The lying game....cat family vacations

In our house, we don't lie. We talk about telling the truth versus a 'story' (a little kinder that a lie, right?) As a matter of fact, my sweet husband can't tell a story...he's got a serious 'tell' (Don't worry B, your secrets safe with me ;) ), when I was younger and I tried to lie, I would turn bright red and my story would crumble. So, of course as a parent we preach telling the truth, but today it all came crashing down today. I lied to Avery. And it broke my heart. Let me back this up a bit...Avery turned three in October, and we (I) wanted to get her something special- A CAT!! I begged and pleaded with Blake, I even got Blake's parents to rally my cause. And, because he loves us, he said ok. YEA!! A CAT A CAT! I love cats...I mean AVERY WILL LOVE A CAT. I went to the shelter and picked a good one Parker, a cute little tabby cat who had been adopted, but returned to the shelter because her owner lost her job. Cute cat, sad story? I'm sold. Parker initially was a great fit for the family, loved being here, loved the dog, loved curling up in AK's bed, even tolerated Baby Will- but I think it's only because he smelled like milk. But something wasn't quite right with PK (Blake and AK's nickname for her). PK won't use a litter box. Instead my house was her litter box, preferably my bed and drapes. Gross. I'll spare you further detail. So, I tried and tried, we went to the vet, new litter box, MULTIPLE litter boxes, antibiotics, probiotics, etc. One night, after sticking my toes into a wet spot on the bed, I lost my marbles and put her outside and grumbled something about not needing anymore bottoms to wipe. And outside she stayed. Blake claims this is the angriest he's ever seen me. We both started feeling guilty about it. It's cold, it's lonely, and we live on the corner of a busy street- she could get hit by a car. So, we decided to let her back in the house and put her in the garage when we left. But she still managed to make a few more house messes and we (I) decided we (I) couldn't do it anymore. So this morning I took her back to the Animal Village. I thought I would have no emotion, but I still burst into tears when they took her. And while I was crying, waiting to get her kennel back, I ran into a guy I went to elementary through HS with, who I haven't seen since HS. Although, I've know him since I was five, I figure this wasn't the first time he'd seen my sobbing (Most notably, in kindergarten when Russel Brixie pulled my pants down while I was reaching for my lunch box.). I called the 'cat lady' that works with the animal village and told her my whole, long story. Cried to her a little. She assured me she'd find PK a home. That she would get her out and play with her. But, she agreed it was the right thing to do for us. Then to pick up AK. What should I tell her? The truth? A story? Something in the middle? After polling the audience, I thought somewhere in the middle sounded good. I picked her up and we chatted about her day at school, what we were having for lunch, etc. All very lighthearted conversation. And when we pulled in the garage she started asking me where I though PK was. "Where's PK?" My heart started racing, my hands started sweating. What do I do? I can't lie to her! I said "PK isn't here, Avery." "Where is she?" Tears began to well up in her eyes. My heart sank. "She's not here, baby." Avery's quivery little voice, "We have to go get her! Where is she?" Come up with something fast, think, think, think! so I told her that we had only been keeping PK and until her cat family got back from vacation. And they were home now, and PK went home. I picked up my sobbing child and held her close. I hadn't imagined that such a little 'story' would hurt me so badly too. She cried in my arms for a while But, I know the truth was a far harder story to tell. It's hard to lie when I spend so much time trying to make sure the truth is told in our home. And I know she's only three, but it's important she knows I'm telling her the truth about things so she will trust me in the future. For now, my little story will have to do. I'm thankful Blake hasn't made me feel too bad about it, he could really rub it in that it wasn't his idea, he didn't want a cat, etc. And he let me make the decision to take her back. I'm thankful that little girl is so forgiving. I'm thankful she's young enough to not remember PK in a year. I'm thankful for the sweet lady at the animal shelter. I'm hopeful PK finds a good home. Thanks for letting me purge this terrible feeling. I'm hoping when AK wakes up from nap she'll have forgotten the whole bad story. And on the off chance you are looking for a cat. PK is available, 7 months old, spayed, not exactly little box trained, super sweet and friendly, and deserving of a good home where there is a little more patience.

Jumping off of two feet....

