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! :)

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..."

Part II - The part where I get two days behind cause I can't stay on task

Belize - Our friends are back in action


The "private" beach on Belize - tpd's back is not in good shape this day, especially after the crazy, local speed racer bumpy boat ride to get to this private Belizian island.

We made fun of him a LOT at this point... mmmm... Belikin.

Pretty Scenery - you can see some boats in the background.

Pretty water, I couldn't stop taking pictures of it.

tpd assures he is in the BACK of the boat for the ride back to the mainland. it was actually really cool being in the back and we even saw a big manatee.
the water color here is simply unbeliezable.

Kicking back after a day on the private island with some Belize brews and food.

Friends rebounded, a couple of knock off Coach purses and good local brews.
An all-around good day, you gotta Belize me!

The first installment sponsored by Mr. Honduras *UPDATED*

TFASNA is kicking off a 6-part series this week entitled, this time last week. In this week long series we'll take a look at what yours truly was doing, well...uh.. this time last week. This first installment is being published a little bit past press time due to airline issues and bedtimes, but without further ado, I present this time last week (last Monday)

Our First Day in Paradise - Roatán, Honduras:

Conversations in Paradise go something like this:
"there's a sailboat."
"yup."

Recipe for true Paradise:

• One part beautiful beach setting with loads of palm trees and ocean breezes
• Two parts local island beer (you gotta go local, it should be international law)
• Three parts - and the secret ingredient to paradise- bacon cheese fries (in HONDURAS can you believe it?)!!!!
• Mix the above ingredients together or enjoy them separately, it doesn't matter you're in Paradise now, mon.
  

Photos of Paradise courtesy of idiot photographers.

This photo illustrates a major problem with asking another tourist to take your photo on a gorgeous roadside stop overlooking lush landscape and panoramic views. BECAUSE I REALLY JUST WANT TO SEE US AND SOME POWER LINES LADY. (PS - I will also blame my traveling companions for this bad photo since they could not accompany us off the boat this day due to some health/boat virus issues.)

Down from the hills overlooking the gorgeous views, aforementioned tourist offers to take our photo again. I gently give her a few instructions this time and, well, you can see this one turned out a little better. ps - giant boat in background is where we are headed back to in the photo and where our traveling friends are camped out while Aimee is fighting a nasty 24 hour bug. In fact, I'm sure Deadlines & Naptimes this time last week memory wouldn't be quite as enjoyable as ours, but she rebounded like the trooper she is and we missed them much this day!

Aaaahhh, beachy beach.

And finally, I bring you "Mr. Honduras"that's what someone called him and it stuck, but he is not in any way shape or form representative of the awesome, gracious locals that actually live in Honduras. See that mom and her two girls? She would not let them turn around at all - can you tell by the look on their faces? Anyway, good ole' Mr. H...yes, he was popular with the locals and tourists alike. ps - you gotta enlarge this photo for full effect

Stay tuned for Part II coming soon....

Applejacks don't even have a Prize Inside!

While we're getting ready this morning in the bedroom Bridgey is singing a song that went something like this, "over to the ballgame, over to the crowd, buy me applejacks, ever back back back BAAAACCCKKK"

I listen a little closer and sure enough it was her own rendition of "Take me out to the ballgame", I have no idea where she learned this or why she is singing this song in February, but obviously the right thing for me to do was to join in... "Take me out to the ball game, take me out to the crow---"

Bridget: "MOOOOOMMMMMMMYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!" she abruptly interrupts my singing. "You, know that song, too?"

Me: "Well, yes, actually I do know that song. And, to be clear it's cracker jacks, not applejacks, there is a very real and important difference between those two jacks".

Bridget: ..pauses, thinks about it and then...."Oh, that is soooo cool - over to the game, over to the crowd, buy applejacks and come BACK BACK BACCCCCCKKKKKK"

From Polaroid to iPhone, I guess some things never change

When I was around 3, I was fascinated by my parent's Polaroid camera. On at least one occasion there is a long standing family story about me going up to the camera, pushing the button and taking a picture of myself. When dad confronted me about taking pictures of myself asking, "Erin, did you push the button on the camera?" Without thinking it all the way through, what with only being 3 and all, I confidently answered no. That would have been great save for the whole POLAROID picture part of it... you know the tangible photographic evidence that was simultaneously spitting out of the camera. It would only be 30-45 seconds before my squished up little face would start to appear on that flimsy polaroid film and I would be completely busted.

