Mom, you don't need to use an offset spatula, a butter knife will do...

Obviously, blogging has taken a backseat lately to, oh, you know maintaining a FULL TIME growing business and family, but, I seriously worry that, little moments like the ones below and snapshots of time periods in our life will fade to forgotten memories if not captured in writing. Without further ado, I'm going to really really try to write more down... "try" is the operative word in that last sentence (see how I cleverly bolded and italicized it for emphasis?!), so I'll either see you later this week.. or months..or years... we'll see!

---

We're on the cusp of Shane's third birthday and it's just a regular old Tuesday night in the Delanty household, save for the major storms rolling through this evening that has the kids joining us for an extended period of time this evening. So, in light of their later bedtime, I decided to let them help me do a little internet research - actually, to let them do some "pinterest-ing" with me, to which that almost three year old asked me, "mommy, where are the internets - where do they come from?" to which I could only answer.. ."uhh... well, I'm not sure.. probably Al Gore... " which seemed to satisfy him enough.

We decide to start by looking for some example birthday cake ideas - I have priorities people. So, from the other room, Bridget hears Shaney and I discussing baseball birthday cakes and comes sprinting in (apparently she has priorities, too) and then the following innocent enough conversation just made me realize how hilarious this time in my life is:

b: What are you making on the computer?
me: We're looking at ideas for Shaney's birthday cakes.
b: What kind of a cake?
m: I don't know, maybe a baseball field or baseball shaped cupcakes.
b: Well, well (said with that four year old - I'm so excited I can't quite get the words out as fast as my brain wants to say them) then you need to (and I swear, this is pretty much verbatem) consult (she seriously used that word) Liv (she pronounces it "leaf") Hansen in the Betty Crocker Kitchens at howdini.com.
m: What? (laughing because she recited it EXACTLY like that - you could tell it was ingrained in her little brain that way...)
b: (frustrated at my lack of knowledge, sighs and says it much louder in hopes that then I will know what she means...) LEAF Hansen from the Betty Crocker Kitchens

I realize she is referring to the you tube videos she watches on cake making on my iphone/and or ipad and is basically a walking 4 year old commercial for videos like this (one of her favs - "leaf" shows up around 30 seconds in) and this (flip flops - her "second favorite" Liv arrives sporting a short pixie cut around 20 secs this time).

While I kind of felt like a bad parent for letting her watch all these you tube videos (usually right at bed time - can you say sleep issues in her adult future) they certainly came in handy this past easter weekend as she advised me on "dome cuts" and "crumb coats" as we worked on our easter baking projects.


so, there you have it, a little snap shot into a tuesday night in the delant household.

who needs lubely's when you have your own personal mini betty crocker?

Cutest little models - even if they did ruin two of the products

More to come.. I'm saving the real gems for my site.. stay tuned!

Funny Stuff, pardon the sacreligiousness of it all though.

Subject: If Facebook Existed Years Ago…

Three months almost? Is that right?

Anywho, not that anyone is out there reading this anymore, but I wanted to preserve this video, cause 1, I love Jimmy Fallon and mark my words, one day he will be one of the funniest late night shows on tv and 2) this is pretty freaking hilarious.

So hilarious in fact, I had to make this:

Jo Frost, I'm banking on you.

Anytime I feel I've lost control of something I have an overwhelming need to reel that control back in...shocking isn't it? So after my last blog post i thought I'd show my two remaining readers what arrived today.

I'm putting my money on supernanny how about you?

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

As much as I hate to admit it, he's right

Alternate title: My parents and brother seriously still love me? How is that possible?

Hello friends, no for reals, it's me. Here I am! Hello! Apparently starting a new business endeavor completely on your own and branching off from every form of income as you previously knew it, makes for a pretty busy lifestyle. So, I'm not going to try and make up for time lost and write about all the past three months, instead I'm just going to drop a big, heaping, steaming pile of complaints and poor-me whining on y'all. So, without further ado, here we go...

I wasn't exactly the "easiest" of all children. I'm pretty sure my parents will verify this. I have memories of points in my life, in what I know was very young childhood, where I would purposefully see how far I could push my parents. I needed control, I needed to be in charge and when I couldn't be or didn't get my way, I would TRY and insight anger in them even, try to get them to break. And, when they were completely at their wits end? Oh yeah, that's when I'd push even harder.