I love peanut butter, I love peanuts, I love anything made with peanut butter. In a galaxy far far away, we kept three different jars of peanut butter in our pantry. One for me, one for Blake, and one for the dogs. I could seriously eat peanut butter in some form every day...two years ago. My sweet little sugar plum, Avery, is allergic to peanuts. (As just a funny little aside, I told someone she was allergic to peanut butter, please don't give her any, and she said "Wow, that's weird, it she allergic to peanuts?" Blink. Blink. What? ) When she was a little over a year old, I gave her a lick of peanut butter from a spoon of PB I was enjoying to see if she too would fall in the ranks and also be a PB fanatic. Instead she got a swollen lip that looked somewhat cartoonish. We studied it, wondered if maybe she ran into something, fell down, but in the end gave her a dose of Benadryl to be on the safe side and it went away. She had a well-child visit shortly after this incident and I brought it up to our pediatrician, she suggested we do some blood work and see if she had any allergies. The blood work showed high allergy to peanuts, and she wrote us a prescription for an epipen and counseled me have benadryl on me at all times, she asked if I'd like to speak with a dietitian and I told her I'd talk to myself (Before I 'retired' I was a dietitian ;) ). I cried after I got off the phone with her because for some reason it seemed so scary. I didn't really understand. B and I don't have any food allergies. I nursed her exclusively forever! I waited until she was well over a year old to introduce PB into her diet. Just a week or two prior to this I'd had a conversation with a neighbor mom who told me how annoying it was that they had such strict rules at her kids school regarding peanut butter. How they excluded HER kid when he brought a PB&J, not the kids that were allergic. I had agreed with her, "That IS silly! Why your kid? He's not the one with the allergy!" Some flawed logic here... So, then we begin to learn the long list of things A can't eat. The obvious: peanuts, peanut butter, candy with peanuts/peanut butter. The not so obvious: Chick-Fil-A, Kashi products, lots of "fancy" restaurants fry in peanut oil...the list goes on. It's been almost two years since her diagnosis and I still get nervous. I remind everyone- at least twice before they take her anywhere. Her preschool teacher is my sister who is a hyper-vigilant as me and I still worry..."What if she takes a bite of _____'s PB sandwich while Rachael isn't looking?" She has had two run-in's with the scoundrel, the most recently at Easter which B & I joking refer to as the Peanut Butter Trinity incident (A terrible pun I realize)- she wiped her face on a peanut butter laden towel, may or may not have taken a bite of a PB sandwich, and most definitely smeared her hands through some PB left on the counter. We caught it quickly and were able to get it under control with a man-sized dose of Benadryl. Why was she around all this peanut butter you ask? Because it's hard to tell people who eat it/love it to get rid of it for her... You get puzzled looks when you start rearranging your friends/parents pantry to move the PB up out of her reach. So, this has been my struggle for the last two years. I wonder, Will this be harder when she's older? When she gets invited to a party at Chick-Fil-A, but can't eat there? Will she try something at school someone's mom made not thinking? She can recite to me now the rules when she is away from me: 1. Be sweet 2. Listen to ______. 3. NO peanut butter. And I know, I know it could be worse, but still in it's own right it's scary. And I'm slowly learning to take small leaps of faith, jumping off two feet, and trusting. Trusting my child will remember the rules, and everyone remembers her neurotic mama is at home worrying if I remembered to tell them no Cheeburger Cheeburger. I know you are all wondering? Jumping off two feet? What's that about? Well, at above mentioned well-child visit our pediatrician was going over some milestones: physical, verbal, etc. One of those was "Child will be able to jump off two feet", I got a little hung up on that one. All day long thinking, "Geez, that's really high in the air!" I walked around our house gauging the height of different surfaces to see. When Blake came home for dinner I told him about the milestone, he AGREED with me that was really high, and an odd milestone. So we both scratched our heads and went on. Several days later, Blake finds the handout about the milestones. I see what he has in his hands and I'm waiting for him to finish reading it so we can both shake our heads that AK will surely not be reaching this milestone anytime soon, but instead he burst into that famous Blake cackle. "Jess, jumping off two feet" and he jump in the air- off two feet....Sigh. Fail, Me. Fail. And periodically B or my father-in-law reminds me that two feet is awful high in the air...