Flash some 30 years later to last Friday. I got a little bored waiting for tpd to return home from a seemingly never-ending happy hour with some co-blowoffworkonfridayers. So when the St. Louis February weather was warm enough to sit on my deck and enjoy a cold brew, what else could I do but to take pictures of myself with my way cool iPhone (ps - that's a rhetorical question)...

In the beginning, things were going great and I was getting some killer Facebook profile shots, don't you agree? The lighting, the freshly washed hair, the 18 ounce Schlafly glass... it was a Social Network profile photo dream come true...

But, just when I think taking pictures of myself can't get any better, an all-too-familiar cigarette smoke smell and barking little rat dog sound snapped me out of my iPhone photo shoot...

Internal dialogue running through my head will be brought to you courtesy of Italics... Maybe she didn't see you holding the phone way out in front of you and tilting your head in that no-double-chin sort of way... Surely the shutter snap sound you recently adjusted to the highest volume can't carry that far. Don't turn around. Don't. Turn. Around. And then.... I turned around.

I saw the puffs of smoke before I saw her. Dammit - she's outside smoking...dammit she totally saw the whole thing. Drop your phone, hide it, put it down now, you moron. She probably didn't see it or even if she did she didn't know what it was, right, RIGHT?!

"Hi!" I call out in such a self-assured, confident sort of way, that surely she won't know I was taking pics of myself (that same stunt I had tried to pull on my dad - at least this time the evidence was safely hidden IN my phone).

"New phone?" She answers back. Dammit, dammit - she totally knows what was going down just now who are you kidding... just come clean, idiot, make a joke, chill the eff out, everyone takes pics of themselves, right, RIGHT?!

"Um, oh yeah, I just got the new iPhone (so not true) and I was just sorta playing with it... you know, taking a few pics of the dog and what not..." I say back to her. Dammit, dammit - who says what not? Why did you just say that to her? Is 'what not' the new word for "myself'" cause SHE KNOWS that's what you were doing. Now she thinks you're a complete idiot, pack it up, go inside and for the love of god, STOP TRYING TO OVERCOMPENSATE BY TAKING MORE PICTURES OF THE DOG NOW, you're starting to freak him out, too...

Sorry Brogan, I had no right to drag you down with me.

The bottom line, I blame all of this debacle on tpd. Long withstanding issues of photographing myself aside, had he not been late, I could have made him take the pictures of me (yes, I do that, too) and then it wouldn't have looked quite so weird. So, yup fault = husband. Husband FAIL.

ps - I'd ask you all to tell me that you do this too, but you won't will you? No one does this, do they? Go ahead, tell me, I can take it.

Books?! I couldn't even believe he said books...

Last night, while sitting on the couch with my laptop researching deals for a possible upcoming vacation, tpd and I had the following conversation (paraphrasing, I may have been a little more rude - if that's even possible - and used a few more cuss words in real life):

me: tpd, how about this one...(insert long desc. of trip here for XX amount of dollars.) that sounds like a good deal, doesn't it? that even includes airfare...

tpd: well, yeah, but look behind you on the end table there.... i put some books there. i got those books from the travel agent today, why don't you look through those?

me (almost spit out my wine): books? seriously? did you just suggest i look through books to find pictures and cruise packages? (insert creeping giggling here) i mean, i have the entire internet with 3-d zoom on the SPECIFIC stateroom we would get in front of me (giggling turning into big time laughter) and you want me to look through "2008/2009 Cruise Deals" books.

tpd: i hate you.