As I result, I logged many hours in a particularly awful corner of our living room, in a perfectly awful red velvet chair known only as the dreaded "quiet chair" (basically the 1980's version of time-out). I'm pretty sure if there was a bar graph of time spent in the quiet chair, Erin vs. Mark, my brother's would look like a tiny little adobe home, that barely stuck out of the ground, but that sat next to a towering skyscraper - the largest in the world. In fact, go ahead and just look at what I found when I googled this phrase: quiet chair hours logged erin vs. mark jones. Once in that chair, I would go into silent destruction mode - I would bite, punch and pick at the threads on the chair as if to punish it for being so red and velvet and AWFUL. This sounds pretty harsh, but I'm ashamed to say it's all true. I. Was. Difficult.

Well, guess what friends? Pay back is a bitch. I thought the "terrible" two's were rough. Hahahah what did I know, it's all relative, right? I spit on you and your mild tantrums, terrible twos. YOU WERE NOTHING then and you are nothing now.

The tantrums of the first part of 2010 have been unlike anything I have ever witnessed as a parent, or actually, just as a living, breathing, human being. The only thing they remind me of is... well, myself. Oh, and also a few choice scenes from a particularly well-known movie about being possessed, save for head spinning, at least - knock on wood- so far. Oh my god, the appreciation I have for my parents is beyond words. This is really hard. To watch your sweet, loving, caring little babygirl turn to serious exorcist-type behavior is just heartbreaking. And the cause? You name it - bedtime, nap time, morning time, Shane looked at her funny, she wants her Dora shoes, she doesn't want her Dora shoes, she's breathing.

To be fair, she is not like this daily, but it does happen and honestly it happens more often then I'd care to admit. I hate to be angry with her and I hate to feel any kind of bad feelings toward her, but in those moments, the moments where she's kicking me in the stomach from her bed or refusing to say sorry to Shane while screaming the shrillest most awful screams at the top of her lungs as he stands close by with the most confused little boy look, I have to honestly say, I don't like her much. Don't get me wrong, I love the hell out of that little girl, but those times, oh those times, those times are hard. Sidebar: Li'l g, I, in all seriousness, apologize to you, too. I'm pretty sure you probably wore those same confused little brother - what the hell is wrong with my sister, she's scaring the crap out of me - looks a time or two (or forty or fifty) and honestly, 30 years later, that breaks my heart, too.

I feel like we try every technique in our arsenals and usually all of them at once during one "episode" and while I keep telling myself this is a phase and it will get better, I honestly am afraid, very afraid. Because, well, I know myself. And "myself" took a LONG TIME to stop resisting authority or restrictions, and well, umm, actually maybe I'm still working on that. And, honestly, that scares me, because she reminds me so much of myself. Yikes.

In fact, most of the time, when Tim and I are discussing what to do, or buying the latest book on "scream-free parenting" (which, btw, I do not endorse as I have yet to read this book - finding it somewhat unrealistic for me, but I'm still going to try) he likes to remind me of the unfairness of it all. He was not that bad of a child, he did not destroy furniture out of anger or even kick or hit his parents or siblings, well, except for that one thumb biting incident and I can't even remember if he was the "biter" or "instigator" in that one....so, why is he subject to this cruel karma? Fair enough, Delant, fair enough.

So, there you have it - the big pile of parent (poor-me-and-my-daughter's-tantrums) whining. Now, I would be lying if I didn't admit there's a small part of me that admires this in her. I can't help it. She is determined, driven, full of emotion and opinionated. And, even through these awful fits and scream-a-thons, she is still one of the most loving, caring little people I've ever had the privilege of knowing. Who knows, may be one day in the future she'll have trouble keeping up with her blog.. or whatever they are by then... because she is too busy taking on her own business (or even the world) so SHE can be the one in charge.