If you're looking for some good recipes...look further

If you know me you know I love to cook. I enjoy chopping, dicing, sauteing, dredging...it's soothing to me, it's me showing my love to the fam. Before my house was a preschool, I loved to try 'fancy' recipes. I'd have 'theme' nights- those were my favorite. Mexican, Italian...so much fun. I don't really have that kind of time anymore, so I stick to pretty tried and true recipes, but this gets old after a while. I felt like I was in a rut...and along came Pinterest. Every recipe boasts "best ever" "never fail". I pinned tons of recipes and began to try them all... I haven't taken any pictures with my new birthday camera, but I'd like to share some my mistakes with you.. Fail 1. "Never Fail" Pizza Dough: Take One: Fail, not really sure what went wrong here (except that while the dough was kneading away in the mixer Avery needed help changing into her Tinkerbell costume and Will decided to nurse) , but my dough looked like a million little marbles. My sweet, glass-half-full sister said "Just make a bunch of really little pizzas" Take Two: No fail, super, best ever homemade Pizza Dough Highly recommend. You knead to follow instructions. Fail 2: Something called "Crack" Toffee: Take One: I under cooked the toffee and it turned our grainy Take Two: I over baked the "crack" (again, Will and his nursing...) gross. Again sweet glass-half-full sister "It's like brown butter toffee" You're a peach, Rachie, but I saw you spit it out. It's better in the long run anyway, I just got back into my pre-pre-pregnancy jeans. Fail 3: "Buffalo Chicken Casserole" This one was an epic fail, just eat Wing Stop. Anything that boasts a healthy alternative to buffalo wings doesn't deserve your time. It smelled and tasted like a trashcan. My mom happened to be so lucky as to be at my house for this one and she kept making suggestions on how it might be better. We agreed that the only way it might be better was if had gone directly to the trash can- the outside trash can. Fail 4: As Blake calls it "The S'more Incident of '11" Please refer back to previous blog entry "Never trust a broiler..." The picture says it all. It really had potential, I might give that one a second chance... I asked Blake if he could think of any and he immediately says "Every time you make brownies and Chinese food" He's right. When we moved to this house I swore off Chinese food altogether- we live walking distance from three oriental food establishments. Weight Watchers has no business telling me how to make a crab rangoon anyway... Funny Avery of the week: We were at my parents house, my mom had been telling me how she thinks there is a raccoon under her deck. Avery wasn't paying attention and walks off the edge of the deck and lands head first in the ferns around my mom's fountain. I retrieve her from ferngully, she brushes herself off, says "I was looking for your coon, Nana" and walks off.

Vegas, Baby!

Blake and I just got back from a trip to Vegas to celebrate my 30th birthday and our 5th wedding anniversary....and a little spine conference action for Blaker. We left the Wednesday after my birthday and came back on Sunday. First time away from Will EVER and first time away from AK for more than a night. I had been diligently working on stocking my freezer with milk for this trip and I'm happy to report that they didn't even make a dent in the stockpile (I know you truly care about my freezer and it's breastmilk contents). It was hard to leave them, but I'm glad to say no one (except me) cried about it.

We stayed at the Flamingo since Blake's conference was there. We spent the first evening we got there just walking the strip and looking around. We watched the Bellagio fountain- "Time To Say Goodbye" AMAZING! The next day we slept in (this is so funny to me, because not only do we both get up pretty early anyway, we were on PST and we got up like at 5 AM feeling all refreshed and ready for the day) Got up went for a 4.5 mile run on the strip (seriously, on vay-cay? In Nevada in August? It's 105 at 7 AM, but it's a dry heat. So is my oven.). We had a yummy lunch at The County Club at Wynn where I enjoyed not cutting up chicken nuggets and a glass of Pinot Gris.
We spent most of the day lazing by the pool. This Flamingo GO Pool is not exactly a family friendly location, glad we didn't bring the kiddos. The first day we saw a girl get carted off for puking (nonstop) all over her cabana and the last day a young man get arrested for who knows what, but he resisted arrest so it was pretty entertaining. Oh and a mechanical bull riding contest- not really a some of the best decisions some of the bikini clad young ladies made. It was some super fun people watching. You actually couldn't get in the pool without touching someone. I have plenty of people always touching me at home, so I stayed out of the pool for the most part.

The next two days Blake was at his conference and I spent some time looking around The Forum Shoppes, Fashion Show and Miracle Mile shops. Amazing shopping- AMAZING. I ate lunch BY MYSELF twice. At Wolfgang Puck's Spago I had a pork tenderloin sandwich served on homemade soft pretzel bread with sauerkraut and homemade grainy mustard. If my mom had been there I would have slapped her it was so good (I'm giggling because I can't imagine what would happen if I ever slapped my mom, especially over a pretzel sandwich) We had two great dinners at Bobby Flay's MESA and Mon Ami Gabi. And we walked around in the evenings and held hands- just each others...kinda nice.

By Sunday, we were both ready to come home to the babes. I was so happy to see them I burst into tears in the airport.

Overall a great little trip! Here are a few pic's...

I am the King of Wishful Thinking...