So, I was harsh, right? Yes, definitely harsh, he puts up with a lot. But, in the light of the morning, this little exchange really got me thinking about technology and how people have substantially different mentalities about life events because of technology. My immediate reaction was, "Books? Seriously people, do we still use books to research vacations?" After thinking though, I guess my mentality was more why would I use a book IF I have a fast-as-a-T1 internet connection, a Firefox tabbed browser where I could simultaneously be checking 4-5 different travel sites AND have the ability to get real reviews from real people who have ACTUALLY been to these locations. But, his point of view (equally as valid, I might add) was that these were from the travel agent and were "up to date" and not a bad place to start a vacation search in a more relaxed, unplugged way. Totally valid and probably a good idea, but so not where my mental state would be when starting a vacation search. For him, though, it would be his first stop. So, basically my point here (if there even is one-this definitely falls under the Erin's Ramblings category) is just how differently people can think about things these days. Where one mentality about a simple thing like planning a vacation can be so differently viewed because of things like the internet and (I hate to even mention the phrase around tpd) Social Networks.

Take the other night, I was having trouble finding a vacation planning site that I could really connect with. The sites I was searcing on - the old school travelocitys, expedias, etc just weren't working for me anymore. So, I turned to one of my newer BIF's (best internet friends), Twitter (cause after all, you're no one if you're not on Twitter, right tpd?) for suggestions on a good site to look for vacay deals. Within an hour, I had about 8 different suggestions from my tweeps of sites I'd never heard of (bookit.com, vacationstogo.com and more!) I'm now possibly having a small internet affair with bookit.com, but that's a whole different story.

Things like this just remind me of how rapidly technology is changing and that I'm at a very unique point to see it happening. My generation is one in which we can still very clearly remember a life before technology, but is now very much a part of today's tech as well. We're neither too old nor too young, it's a very unique age where we can see both ends of the technology spectrum. We can remember AAA books and trip planners, route maps, and even going with our parents to AAA where the lady at the counter would highlight the road construction hazzards and alternate routes. My kids will never know that. They will more than likely only know what we know now - real-time traffic on their GPS or mobile phone/laptop, etc and MORE! And planning a vacation, I can almost promise by the time Bridget and Shane are my age, no one will think of picking up a book first. I'm definitely not saying this is good thing, there is plenty to be said for being unplugged and the calmness of thumbing through pages, but if I already am having trouble thinking that way, imagine how they will think.

Lastly, I'd love to hear what you think - anybody have an opinion on this particular rambling of mine? I'd love to hear it since this is a big source of debate in our household - leave me a comment!

Happy Weekend Bleeps! (I just made that one up right now bleeps - get it? Blog-peeps, oh I crack myself up...)

Tag, you're it

I usually don't do these tagamabobbers, but I thought this one was kinda fun and since so many of you (I'm talking to you, Deadlines and Naptimes) aren't on facebook, I thought I would share this over here, too, plus it's totally a great blog post filler. (Right, strongrhetoric - head over and read hers when you're done with mine!)

Oh boy - I know you can hardly wait!

1. I started my own business at 25 and never looked back. I work most days in my pajamas or "comfy clothes" and I love it and love what I do.
2. I was born and raised in St. Louis and have only lived in one other town and only for 2 years.
3. The other town was Columbia, MO, approximately 140 miles from St. Louis
4. I am very lucky.
5. I worry too much about: my weight and what other people think about me.
6. I don't like having bosses, I like being the boss.
7. I've been known to go to Walgreens for the fun of it.
8. I have two kiddos, 20 mos. apart a girl and a baby boy. Their personalities are already eerily similar to me and my younger brother.
9. I like to cuss. A lot.
10. My husband (tim) and I went to high school and even prom together although we never dated during that time. We also went to college together and only talked/saw each other there a handful of times while there.
11. I have designed over 100 websites, but only am really happy with about 5. Can you say perfectionist?
12. Everyone in my immediately family (mom, dad and brother) graduated from Mizzou, as did my hubby.
13. I was very close to my extended family until something went wrong when my grandpa passed away and now I don't see or talk to them much. This makes me very sad at times and I miss them a lot.
14. I hope my kids never let their relationship get off track by hurt feelings and ultimately lose an invaluable brother/sister relationship. That will never happen with my brother and I.
15. I had a really, really awesome childhood and family and I still do. That is my wish for my kiddos.
16. My nickname in middle school and high school was, Ernie. It was awful.
17. I hate Ann Curry. A. Lot.
18. I love Jimmy Buffett, Margaritas and Mexican Food.
19. I spent most of 7th and 8th grade on crutches and learned kids can be really cruel.
20. Besides my hubby, my brother and sisters (in law - but I don't even think of them that way) are my very best friends.
21. I love sports - to play them, watch them and keep up with them. Fantasy football and ping pong are particularly obsessive and I am ridiculously competitive...to a fault.
22. My next door neighbor once called me a snickelfritz when I was 2 or 3, it still suits me perfectly to this day and also suits my 2 year old daughter perfectly.
23. I honestly can't believe there are people in this world that have never had a burrito... a hem.. strongrhetoric.
24. Secretly, I kind of like ABC soap operas and have since I was about 12.
25. I think I might be addicted to all things internet, social media and web design.

