That Last Hour....

CAT UPDATE:  They're alive! I finally sunk to the extreme low of taking pictures of random cats throughout the neighborhood and emailing "Cary" a lineup asking that she identify which were hers.   When I eventually got confirmation, I properly introduced myself to "Hancock" and "Chica" (who had indeed been outside) and allowed them back into their much warmer house.  And how do they repay me for all of my hard work?  One guess?  Anyone? The little started throwing up....everywhere.

Other than that, we're settling into our tax season lull where Luke and I spend every night arguing over whether it's worse to be working away from the kids 80 hours a week or worse to be alone with them for that same amount of time.  We usually agree it's a draw. I'll tell you, it does not matter if I am MADLY in love with my children 79 of those hours and feel Heaven's blessing pouring down on me while experiencing extreme gratitude that God would let me be with them for all of their daily milestones!  That last hour.....that last hour... you know what I'm talking about, right?  That last hour where you are sure your neighbors are going to call CPS and you're going to be left explaining to some social worker why your child is half naked in timeout with finger paint in their hair screaming, "I'll never love you again mommy....NEVER!!!!!!!" in a house where the clean laundry pile looks much like the dirty laundry pile and you're zoned out watching some questionable show on ID Discovery. Been there?  Or is that just me?

Anyway, in an effort to divert my attention away from how awful this time of year is for us, I've been planning a vacation to act as my light at the end of the tunnel! The only problem with this is that I'm a woman and we plan vacations like they're weddings!  We have checklists of details that only get more complicated the more time we have to plan.  Given the months I have, I'm not just pricing the big things like airfare and hotel....I have full-on found myself looking at images of food available at restaurants in the vicinity thinking, "I should write down that I want to try that!" I'm not talking about steak dinners here, I'm talking about things like Churros and Carmel Apples because this is the year we're going to Disneyland! Do you know that there are entire websites of people who post pictures of Disneyland food?  Is it weirder that they take and post pictures or weirder that I somehow found that site, browsed it, and am openly admitting it to you now?  I'd say that's another draw....

The biggest dilemma in planning a Disney vacation is that Emery has no idea what Disneyland is!  We did take him to Disneyworld when he was 20 months old, but other than a few pictures of him in his obligatory Mickey ears in front of the castle, it's nothing he really remembers.  So now I need to figure out how to get him completely pumped about going while simultaneously breaking his heart and making him think we're not going so I don't have to listen to two months of, "Is it time yet?"  Talk about a roller coaster!  For example, up until now, he's been begging to go to the Great Wolf Lodge (it's the only kid oriented place he really remembers so it's the default winner) and I asked him how he would feel if we went to Disneyland instead?  He cried. I mean CRIED!!  That was one of those hours.

To combat this I bought him the Disneyland Kinect Adventures game to introduce him to the concept of Disneyland. (If you have a Kinect, this game is awesome!  It's a very accurate virtual Disneyland game).  It worked!!  Now he doesn't want to go anywhere except Disneyland!  Unfortunately, in the meantime I grew even more determined to make the trip somewhat of a surprise so when he asked if we could go to Disneyland I said, "Maybe this year we'll do the Great Wolf Lodge instead." He cried. I mean CRIED!

Yeah, I did this to myself! Why not make 80 hours/week of primary parenting just a little more frustrating to get through?  Pray for me people.....I'm my own worst enemy for sure.

Have a great Tuesday!

PS: If you think that because I admitted we're going to be out of town that I'm opening up my house to being robbed, then I offer this advice:

1. Bring an allen wrench because I'm not replacing our old Ikea furniture until my kids stop pouring milk on our couch.  Trust me, it will cost you more in gas to get here than you'll make in the craigslist market selling our Scandinavian space saving shelves!
2. "Cary" owes me a favor or two and I fully expect that their new family of four will take shifts camping out at my front door watching for suspicious activity.  In fact, asking her to do this is the next item on my checklist...

