is on a night shift.
Fast forward to last night. It was a night like any other. Nothing special or unusual. I was up until one thirty in the morning doing some writing. By that time I was feeling completely exhausted and decided it was time to go to bed. (My one year old has not been sleeping well lately, which means I don't sleep either.)
I climbed the stairs, trudged down the hall and opened my bedroom door.
The smell hit me like a linebacker. It was entirely unexpected and completely gag worthy. In fact, if said linebacker had come charging out of my room, I would have been less surprised. (Okay, not really...)
After telling myself it was only poop and that I would try to keep Eden asleep while I changed her... I stepped into the room.
At this point I was thinking I hope I didn't wake her up while I changed her. THAT was before I turned on my bathroom light and saw what had gone on. Apparently someone (me) had changed her diaper and put it on crooked. What must have happened after that... I assume control was lost and playtime began.
My precious, adorable, sleeping little baby had poo EVERYWHERE. I had no idea where to begin. It was nearing two in the morning and I still didn't want to wake her up.
At first I was thinking a towel. A wet towel until morning and then I'll hose her down. But that didn't fix the bedding problem.
And so I woke her up. She giggled and laughed and cooed while I stuck her nekked bum in the shower and hosed her off. I do believe that she had danced in the poo, it was the only explanation I could think of for why she had it up to her calves but then nothing from her waist up (thankfully).
Once the shower was over, I stripped the bedding, cleaned the crib bars and got a fresh diaper put on the little one.
It was a dirty job, but I did it. It took me until two thirty, but she was clean, the crib was clean, the sheet and blankets were clean, and I could go to bed.
Fast forward an hour to when my sweet, precious baby was still awake and trying to talk to me. Banging her crib into the wall and chatting away like we were sitting down for tea and cookies.
Eventually she went to sleep. I was nearing incoherent by that time, however, and so I don't remember what exact time it was.
Moral of the story? Take the time to make certain both bum cheeks are in the diaper.
I was able to laugh about the entire thing while I was going about cleaning her, so I guess not all is lost. After all, if a parent can't laugh at themselves anymore, they're in big trouble.
Posted by Tasha at 9:21 AM
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Posted by Tasha at 1:46 PM
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Yes, we did it. Insane? Quite possibly :) But I admit that freely. What is 'it' you may ask? 'It' is actually a 'he' and 'he' is our new pup.
Posted by Tasha at 2:17 PM
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
For awhile now I've had certain 'goals'. Things I felt that were NEVER going to get done. For lack of some motivation and lack of time... lack of a bit of everything, really.
Posted by Tasha at 10:43 AM