There you go, 25 things about me. It's really fun and kinda cathartic - give it a try and then link back to me!

Cheers to you Delant...

Here's to another great year! It's a hard one with lots of work, but lots and lots of rewards... we are lucky people!

Thanks to friends and family for all your continued support - you make us who we are! Who can guess where we are?

I only wish George Clooney and Mark Wahlberg would have been here...

With tpd out of town the past two nights in Silex Missouri (seriously, Silex? At least my brother goes to cool places like New Orleans...) anyway, that meant I was on my own with two under two at dinner time and bedtime [insert sympathy here - sorry, but I gotta keep playing that up for as long as I still can]. Surprisingly though, I wasn't worried about it at all - I'd already had them both alone numerous times and it was no big deal. Last night though? Last night was NOT no big deal... it was, in fact, a perfect storm of a big deal. A perfectly timed convergence of multiple forces (forces being a sleep-deprived mommy, crabby toddler, over-tired baby, hungry and cooped-up-all-day dogs, doorbell ringing neighbor AND battery-drained rainforest electronic sound soother machine) all crapping out in unison to create a massively impressive display of chaos that surely could have been it's own reality tv show.

Want to know the exact moment that broke me? Shane's "wa wa" fell behind the pack and play. I could not find it. It was simply gone (GONE!) even though I had been in sole possession of it just seconds before the unfortunate finger bobble that led to it's disappearance. So, after searching everywhere in the dark with screaming baby on one arm, I decided to deal with it the best way I could... I cried. No, no - I sobbed. Yes, there I was sobbing on the floor... sobbing, people!... wah wah sobs...for at least a minute or two in unison with the other two [actual] sobbing babies. BUT, finally a happy ending ensued as my finger tips located the wa wa and I emerged from under the pack and play victorious, wa wa in hand. Nevermind the unfortunate face full of dog hair or the faint smell of dog urine burned in my nose hairs (yes, part of the aforementioned perfect storm), nonetheless, I was victorious, the storm receded to a mere drizzle and I would live to see another day... the next day...which brings us to today...

Faced with the same MIA husband scenario tonight, I was going to make sure there would be no perfect storm. Tonight I packed my extreme new mommy weather gear: no umbrella, hat, goulashes (what are those exactly?) for me... for tonight's typhoon I was armed... with food. McDonalds food.

We hit the drive thru on the way home. The ice cream cone was supposed to be for me, (only 2 WW points!) but I was prepared to share. I knew I would hear her protests immediately, "eat? eat? Bridget eat?!" So, I willingly handed it over. Worked like a charm. I won her over immediately...until I made a fatal mistake. I reached into her Happy Meal box and popped a fry in my mouth. She saw it. "French fry? French fry" - "Here you go mommy - all done" (she shouted trying desperately to hand me back the ice cream cone.) "French fry? French fry?"

Now, I have to be honest. At this moment, I was beyond proud. She really was MY daughter. She was handing back an ice cream cone for the much more desired french fry. She was turning down sweets for fried food. [A-HA!] We were related... we were soooo... related. (Most of you have heard me say this before, but I would gladly turn down any kind of sweets in favor of a heaping plate of cheese fries.) All was right in the world, my daughter and I were one... and then this happened...

at least Pinka got to taste french fries...
and at the very least, the sky stayed sunny and bright tonight...
not a storm cloud in sight.

