Rub-A-Dub

As Thick As Thieves

I admit it.

I love the Real Housewives series on Bravo. And in particular, I have loved their latest installment featuring the New Jersey housewives - much more than any of the other shows.

It took me up until the season finale to put my finger on just what it was I loved about the show.

Family.

Two of the "housewives" are sisters, one is a sister-in-law and the others are friends of the family (excluding Danielle). They fight - and then they get over it. They're ridiculously & brutally honest with one another. And they defend each other. As the oldest sister put it, "We are as thick as thieves and will protect each other to the end."

Now I realize my family is nothing like that. We have no mob ties. We don't have thick Jersey accents or big hair. And as far as I'm aware, we don't have millions of dollars lying around for random botox, boob jobs and Bentleys.

But I am so grateful for my family. And I'm so grateful for our history.

I guess with the older I've gotten and the further I've moved away from my hometown, the more I've yearned for and appreciate that family togetherness. I had the opportunity to hang out with my family this weekend for my cousin's wedding. (congrats Luke & Amira!) I loved seeing my aunts, uncles and cousins, as well as my immediate family. And I had a blast with them after the wedding reception as well.














And although I said it a million times by the time the night was through, nothing is more important than your family!

So although we don't have botox, Bentleys or the boobies, we do have a bond that I'm realizing is timeless. We may bicker or get annoyed. But, I think we are, pretty much, as thick as thieves.

And Olivia, you can relax now. I finally have a new post! :)

Happy Friday

(not sure if he's hugging or choking in this photo)

What a week! In the past seven days or so, I've officially stopped nursing, the little guy has started crawling and big brother has invented a new word. Alsolly. It's a hybrid of "Actually" and "Also". Example: "I love cheesy eggs. Alsolly, I love Trix Yogurt for kids." I don't have the heart to tell him that it's not really a word. It's too darn cute to stop. I'll break the news by his first grammar test.

Hope everyone has a wonderful weekend!

Mad Love for My Mantle

It was well over a year ago that I did a post on my living room fireplace mantle - and how I could not figure out what to put on it, above it, around it, etc... In fact, it was so long ago, it was posted on the now-defunct Frerichs Family (super underpants boy) blog. This picture was taken before we moved in, with the builder's decor on top.

Fast forward to a year later. After around five purchased-and-then-returned pieces of art, mirrors, frames and doo-dads, my mantle was yet again bare. Nothing looked right. And the deal was, I like darker woods - bronze/chocolate brown - to decorate with. And our mantle was stained a honey color. The two wood tones clashed...and I gave up by leaving it bare.

However, this past weekend, my parents came to stay with me while Troy was in Chicago. With the encouragement of my mom, I boldly walked into Sherwin Williams on Saturday morning and asked to be armed with everything I would need to paint my mantle white. L4 white to be exact - the color of our trim, doors and railing.

Now, I love my mantle.


(isn't it weird how the same wall paint color looks so different in the two pictures?)

I know some people might think I'm crazy for painting it, but to be honest, the original stain job wasn't very good. You could see the brush strokes and built up stain globs. And from the day we looked at the house, I told my realtor and Troy that I wanted to paint it white. They both thought I was crazy...but I was able to eventually turn Troy to the white side.

Anyway, I know this matters nothing more than a hill of beans in the grand scheme of things. But for my little nook of life, it has made the space a bit brighter and less bare. I still need to inject a bit more personality and life into the decor, but it's a start. Thanks for helping, mom and dad!

Out of the Mouths of Babes

The big guy can be full of some serious wisdom sometimes. Luckily, I had been putting together my grocery list and had a pen and paper on the coffee table this morning to write it down. It went almost word-for-word like this.

"God is a good healer & fixer.

God puts us in the right direction. (stands up to illustrate) He turns our legs and our feet in the right way.

God gives us the words to speak and puts words in our tummy.

(about 5 minutes later)

God is up in heaven. He doesn't fall."

Who says you need a devotional for your Monday morning picker-upper?

Geek Chic

Troy loved comic books as a kid...and possibly secretly still does.

About a year ago, he brought a large stack of them from his parents house to share with the big guy. After all, everything has come full circle. Transformers, Star Wars, Superman and even GI Joe. Since the big guy is a fan of most of these, I had planned to buy some comic book frames and hang them in his bedroom. But as it turns out, comic book frames are hard to find.

So when we recently switched bedrooms, I decided to put some old frames to good use. I scanned in the covers and cropped them to 8.5 x 11. Now, the big guy's room is filled with some of his favorite characters, including Harry Jones!

And I do believe that Daddy appreciates the nostalgia as well.