Not familiar with this awesome song? Really? No? It's probably mostly famously (and only) known for being in the opening of Pretty Woman when Edward is driving around Hollywood after his girlfriend Jessica dumps him. The song is epic. No one seems to agree with me on this. I don't know, I really like the beat, tempo (it's a 90's song, tempo was a good thing.). Anyway, enough about my terrible taste in music- please don't judge me based on my playlists.

But there is a line in the song that I love: "I refuse to give into my blues/ that's not how it's gonna to be."I am rapidly approaching my 30th Birthday. Like, in four days. So, naturally I've spent some time lately reflecting on my last thirty years. I have faced birthday this very indifferently- some days it's no big deal, bring it on...other days a little blue about it. Now, don't start preaching "Thirty isn't old. You wait until ___!" I know, I know. It isn't old, but to a twenty-something, becoming a thirty-something is a little frightening. There is something about your 20's that's very magical. Life is just beginning, maybe you get married, put all you have into your career, start a family, travel. You're beautiful, you can get away with low rise jeans and wearing frat t-shirts.
What's left for my thirty's? I'll be too old and weak to enjoy life?!?! But, I have faith in that thirtysomething I'm about to become. I'm am not the old lady the 18 year old I was thought the 30 year old me would be.
I feel (and look ;) ) 19.
That's all it's about right? How old you do let yourself feel? I'm going to embrace checking the 30-39 age boxes, no longer getting carded, and the aching back I occasionally wake up with. If 60 is the new 40, then 30 is the new 10 right? I'm hopeful, wishful if you will, that in my 30's I'll only get better, wiser, more comfortable in my own skin.

To finish with a line from a great song: "I'll get over you 20's, I know I will. I'll pretend my ship's not sinking. 'Cause I'm the King of Wishful Thinking"...

Happy 4 Months Sweet Baby Will!

I cannot fully participate in this "Wordless Wednesday" thing. As previously stated, I talk entirely too much. But I'm going to try and keep it to a minimum.

Will is four months old today!! He weighs 15 lbs, 5 oz (this is the baby who was smaller than Avery was at birth!) He slept ALL night long in his bed last night for the first time. He's still just nursing- no solids for this boy for a couple of more months. He coos and goos and smiles like crazy! He's rolling over front to back and back to front- you actually can't lay him down without him rolling his way across the room.
He's very calm and mild mannered- he fusses a little when he's hungry or sleepy, but that's about it. He's very interested in his wild sister. He loves to watch her talk and move about. He continues to be the love of all three of our lives.

And did I mention he's the cutest baby alive? No, I didn't. Well, I'll just show you...

Things that chap my hide...

I like to think that I'm not very easily angered/irritated, but there are a few things that totally drive me bananas.

Thing 1: People (I'm sorry, but ESPECIALLY men) who don't hold doors. RUDE! Hold the dang door. Even if I wasn't carrying an infant in a car seat and chasing/dragging a toddler along, I think you should still hold the door. Today at the post office the woman walking in in front of me looked back, saw that I was juggling a sleeping baby in a car seat and a large package to mail and she still let the door slam in my face.
Hey, thanks. You beat me to the mail counter, I hope your package gets there before mine.

Thing 2: People who park too close to your car and you can't get in. I drive a gigantic, beast of a car and I can seem to pay attention to how much space I'm taking up in a parking spot how about you and your Ford Fiesta do the same.
Disclaimer: Don't park beside me like this, I will go out of my way to 'accidentally' hit your car with my car door. It's hateful, I'm not proud, but I will do it.

Thing 3: People who don't yield to ped's in x-ings. Stop your car, wave me and my crazy crew across the street, feel good about yourself, and drive on. It's that simple.


Thank you for letting me vent. Maybe I should deal with my rage issues.


But I'll finish on a positive note. I went to Kroger yesterday to do my weekly grocery shopping. I took both kiddos along with me. They are usually angels. Yesterday they were not. But it had to be done, so I strapped Will in the baby bjorn, got my reusable bags, and went to get Avery Kate out. She wouldn't get out of the car. This was in regards to some altercation we had over Despicable Me earlier. Whatever, I smile and unbuckle her, pick her up, and carry her inside. She's screaming, kicking, pulling my dress up. A sweet little boy, about 9 ish who was carrying his younger brother stopped and asked me if I needed some help and another older gentleman also asked if I needed any help and he even got me a buggy. And as we got in line to check out Will started screaming and the sweet couple in front of me let us go ahead of them.
Thank you sweet people of Little Rock, to the rest of you, don't embarrass your Mama and remember to be courteous.