Because flamingo balloons are obvious indicators of quality

eej: Look at that cool garage sale - We HAVE to go there Saturday!

tpd: Mmmm..hmmm

eej: Oh! it's right down the street

tpd: mmm...hmmm.

eej: We'll be the first one's there - like 6 am.

tpd: okay, I give, why do you want to go to this so bad?

eej: tpd, OBVIOUSLY anybody that uses a flamingo balloon to promote their garage sale has got to have awesome stuff.

tpd: and that's exactly why I shouldn't have asked.


*****

Sidenote: While I'm busy blogging making fun of my mental age and finding flamingo balloon images, I'm simultaneously hosting a webinar about conversion rates, analytics and using multi-variant testing to increase macro conversion for web 2.0 consumer behavior... if they only knew....

I'm very important. I have many leather-bound books and my apartment smells of rich mahogany.

These case studies were conducted on one of my biggest clients, Sydney's Closet, by one of our vendors, Sitebrand. So, I know it's not totally impartial journalism here, but I still think they did a good job (as did Phyllis and I) about tooting our horn, right Mary Jane? :)

I'm a social networking and internet marketing junkie these days (read: BIG TIME DORK) so this was fun to talk about and get involved in. Plus, simply by posting this here, I'm helping our SEO inbound link score, so more power to me.

Interview from Internet Retailer / Blog entry

PDF case study about us

PS - I don't really have an apartment or leather-bound books for that matter, however,
I am kind of a big deal.

In a Nutshell

I'm a lazy, hard working entrepreneur mommy. How's that for an oxy-moronish description? Since I run my own business(es), I work extremely hard at times and can be known to take it too easy at other times. A luxury of being self-employed, although my hubby might not agree.

My husband and I had TWO kids in TWO years, a girl and a boy. Yes, we are crazy, but we're having fun and taking it one day at a time.

I'm an internet consultant for over 20 clients on a regular basis and somewhere in there find time to maintain a big brother/sister t-shirt business and other affiliate websites and blogs... whew.

I LOVE all things internet and design related and have been addicted to this stuff since my first IM 16 years ago on AOL - LOL. I am still trapped in that 17 year old internet mind set at times, but it keeps me up to date in my profession and, like, totally, lets me have fun, too! I hope I never get too old for this stuff.

Imagine what I'll put up with 12 years from now...

It all started Thursday of vacation week. We were getting ready to go somewhere and I was hurriedly trying to get babygirl to finish eating. She was being kind of fussy about it and kept putting her hand up as if to say, "hold it woman, I'll let you know when I am ready to continue...". Well, after a few rounds of this, I looked at her and said "look, missy, there is only room for one snickelfritz in this family, and I took that position 30 years ago."

A little background information on being a "snickelfritz" is that my next door neighbor Mr. Will, a second grandpa to me, bestowed that name on me as a young child. I'm pretty sure you can surmise the meaning behind that term on your own, but I always chose it to mean the smartest, most intelligent and beautiful kid in the neighborhood, but that's neither here nor there and I'm betting my parents probably have different definitive words of me as a child...

Anyway, after I said that to her, I furrowed my brow and gave her a little look to let her know that I am the Queen Snickelfritz and I don't plan on relinquishing my crown anytime soon. Well, after looking at me for a second and seemingly understanding exactly what I said to her, she did something similar (I don't have photos of the actual exchange) to this right back:

Hmm... you think you're the only one in this family that can be a snickelfritz?

I don't think so lady, you've got another thing coming.

I most certainly have the ability to be the world's
biggest and BEST snickelfritz ever.

Yeah, I'm talking to YOU, Queen Snickelfritz...

What, little old me? What did I do?
Aren't I just the sweetest cutest thing you've ever seen?

Ahhh, Mr. Will, you would be proud...
(and, okay, okay, so am I... just don't let her know!)

I wouldn't want to spend even one day in your head...

This morning Tim takes his car to Combs to get a "quick" tire rotation and check on the brakes before he and the boys head out to Memphis for Ehlert's big bachelor party. Fast forward 1/2 hour to a frantic phone call to me about car needing new brakes, has to leave it for 3 hours, meeting at UMSL at 9:45, need to print out instructions, the password is Tremco9435....yadda, yadda, yadda...