PS - If any of you have any words of wisdom/advice/so been there/hang in there sister/ about this which does not involve the following duh information:

• Don't let them get to hungry/too sleepy
• Keep a consistent bedtime routine
• Stay calm, keep your voice low

I'd love to hear it! :)

Valentine's Day fun 2010

Loving the sprinkles and chocolate -
she turned her nose up at the cream cheese frosting.. what?!?!

He, however, did not. Got milk?

I couldn't get this kid in from the snow.

Happy Valentine's Day!!

Damn Snucks

Monday, the highlights: Bridgey is running around super excited that she gets an "extra home day" because, even though she seemed totally fine, we *think* had a fever the night before (could have also been operator error on the new ear thermometer) and was coughing and up a lot so we decide to keep her home anyway; Tim is trying to beat the breakfast deadline at school with Shane since we all woke up pretty late due to aforementioned 3 year old up a lot; and the dogs are freaking out ready to eat and go out.

Tim and Shane finally get out the door and I feed the dogs and let them out while starting to retreat upstairs to finish getting ready when I hear a louder than usual commotion outside, and that's saying something. I yell to Bridget to open and let them in and shortly after she tells me she needs help. Strange, I think, but go down only to be greeted with a terrible smell in the kitchen - a terrible, unmistakable smell of.... skunk... SKUNK - Seriously!!?? SKUNK IN MY BACKYARD ??#$%@#%??!!!

Bridget says her usual bad smell line of, "Ewwwie, I smell something stinkkkkkkkyyyyyyyyy". Freaked out I go out on the deck to barely see a puff of black scurrying (I guess they scurry, right?) under my neighbor's fence. I can't even write what was going through my head or what I might or might not have said outloud as I prayed the dogs didn't actually get - bleechh - sprayed. Thankfully, somehow they didn't (although they didn't smell great) and I quickly brought them in, closed the door. Case closed, right? Dodged a stinky bullet there, didn't we? Well, except... except for the fact I have a three year old. A VERY inquisitive three year old who spent her entire home day asking the following OVER AND OVER AND OVER:

"Mommy, mommy, what is a SNUCK?"
"How did that snuck get there?"
"Where is that snuck's mommy?"
"Did the snuck go home?"
"Did Riley and Brogan eat the snuck?"
"Is the snuck going to eat Riley and Brogan?"
"Why is the snuck stinky?"
"Is it because he ate something bad?"
"Where does he live?"
"Is the snuck going to get in our house?"

Funny for us, at some point, she progressed to yelling at the snuck:

"GET OUT OF HERE SNUCK"
me -yeah, get out of here snuck

"RILEY AND BROGAN ARE GOING TO GET YOU"
me - that's not nice, we don't want the boys to get any animals

"I DON'T LIKE SNUCKS" me - why? snucks are nice, SUPER NICE in fact

"MOMMY THE SNUCK IS BACK - IT'S BAAAAAAAAAAAACK"
this was not true, but did send me running to the back door and then opened a dialogue about telling the truth to mommy

"THAT SNUCK IS GONNA GET ME" me-no it's not, bridgey, again snucks are actually very nice animals, sweet, adorable in fact, they wouldn't hurt a fly...

Finally, eventually, for Tim's sanity (since he mostly stayed home with her that day) she went back to playing with toys and not talking about the "snuck" anymore. Whew, case FINALLY closed? Weeeeeellllllllll, except for that other little problem of a 3 year old's memory....

Me: "Night night babygirl, I love you, see you in the morning..."
Bridget: "Night night, Mommy. Mommy, I can't close my eyes tonight.
(she always says this, btw)
Me: "Yes, you can, just lay here and watch your fishies and think happy thoughts...."
Bridget: No, mommy, I really can't tonight...the snuck is going to get me..."

Update: still sucky, but there is light

I haven't managed to completely turn off the Josh Groban quite yet, but I have noticed there aren't the darkest clouds floating over my head anymore. Although, isn't it weird when you are going through a grieving process how you kind of feel bad when you don't feel as bad? It's like, wait I should still feel really bad, but it's nice to not feel so bad. Emotions = all mixed up. I'm almost worried that by next week I won't feel nearly as bad and then does that mean I'm forgetting or not caring as much anymore? I know it doesn't obviously, but it's even a little scary to me that someday I'll be "okay" with all of this even though it is soooo not okay.

