who are you people?

the other morning, around 9:30, i was already done for the day.

so i fished the four day old sippy cup of milk out of stella's mouth,
handed the twins popsicles for breakfast
and we all hit the back porch so i could relax
without my floors getting stick-ier.
sticky would insinuate that they weren't sticky already.
if there is one thing my husband can't stand? it's sticky floors.
and there was no way i was going to waste a good mop job at 9:30.

i am seeing way too much good parenting going on around these days.
it is not only depressing but mind boggling as well.

listen.
listen!

who are you people with these summer bucket lists for your adorable children?

what am i missing?
i don't understand.

how do you have time
or more importantly,
energy for such things?

hommeade play dough?
why don't your kids eat it?
or throw it?
or feed it to the baby?
or is that why it's hommeade?
so they can eat it?

sensory boxes?
don't they just get dumped?

paint chip scavanger hunts?
huh?

what am i missing?

any spare time or extra energy i have around here is typically spent wiping.
a body
a surface
sweat off my brow.


and don't these activities taking longer to make than they do to execute?
my children have the attention span of a two year old. because they are two!

and it's not just one or two of you.
i am seeing it a lot.

help me understand.

or
are you guys just smart?
and pinning things that you really have no intention of doing?

honestly?
most of my children's activities have to somehow benefit me.
for example, we clean up to the clean up song and throw in a dance party.
fun and functional.
for all parties.

they frolic about in the pool, i work on my tan.
win-win.

get with the program, people. help yourselves, too.

seriously,
you guys can continue with all of this nonsense.
but,
if your kids
become friends with my kids
you better have them keep their mouths shut.

what my kids don't know won't hurt them.

bahama mamas intro

here's the deal.

i went on the trip of a lifetime.
it was the most wonderful gift a girl could have ever asked for.
i don't want to forget one single second.
a for real - a girls trip is good for your soul, my friends.

it's taken too long for me to blog about it.
but.
putting it on paper marks a sense of finality.
mama doesn't want finality.

i can still smell the salty air. just a little bit. if i close my eyes.
my skin is no longer tight from getting a little too much sun.
my hair is back to a flat ponytail mess instead of a salty beachy mess.
i prefer the salty beachy mess.

the pain in my abs has finally subsided.
we laughed ridiculously for four days straight.
ridiculously, guys.

my thighs have finally stopped twitching from dancing the nights away.
and my sea legs have officially returned to land legs.

waaahhhhhhhh.

i want sea legs.

i went on a girls trip to the bahamas in case
somehow
you didn't know.
if you know me irl (in real life) you know.
i didn't talk about anything else until the minute i left.
and i haven't stopped.

talking about it, that is.
my husband has politely asked me to stop.
and,
my husband has not politely asked me to stop.
i have had to make my own coffee.
on the boat?
we had boys make our coffee.
they were the best boys.
they wanted to be called men.
but, boys sounds sexier to us girls.
and,
since it was our trip?
they remained boys.
but, before i introduce our boys,
i'm going to give you the short version of the who and the how.

lora, my sister, married nick, one of my bff's from high school.
matty, my husband, was in that circle.
 he has been friends with nick since jr. high and he lived with nicky in college.
i have permanantly added y's to their names.

and
his sister, ashlea and i cheered allstars and high school together.
our families are friends.
his parents.
our parents.
step-parents.
aunts
uncles
children.
the list.....it goes on.
it's a tangled web we weave i tell you.

now, it gets deeper. and crazier. so make sure your paying attention.
amy,
who you all know from buggie and jellybean,
is nick and ashlea's cousin.
and she is my friend. and my cousin-in-law. and her sister is elizabeth,
we just say we're cousins, okaaaay? so amy and elizabeth are my cousins. got it?

it actually gets more complicated.
2 sisters married 2 brothers. chris+kathleen and frank+maryellen.
but we couldn't get the bahamian's to understand it so i guess i don't expect you to, either.

moving on.

we were planning on a grils trip to frank+maryellen's beach condo.
i was thrilled.
a few days later,
i got a text from amy saying the condo was out.
i cried.
and being the naughty trickster she is, she waited an hour until she texted me again.
saying that maryellen wanted to go to the bahamas instead.
the bahamas.

seven girls
hopped on their plane

and then we hopped on their boat.

which took us to their other boat - the fa-la-me.

i.know.
i felt the same way.
trust me.