So, to give you a nice run down of how I spent my day from approximately 8:17 am (the time of the first phone call) to 12:23pm (the time I FINALLY arrive at Sydney's Closet for my work day) I've prepared a lovely numbered list for your reading enjoyment:

1. Drive to combs and pick up Tim - 8:45am
   
   
2. Drive up to UMSL and drop Tim off for some big roofing meeting (only after reliving all my *crazy* good old days at UMSL ALL the way up there) - 9:30 am
   
   
3. Drive back to Brentwood to meet client for 10:30 meeting at Bread Company
   
   
4. Stop off at Brentwood Target for no other reason then I had 15 minutes to kill and who doesn't love to go to Target when they have 15 extra minutes
   
   
5. $47 Target dollars and one Venti Mocha non-fat no-whip later, I wrap up my meeting and go back up to UMSL (surprisingly the timing could not have been more perfect as Tim was just leaving his meeting)
   
   
6. Drive Tim back to Combs tire. This is where apparently (somewhere between the Venti Mocha and after only approximately 5.5 hours of sleep last night, but that's a whole different Bridget entry) I apparently became a monster chatterbox about my surroundings and events as they were occuring in real time:
   

"Do you think we can live in a house like that some day?"

"I know she's going to bug the crap out of me today with all this ABS b.s."

"Wow that dog just went after that little kid - did you see that?"

"Oh man, I hope there's not a train - is that I train - do you see a train? "

"This satellite sh*t is cool - don't you love it?"

These are just a few of the ones I remember and they were in that order - rapid fire. So, my whole point about this last bullet point is this...no really, I think I have one... -I decided today (when someone was actually in the car with me during my usual "alone" time) that I have a complete constant thought stream - it seriously never stops. Actually as I am typing these lines I'm thinking at least 4 sentences ahead and listening to 30 Rock in the background. Anyway, I guess Tim picked up on it especially today since he was privy to my own little J.D. world, because when he finally could get a word in he said:

"I wouldn't want to spend even one day in your head...it's tough enough even being out here".



PALTSKKJ

It's the big ONE!

I LOVE April 11th - I always have. I get a little fluttery inside when coincidentally someone on tv announces something taking place on "April 11th" or when Easter falls on "April 11th" and people say it over and over again. It's no secret people - I LOVE April 11th. I really do think of it next to Christmas as the best day of the year.

Now, I have gotten plenty of flack in my life for this love. "Birthday Season" jokes have arisen and much ado has been made over this little day, but I really don't care, in fact I think I like that a little. I think of it as just a testament to another aspect of my quirky, yet childlike at times personality and whether I'm turning 11 or 32, why shouldn't I still love this day? It's really not the self-serving "give me all the presents you can" reason that I like so much about this day, although I would venture to say that many people think that is it. It's really just more that there's just a nice little something special to a birthday. Like a little secret you can carry around in your pocket that no other stranger knows about you on that day. You are special that day and, for that reason, I've always walked around with a little spring in my step.


So, now that I am 32 and have been through quite a few of these April 11ths, I started thinking about why I love this day so much and I realized it's not about the presents or the cake (to be honest, I've never been the hugest cake fan - I know, crazy...) but what it is about is basically one great thing - my family and specifically, my parents. They are why I love this day so much. They are the birthday king and queen. They made each birthday, no matter how rushed of a time of year or how many times it fell on Easter, always a special day for me. It was all about me - although occasionally my mom would remind me that they really should give the presents to the mom's on birthdays since they did all the work and, I'd have to say, this is the first year that I would probably agree with her on that one.... But, really, I would like to say thanks mom and dad - thanks for making all those birthdays so special and for teaching me that life is too short to not have a piece of cake on your birthday and be grateful for another year in life with good friends and family.