Allright, that's my update for now, I just noticed New Kids on the Block are on t.v. and grandma would want me to watch this. Although, she would also remind me that having all those pictures taped up all over my walls was not cool with her back in the day.

Happy Friday/Weekend everybody.

Suckerpunched (alternate title - this post is a major downer you've been warned)

One week ago.

It was one week ago I lost a woman I've admired and looked up to my entire life. It was one week ago I realized things I've known and looked forward to my entire life will never be again. It was one week ago that a piece of childhood I've carried with me into adulthood died. One week ago I lost grandma. One miserable, no good, very bad week.

I feel cheated, I feel sad, I can still break into tears at any unexpected moment during the day. One week and she is gone. She's supposed to be coming up here, she's supposed to be making Grandpa soup in Georgia, she's supposed to be complaining about squirrels eating the bird seed, she's supposed to be watching Sean and Jackson play baseball this spring. She's supposed to be lots of thing, what she's not supposed to be is gone.

The funny thing is I have it easy. I'm back home with my kids, my husband and my "normal" life, even though nothing quite feels normal yet. I think of my Georgia family and the fact that they are in her house everyday where it smells like her and where her slippers and cane sit by the bed waiting for her to come home. I think of Grandpa and how his wife of 63 years is suddenly not sleeping next to him in bed anymore. I think of my mom and aunt and uncles who lost their mommy and I honestly can't imagine how hard that is if it's this hard on me. I think of my cousins in Georgia who are much younger and who are used to seeing her everyday. Maybe all of this is actually making it harder on me since I feel so useless 500 miles away. I can't do anything to help ease the pain there and I'm just supposed to be back home and ok - like a week ago before everything suddenly changed.

My heart is so split right now. I long to be back in Georgia grieving and healing with my extended family, but at the same time selfishly want to be here with my kids who ease the pain just by being them.

When people ask how I'm doing, I say that it's hard but that I was lucky to have her for so long - but the truth is, I'd like to tell them I feel like shit, that my heart is broken and wasn't ready to stop making memories with her. Of course, then I feel selfish because I realize she was 86 and that she did live a very full life, and believe me I'm grateful for that, but that just doesn't seem to matter to my heart right now. It hurts like crazy and wishes she had 96 or 106 years like I would have bet my life savings she would have.

I keep trying to find comfort in something the Minister said. He said that the grief that we're all feeling, the heartache - that's the price we pay for loving someone. It's so true and surprisingly comforting for me. When I cry, when I don't feel like doing anything but curling up on the couch with the blanket she knitted me, I think of those words. I feel this way because I loved her so much. I'm paying a relatively small price right now in exchange for 34 years of loving my Gram.

I think this week is just getting to me more than I anticipated, everything moved so fast last week there wasn't much time to catch your breath. So, now that I'm back home it's just been a little bit of a rough adjustment. I'll be okay, though, I'm just paying the price for love and it's a price I'd pay a million times over for the time I spent with my Grandma. Just don't be suprised if you ask how I'm doing and I tell you the truth....

Hopefully I will return to unregularly scheduled happy blogging sometime in the near future. For now, please excuse this downer post, but this is a good outlet for an emotional Jones like me, too bad I didn't get more of those Schubert genes... Grandma would probably be mad at me for being this much of a downer. She'd tell me turn off the Josh Groban and pull myself together. So, I'm going to try that, I'll let you know how it's going next week.

Does this count?

Soon, peeps, soon. I promise. I have much to say (when don't I) but t-shirts and life are taking up too much of my time right now.

Ps - Loaded TONS of holiday pics on my picasa account for those who are closely related and don't mind looking through hundreds of photos of my kids/neice/family.

50% trance, 50% dance party

My little Taylor Swiftaholic. AKA "the t-shirt song" is all we listen to ALL THE TIME, all day every day. I don't even know how it started, but it's here and surely a sign of things and obsessions to come...the video is kinda long and the sound is bad, but too funny nonetheless, that I had to post it for future posterity.

Halloween Eve - Fun for Everyone

The resemblance is uncanny, don't you think?

And we're off...the longest most random post of all time.