we spent the next four days on that boat.
93% of it i can't blog about.
but,
the 7% i can blog about?
i will.

now for our boys.
we love them.

this is captainrob. he was our main man.
and he can drive that monster of a boat. and back it up.

this is jon.

and this is taylor.

maryellen and her boys.

they kept the bubbly on ice, the coolers full and our glasses topped off.

they.were.amazing.

unfortunately it was not all fun and games on the boat.

there were team meetings held multiple times throughout the day where we would meet and discuss the days plans or whatever else maryellen deemed appropriate.

lots of team meetings. and attendance was manditory.

once the morning meeting was over we would suit up and head out.

but.....

today was just the intro post.

so

i will be back for the day one post.

until then? i'll be dreaming of the fa-la-me.

marissa stratton - making the minivan chic

if you drive a minivan i have probably felt bad for you.

it's ok, though. you can laugh at me now because drive one too.

i had an suv. with a third row. it wasn't cutting it.
i needed more room.
i still have to strap in three babies.
and i needed something that wouldn't require a full on gymnastics routine to gets these kids all in their place.

and so the minivan convos began.
i kicked my feet, screaming the whole time matt told me it had to be done.
really, what other options did i have?


how can you be chic driving a minivan?
the answer is, you can't.
but with cons come pros my friends.

i told matt maybe i would consider driving one.
if it could be black on black.

so, the search began and before i knew it, my bruised ego and i were the not so proud owner of a minivan.

i now sit here and pretend i am driving not a minivan.

and the other morning those pesky children were interrupting me christian grey reverie.
so i got to thinking.......

i put stella down.
grabbed my kindle and coffee.
oh yeah,
and the left over two kids.
and hopped in my condo on wheels.

i strapped them in.

turned this bad boy on

and then this bad boy on

sipped on this

and got my grey on.
i got to read three pages in peace.
that is three more pages than i would have gotten to read inside.
after a mild interuption from one of those kids repeatedly asking me to look at the fish on tv, i was back to business.

after such a successful twenty minutes of a very mild chaos,and an amazing nap from stella
(because we were out of the house)
my mind got to working in overdrive.

realistically, the possibilites are endless.
i have catnapped.
in the target parking lot.

ok, catnap may be a stretch but i layed down and closed my eyes for a few minutes.

and we have had picnics in the car, too.
chick fil a. in the car!
kitchen stayed clean at home and chick fil a in the car.

i think i have officially come around.
i have named her lola.
one of my favorite features?

a plug.
i think it is inteded to charge games and such but come on,
we all know the real reason there is a plug.
it's to blow dry and flat iron my hair.
in my car.
i can't hear the screaming over the blow dryer. i just burry my head in my kindle and pretend i'm at the salon.

with my kids in restraints.
and these reatraints are legal. in fact, they are encouraged!
this allows me to do a proper blow out and flat iron sesh.
uninterupted.
those people at chrysler are genius!

that greasy ponytail is a thing of the past.

i may drive a minivan but from now on, this mama's going to be looking fly.
i may even have make up on next time you see me.

you see,
with picnics in the car my house will be cleaner,
my hair will be done,
and i will look more rested with these newfound catnaps every now and then.
i just need to remember to throw a pillow in 'er.

so don't feel sorry for me. i just think of lola as my spa on wheels.

who said you can't be chic and drive a minivan?

oh, yeah, that was me.
but
obviously
i have changed my mind.

here comes the sun, and i say, it's alright

ya know,
sometimes you've got to just stop.
and slow down.
and step back.
and look in the mirror.

and i've done that.

i truly appreciate everyone who reached out to me after my last post.
i think it seemed more intense than intended.
or it didn't.
or it wasn't.
i'm still not sure.

writing this blog is so much more to me than you know.
it's cathartic.
it's cleansing.
it makes me see me outside of my head.

i very rarely reread what i've written before i hit publish.
sometimes that's good.
sometimes it's bad.
i tend to just go with it.
it's how i felt at that second.
and if that isn't freezing time, i don't know what is.

after re-reading this one, i realized i spent so much time complaining about me, that i left out my greatest stress.

this boy.

he loves his daddy more than anything in the world.
more than trains.
and more than cupcakes.
maybe not cupcakes.
but it's close.
he misses his daddy more than all of us.
he has the heart of an angel.
and he wears it on his sleeve.