Well, finally to this April 11th (the whole reason I started this post way back when) THIS April 11th is especially special. (Can you use especially and special back to back?) Well, it is, let's just say SUPER SPECIAL this year! I am so happy to be able to now share what was my secret & special day with a very deserving little man. Yes, one year ago today, Mr. Matthew Wellington Muldrow made his way into the world on the (second) best day of the year - April 11th. I remember going to see him in the hospital and holding those tiny 6 lbs of pure adorableness and thinking how cool that birthday for me was -here I was seeing one of my best friends go through a real "birth" day and, for the first time, I got a real appreciation for why we celebrate birthdays the way we do. It truly is a miracle to have Matthew in our lives now and what better way to remember that every year then to celebrate the day he entered the world. I remember feeling so excited that he and I would forever be connected by this awesome day - April 11th.

So, without further ado - to my main little man -

Happy FIRST birthday!!!!!

Here's to many many more awesome April 11th's to come for you. Because, just like my parents made this day something great for me, I have no doubt that you will be 32 years old someday and looking back on how special your mommy and daddy made every April 11th for you! Love you, little man - Happy First!


-PS- Aimee wrote a great blog entry (something I will undoubtedly steal come August 26th) about Matthew's arrival into the world one year ago today! Check it out here.

PALTSKKJ

Awwww dad....stop it you're embarrasing me...

Super cute pics of dad and daughter on Valentine's day - night. Both babygirl and I got flowers and cards from tpd and we had fun opening up and playing with all the swag. For some cute pics of how babygirl spent her day with her main squeeze, Matthew, you can check out Aimee's blog. Although they didn't seem to care about each other at times, you could definitely feel the love at other times. I think Aimee said it best when she said, "it's a stormy relationship"!




PALTSKKJ

How did this happen?

I've definitely become one of those moms.

One of those moms unable to use any objectivity when it comes to the "cuteness" factor of their own offspring. Sure, I think that little Brangelina baby is adorable, but still, sorry, Shiloh, you pail in comparison to MY baby girl. I mean I look at Babygirl and the level of cuteness she exudes makes me want to put her on a couple slices of bread, slather her with some mayonaise and eat her right up. (Okay, so that's a little extreme, but you get the idea - I basically cannot handle the cuteness.)

How? When? I always told myself this wouldn't happen to me and yet, here I sit, admitting fully that it has, in fact, happened. I am a picture pushing, email sending, blog posting one of those moms. Not to mention the way I soak up all the compliments as if they were gospel:

"She's so cute"
"She's adorable"
"Oh my gosh, she is beautiful"

I've said these exact comments to other mom's of new babies time and time again. Sometimes fully believing them and other times, I have to be honest here, not completely 100% behind those statements. I know this will sound terrible, but before I had a baby I was always looking at the actual physical attributes of the baby, right or wrong, I didn't know any better.. I wasn't around babies a lot and I've never been a huge "baby person" so I couldn't understand how every baby was "so beautiful" or "so adorable".

But, now that I am around one day in day out and I get to see the toothless smiles, the oohs and aahs, the most adorable soft sigh I've ever heard in my whole life, and the hundreds of other adorable baby noises and faces, all objectivity has gone out the window.

I don't think you have to be a mom to "get it". I just never did, it took becoming a mom and being around a baby more for me to fully understand. So, now I see how anyone who's had a baby, been around them a lot or just really loves babies in general, can truly 100% say and believe that every baby they meet is the most adorable and beautiful baby.... because, in fact, they are in their own individual way.

And, since I am now in that club, here's your daily Babygirl fix, whether you want it or not.

Seriously, does it get much cuter?

PALTSKKJ

Long Term Effects...

It's been a little while since the last post! I've just been so busy with work and our new site, which I am still not quite ready to post links to, that I've fallen down on my posting duties. I feel like I am glued to a computer screen almost all waking hours except driving and showering. I am looking at the computer screen from sometimes as early as 5am to as late as midnight some nights. I am reading while feeding babygirl, working all day long, surfing and researching while l watch Earl in the background, designing for the new business in bed with the news on in the background.

I've become attached to the computers. It's almost to the point where if I've been out or away from a computer for more than an hour or so, I get ancy to get around one. I don't know what I would have done without any power here.

Okay, enough about computers, but I do worry sometimes about the long term effects of sitting in front of this screen type, type, typing or reading constantly. We are really the first generation to grow up with computer screens in front of us and I am on the extreme end of the spectrum in relation to how much time I spend in front of them...