Here's to my geek chic men...coming from an even geekier and not-so-chic mama!

MJ

Watching a bit of the Michael Jackson Memorial today brought back a funny memory. I had a conversation with my Grandma Cleo shortly after the Thriller album came out that went something like this:

"Grandma, don't you love Michael Jackson?"

"Who's Michael Jackson?" she said.

Imagine a look of utter disgust and amazement on my young face.

"You don't know who Michael Jackson is? When I'm a grandma, I'm going to love Michael Jackson!!!"

While I was recalling that, a funny image popped in my head...

Michael teaching Cleo how to moonwalk up in heaven.

Stupid Cow

It was a very unfortunate series of events that led to the big guy's fear of cows.

About six months ago, the big guy watched an episode of Curious George that would forever change his life and outlook on feel-good PBS morning shows. In this episode, there was a mysterious "moo" coming from the dark basement of George & The Man with the Yellow Hat's apartment building basement. It was an ominous, haunting "moo" that struck fear in the heart of primate and man alike. And although it was revealed in the final moments of the show to simply be one of George's See & Say-type toys, it forever scarred my son.

Later that same week, as we were watching "Ice Age" on a cable network, a Hardee's commercial came on. It was advertising its latest & greatest chicken sandwich. The commercial featured a man hunched down behind a bed in a seedy motel, only to be walked in on by a scary and realistic looking cow who felt as though the man was cheating on him with the chicken sandwich.

This was the breaking point for the big guy. Not only did scary cow sounds come from the basement and disrupt our happy, innocent, otherwise PBS-loving lives...cows also burst into our rooms and gave us dirty looks.

The months following these horrific episodes were rough on both the big guy and us. He wouldn't sleep in his bed. He would run into our room in the middle of the night. He would cry as we discussed going up to his room to read a book and prepare to sleep.

Why?

Because of the cow shadow.

Yes. A shadow of a cow.

Apparently his post-traumatic, bovine-induced stress had caused him to imagine a heifer-shaped shadow in is room. And what could be worse?

I could see this fear manifesting itself in many ways. He would creep out his room to sleep in the spare bedroom, being out of site of the horrible shadow. He would cringe as we drove past open, green pastures on our way to the in-laws. He kept to a strict regimen of McDonalds cheeseburgers, the only meat he will eat. "Die you sucker" I could almost hear him mutter under his breath between bites.

So the past few weeks, we've slowly transitioned him out of his room and into the office/spare bedroom - first moving only his bed. Slowly but surely, everything has switched. I asked him shortly before switching out the closets - the final and most tedious step of the transition - "are you sure you want this to be your bedroom?"

"Yes, mommy. There's now cow shadow in here."

Fair enough.

He's been doing ok in his new room. He still comes into our bedroom in the early hours of the morning from time to time, but I don't think I'll ever kick him out. I'll miss that some day. We just won't allow him to start his night out in there...that's strictly for mommy & daddy to do.

Last night, little brother woke up around 3 am - wide awake! If I walked away from his crib, he cried. Screamed. Freaked out. So instead of staying up with him, I decided I would lay him down in the spare bedroom so that I could sleep by him, and he would be happy to not be alone. As I laid there with no tv on, no night light on, I wondered..."What if Hayden wasn't crazy? What if there is some crazy cow in his old bedroom?" It's amazing what you'll imagine in the middle of the night.

But as it turns out, there was nothing to fear in that room.

However, I may take just a bit more enjoyment as well in eating my hamburger or steak this holiday weekend.

Stupid cow.

Lesson in Child Safety

So I know you're supposed to lock up cleaning supplies, medications, any type of sharp objects, etc...

But fiber bars?

I had no idea they could be so dangerous in the hands of a young child.

After I put the little guy down for a nap yesterday, I decided to check my email. After all, the big guy was playing with play-doh downstairs and all was well.

Five minutes later, the big guy comes upstairs with a dark chocolate almond Fiber Plus bar in his hands, asking me to open it. I explained to him that these were only for mommies & daddies, and while doing so, I realized that he had chocolate on his mouth and hands. Turns out, he had already gotten into the box.

Let's just say that last night was a bit rough for the little man.

And from now I, I will put my Fiber Plus bars on the top shelf - maybe even under lock and key.

On the bright side, he is potty trained now. Otherwise, things could have been a lot worse!

Swim Babies

Ok, so the big guy isn't a baby anymore, but he looks so tiny in that huge swimming pool. Here are some pics from his swimming lessons and Carson's first trip to the pool. I plan to have a real post soon - one with more than just photos. For now, here our my lil' swimmers.