he got that from not me. not me at all.

ok probably from me.
so i get it.

and he has been having meltdowns at a catastrophic level.
so i stopped.
and stood back.
and instead of reacting to him acting out
and whining
and destroying
and not listening
and crying.
so
much
crying.

i thought about it.
and talked to him.
i asked why he was sad.

he said "daddy hold juuu."
one look at this teeny tiny quivering chin and i started crying.

i called matt and matt said "i know. i've noticed that, too. i told him i was taking him on a date."
say what? why does no one tell me anything around hurrr?
and a daddy sate there was.

they went to their first baseball game.
the morning of, colton said "daddy day!"

my heart melted.

the only bad thing about it is that i wasn't there to document every adorable second.
i told matt he better not come home unless he took a few pictures.
and he obliged.

they did boy things like eat hot dogs and french fries. and chew tobacco and spit.

how cute.
daddy let him pick out a baseball.

he slept with it.
for a few days.

it worked.

he just needed some one on one time with his daddy.

i love both of my angel boys.

and the good news is that daddy is not working sundays for the next few weeks.
so that, in addition to some weekly one on one and we should be back to sunshine around here.
and that? makes me so very happy.

hello. is there anybody out there?

listen.
when i'm gone for too long it means one of two things.
things are really good.
or,
things are really bad.

things are really bad.
but that's not your fault now, is it.

here's the 411.
my husband bought his old business partner's new company.
he went from working six days a week, to seven.
it's dark when he leaves
and it's dark when he gets home.
it's going to be that way for a while.
how long is a while?
more than a few months.
that's all i know.

that makes my life harder.
and it makes for bad blogging.

although i'm told my candor can be charming at times,
right now?
it's not.

i'm exhausted.
i'm impatient.
i'm sick of giving myself pep talks every five minutes.
pep talks that prevent me from banging my head against the wall.

i'm feeling unappreciated.
and unappreciative.
i'm emotional.
i'm being selfish.
i know it. and i'm having a hard time checking myself.


situations i am typically able to laugh off? i just can't.
and when i can't find humor in my chaos, you can't either.

i don't know how my husband works the way he does and doesn't complain.
ever.
he never complains.

i do.
a lot.
pity parties, party of one typically help.
along with baths, wine and trashy magazines.

but i'm too tired.
i'm hungry.
i'm dirty.
i'm sticky. all day.
i'm not taking care of myself.
when the kids get in bed?
typically i am too tired to shower.
that's gross.
my hair is a hot greasy mess that remains in a ponytail.
even though i'm fresh out of the salon with good color.
what a waste.

i wore jean shorts that were too small because i have no clean clothes
and i sucked in throughout the whole grocery store until my stomach hurt trying to make it not so obvious.
my children screaming was obvious enough for one trip.

my house looks like it has been robbed.
it hasn't.

i have six hands
destroying
everything my two hands are constantly trying to
restore.
whining
and
crying
all the while.
constantly.
all day long.
every day long.

i'm being pushed to my limits
and i am trying to keep smiling.
but, it's getting hard.

i dragged the kids to barnes and noble today and forgot the stroller. rookie mistake, i know.
i convinced myself that this is what good mothers do.
suck it up. dry your tears. clip your greasy bangs to your greasy ponytail and let's go.
20% was to be a good mother. 80% so i could make my second trip to pick up 50 shades.
they were sold out last time.
i have officially hopped on that crazy bandwagon. but more on that later.

meanwhile, i was wrangling stella, and the twins were destroying the kids section.
a mother twins strolled up.
with a baby in an infant carrier.
we were mirror images of chaos.
until she told me that the infant was a twin.
the other twin was at home.
holy hell.
her twins were two and a half. her other twins were six months.
this shook me out of my funk for 43 seconds.
for 43 seconds i was thankful i only had three, two and under, to mange.
instead of four. how do you do that?
that's it. 43 seconds.
how rude is that?
i didn't care.
im so consumed with me that i had a hard time being sympathetic to her.

sometimes when i just start writing it helps me get back into the groove.
i'm hoping that happens here.
but chances are likely that i will be spending all 3 minutes of free time with my man, christian.

so that's where i am. and that's where i will be.
and i'm sorry if you have missed me. i miss you, too.
hopefully we will be reacquainted again soon.

and finally, jessica simpson named her baby girl maxwell drew. thoughts?