It only took almost 18 months, but he has turned the corner, literally...Shane is officially a walker!!! Just one of the many bonuses of this new found walking is that it basically happened over a weekend. He went from one step here and there to full blown no turning-back-now walking. I think I even saw him run a little yesterday when Bridget made a move toward blue doggie (which he has now decided to call "puppy" for some reason unknown to me since I've never called it anything but blue doggie, but whatever...)

So, as we've known since birth, when he wasn't even interested in breathing on his own, he's a little guy with his own agenda. Stubborn from the get go. My theory is that since Tim and I were the ones who decided it was time for him to be born instead of when he was "ready", he decided to stick it to us ever since by doing everything at his own pace, when he's good and ready. All I can say is thank goodness he wasn't my first or I would have spent every spare moment googling "12 month old not walking", "12 1/2 month old not walking", "13 month old not walking", "13 1/2 month....okay, overstating it a bit.... As it was I only had to google two things, "11 month old not really crawling" and "late walkers". See? See how much I improved internet friends? And if you believe that I have a time share in Arizona... no really, I do!

So, just to appease all you Shaneyheads out there (that's what his groupies call themselves) here's a video of my little drunken sailor from last night to show you his progress. Pardon the craziness that is my house and the bitchiness that is me, but, for the record, he never did call the dogs...

One more fun video for the week so you can also get your Bridgey fix - revolves around Halloween. Big day tomorrow for the kiddos as they have their Halloween party and Bridget gets to go trick or treating with "Grandfriends". Grandfriends is a fun program with the Senior Living Center right by her school - they go and visit them every Friday and play games, tell stories, etc. This Friday is the big day! Her first time getting to go on Halloween and we're told by the teachers that they "really clean up there". She is so "exciting".

Here we are last night preparing our treat bags for the big Par-Tay. For inquiring minds, that is strawberry milk all over her shirt...

Lastly, because OMG, this is too funny/embarrassing/horrible/___ fill in your own adjective/parenting... (make sure you click to enlarge)

HAPPY ALMOST HALLOWEEN!!

Cuteness Score = 10

With a little help from my friend, Photoshop, I love this picture of all the kiddos at the pumpkin patch. The only one missing is Miss Rachel since I somehow don't have a picture of her standing by the fence. If anyone has one, let me know and through the magic of computers, we'll have all five of them.

On another note, thanks for all the dress me help this past week. I've actually had three separate people comment on the fact that I look like I've been losing weight. Given that I've done nothing but gain weight the past few months, I can only attribute their comments to my dressing style. So, I owe you all. Muchas Gracias. Here's one of my new looks:

Except, add leggings, flats and about 40 pounds.

Dress me, PLEEEEEEEASSEEEEE

I need help, internets. I have a fashion problem (as you may remember). Keep in mind, I don't work in a "real" office so I don't need nice (read: uncomfortable) business clothes, but I am TIRED of my existing fashion style (read: nonexistent style). One can only own so many pairs of yoga pants, t-shirts and hoodies.

I'm turning to you all, my little Stacy and Clinton's, tell me what look should I go for this fall? I do have to go on appointments during the week and I still consult at a very casual office a couple days a week, so I need something.. .but what?

Take today for example, a longsleeve Dave Matthews Band tee (circa 2000) coupled with a Banana Barts t-shirt, blue comfy pants from about 1998, and white ankle socks. I am the picture of style.

I just want to feel better about my clothes and myself and I'm placing that burden on you all now. I know I have stylish friends reading this RIGHT now. Please help, I'm begging... Ideas? Links? Photos? Therapists? I'll take them all!

Is this good or awful? Too old? Too stupid? See, I have no idea...

Or something like this: Too young? Too stupid? Too purpley?

Whatever you suggest, trust me, it has to be better than this:

Screw 'em! I like posting videos.

This one is in honor of the Blues first 2009 NHL season game tonight. Big sports day, St. Louisians, HUGE sports day in fact, Cards, Blues, Tigers...oh my!

Seriously, though, you will not regret this 1 minute of your life if you watch this, too funny and too cute.