We got our Christmas tree last night (leave it to us to pick the coldest day of the year to bundle up babygirl and subject her to frigid temperatures). Regardless, it was a quick process and it's a frasier fir and very fresh, so that's exciting. I'm not sure when we will actually get to decorate it as we have a pretty busy weekend with holiday events and drinks with friends, but, hopefully we can do it either tomorrow or Sunday at the latest. I have sporadically worked on Christmas decorations, so I'm excited about getting those finally finished!

Lastly, babygirl is talking up a storm these days and is very vocal when she is hungry or unhappy. You'll hear about it- no question. She's also started this kind of screaming/screeching stuff that is incredibly disturbing, but again, is just her way of letting you know she needs some attention and, unfortunately, I can't help but laugh at it. I can already fast forward in my mind a couple of months when she has perfected that skill and will scream at random in public places and at quiet places. I'm sure we will be one of "those" people in church who can't control their screaming children. You can just tell that's the path she's going down. I still love it, though. It's so funny to see her discovering her voice and changing every single day. I'm excited for her first Christmas, even though she won't really understand yet, it's still a fun time for Tim and I to have her here.

Well, that's all for my quick post today - I apologize for the randomness or my ramblings. TGIF!!

"What's that sound? You hear it? It's a funny squeaky sound."

Well, it is Friday and I've gotten little to no work done today. Babygirl was good, just a little high maintenance today so I spent a fair amount of time playing and hanging out with her. That was one thing, but the funniest thing was when my husband decided to try and rid our attic of a friendly little visitor I lovingly refer to as Mr. Squirel ("squirrely, squirrely, squirrely...i love you little squirrely" - for you tpd). Unfortunately after climbing into the attic and searching around for the little beady eyed creature, careful not to put a foot in the drywall and through the ceiling, we were unsuccessful in locating his home.

You may be wondering how we know we have a squirrel(s) in the attic. It actually took a lot of deducing. At the beginning of the week, I continually heard weird noises coming from down the hall. In a matter of minutes, I went from thinking our house was being robbed to then deciding, after failing to find said intruder, that those noises had to be from a ghost in the attic. I finally investigated outside by the gaping hole where the chimney once stood (don't even have time for that story) and sure enough as if smiling at me and singing "nah, nah, nee, boo boo" was a little squirrel perched right on the opening to the attic (again where there is a huge HOLE in the side of the house). This was Tuesday and since then we have heard him scurrying and scratching feverishly at something. We can only guess what he is doing up there, but I do have fun making up those scenarios...but again, I digress...

It was all fun and squirrel games until last night when tpd said, "turn the monitor way up in babygirl's room, I want to make sure we can hear if the squirrel gets in there" that I freaked out a little. Having a visitor running a late night squirrel's only bar and grill (one of the aforementioned scenarious) in the attic is one thing, having it scratch a hole in the ceiling to my 11 week old's room is another story.

So today was the day to evict our unauthorized houseguests (kinda like when we have to kick the Muldrow's out after being here for weeks on end - just kidding Muldrows!). As we ascended into the attic we were both fairly terrified, as we were completely unprepared to do anything with it had we actually come across the critter. It would have undoubtedly been like that scene in Christmas Vacation where the squirrel jumps out of the Christmas tree right onto one of us and the continues to wreak havoc on the house. Our only plan of action was having Brogan hang out at the bottom of the ladder in case the little guy ran for the attic opening. Brilliant plan! Alas, no dog/squirrel fight happened, but I woulda had money on the squirrel anyway.

Clark: Russ, go get the hammer. Ellen: Clark, what do you need a hammer for? Clark:I'm gonna catch it in the coat... And smack it with the hammer. Ellen: You are not going to kill that squirrel in front of all these kids! Clark: Well honey, what do you suggest?

Basically our visitor lived to throw another dance party (yet another scenario - picture little squirrel dj booth's and sipping martini's in the corner of the attic). We'll see what happens, but babygirl may be back sleeping in our room if we hear anymore funny squeaky sounds...as long as Liggy's not here (mememememememememe)!

I'll keep you posted! Happy weekend to all!