Don't know what this is? This might help:

I don't care, I'm going to try to fight City Hall

I'm motivated peeps. I haven't been this motivated since taco bell took away the fresco menu at my location. This morning on my usual morning routine I headed to QT to pick up a coffee and get my roomie a diet coke (closer than Starbucks on work at home days and they have a new Pumpkin Spice flavoring that's pretty tasty). Fine, right? It was a good QT trip, even talked to a nice police officer as we joked about the fountain soda machine and wished each other good days. Then we held hands and skipped out the door together in perfect civilian/servant harmony. Okay, that didn't happen but ironically I left feeling pretty good about the nice exchange. So good in fact, I decided to pop across the street to Sonic for a little morning pick me up. This is where things go down hill rapidly.

After receiving my delicious breakfast burrito (of course, what else?) I proceed home with all my morning treasures. Now, this won't mean much to you until I get the pictures and OH YES THERE WILL BE PICTURES, but the Sonic is on the corner of Sulphur Springs and Big Bend. So, to leave you can turn left on to either Sulphur Springs (an easy two lanes of traffic that is not very busy) or Big Bend (a busy four lanes with a turn lane right past an intersection). I proceed to leave the Sulphur Springs way, look both ways there is no traffic, make a left onto SS and proceed onto Big Bend at which point I notice a police officer behind me. Hmm I think, he kinda just ran that light behind me.... didn't take long to find out why as a few 100 yards down Big Bend and his lights pop on and this is where I'm pretty sure I threw up a little. I don't get pulled over, I've only been pulled over twice my entire life and one time was not my fault (I'm talking to you Delanty siblings) and I don't do well with authority as we all know.

I had a feeling it was either my headlight (but how did he see) or a rear corner light (I've got lots of light problems right now). *Please, please let it be a light.* Sadly, it was not a light. Apparently, you are not supposed to turn left across two lanes of slow traffic, but rather risk your life across 4 lanes (and a turn lane) on a very busy section of Big Bend to go left. I thought, ok, surely he will just slap me on the wrist, tell me not to do it again and send me on my way, I mean that must be the reason for my nice exchange with another SLC police officer moments before at QT, right? Wrong. Police Officer Kharma = FAIL.

Only moments after he AGREED with me that it was more dangerous to turn left across all of the Big Bend lanes rather than where I turned, said he didn't understand the no left either, and all but admitted to doing it himself, he handed me a good old moving violation and told me to drive safely. DRIVE SAFELYYYYYYYY???!!!! Really, cause that's what I WAS DOING when you gave me a ticket for it and told me to instead risk my life and others crossing 4 lanes of busy Big Bend traffic. Yes, I did "fail to obey a no left turn sign" BUT I might have saved lives. Okay, I am being just a teeny bit dramatic, but tell me peeps - do I have any case here? (Also, the sign is kinda bent over to the left a bit, but in fair disclosure, is there).

I called the County Clerk immediately when I got home to begin the next phase of the ticket, I like to think of this as the "whining" phase. It goes something like this (be sure to drag each phrase out in your head in dramatic whining fashion as you read):

-But, it's nooooooooooot riggggggggght
-It's soooooooo much more dangerousssssssssssssss
-It doesn't make annnnnnnnnnnnny sense
-There was NOOOOOOOOO ONE arounddddddddd
- WHY WHY WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
-It'ssssssssssssss not fairrrrrrrrrrrrr

So, to review:

• There is no such thing as Police Officer Kharma
• It is better to put yourself in a more dangerous situation then to disobey traffic signs
• Don't eat at Sonic
  

Any questions?

Also, any advice would be greatly appreciated. Is it even worth it to try and fight this or is it as black and white as sign/left turn? I think I know the answer, but damned if I'm not motivated to try.

Happy Freaking Friday to me.

ps - On a positive note, this did spur me out of my blogging funk, or then again, maybe your thinking that's not even positive either...

Cop Out Video Post for your Wednesday Enjoyment

Sorry, but this is pretty funny. Especially you Twilight fans out there.

"Don't look at me - I'm bothered!!"

It's her birthday today, tomorrow & the next day, at least if you ask her.

Such a momma's girl when it comes to birthdays, isn't she?

Happy third, babygirl!