Do you think he'd had enough?  Poor kid is in a happiest-place-on-earth coma!

At Least Invisible Cats Make Cheap Pets!

I feel like I need to preface this entry by telling you that I adore my neighbors!!  But I am losing my mind this week!  You see, I am "cat-sitting" while they are out of town and this has been the biggest fail of my life!  Where do I even start??

When Luke and I moved to Sherwood, the thing I was most excited about was living on a cute little suburban street with other young families where Emery and Luelle could ride bikes on the sidewalks and play in the front yard.  They say you return to what you know, and that is how I grew up so naturally, it's how I wanted to raise my own children. Well we hit the neighbor jackpot over here and we've been very happy!  In particular, we have a wonderful single mom with two older children living directly next door. To protect her privacy, we'll call her "Cary."  For real, I'm thinking about having Cary raise my kids because she did an amazing job with hers!  Her high school aged son mows the lawn, takes out the garbage, and has incredible manners!  Her middle school aged daughter steals my heart every time we talk.  Maybe that's because whenever we talk she is dropping off some treat she baked and reminding me that she's almost old enough to babysit! And I loved her even more when she was going on a trip to see "America's Got Talent" and stopped by to show me her glitter, "I Love You Nick Cannon!" sign.

Anyway, "Cary" went on a Hawaiian trip about this time last year and came home sporting a rather large diamond on her ring finger. As you can imagine, her 2011 Valentine's Day proposal turned into a 2012 Valentine's Day wedding!  Aside from being very happy for her, what this means to me is that I am now tasked with watching her two cats for an entire week while she and her family are away celebrating in Mexico.  Are you still following me?  Here's the thing....I live next door, we practically share a back yard, and I have never even seen her cats and have no idea what they look like! When asked, she explained that to me by saying they were strictly indoor cats.  Then she asked me to stop by twice a day and give them each a scoop of food. Easy enough, right? The only other instructions I received were that if the little one started to throw up I need to cover the food.  People....this is why I don't own cats!!  No instructions should ever begin with, "If the little one starts throwing up...."

So here is how my week has gone thus far:

Day 1.  Not gonna lie....I forgot to feed the cats.
Day 2.  Morning- fed the cats, Evening - they didn't eat any of the morning food so I didn't have to do anything.
Day 3. Morning - cats still hadn't eaten. Evening - They still hadn't eaten.

And this is where I started to panic!  It slowly dawned on me that I had never actually seen these cats anywhere!  So this is what I am working with:
1. Don't know that cats names.
2. Don't know what the cats look like.
3. Haven't seen the cats in days....or (more accurately) ever.
4. Cats haven't eaten.
5. These are indoor cats that should never be let outside!

What am I supposed to do? Clearly I don't want to be going through people's personal spaces but of course I started an all out search in a cold, dark, empty house going, "here kitty kitty kitty...." only to scream bloody murder when I saw the shadow of what was mostly likely a serial killer lunging at me from behind a closed door.  In a spit second I knew it had to be the same thing that probably killed the invisible cats! Thank the good Lord above, it just turns out that nothing completes the room decor for a 12 year old girl like a life-size Justin Beiber cutout lurking amongst a sea of stuffed animals. (Sidenote: Hey!  We have the same taste in music!)

As you can guess....I still haven't found those cats and am starting to think I am either completely nuts....or my neighbor is!  And I just had to send probably the most awkwardly worded email of my entire life that went a little something like this:

"Hey Cary! Sorry to bother you on your wedding day, but are you sure there are real cats inside your house?  Is there any chance you let them out on accident and can you describe them in detail to me?  I don't want you to stress...I'm sure they'll turn up, I just want to make sure that they get their food.  Again, please don't spend your wedding day worried about this....but is there any chance someone took your cats and didn't tell you? Congratulations!!!"

I bet you thought this story would have a more satisfying end?  Nope! At this point I'm contemplating adopting two strays, leaving them inside and then being all like, "Wait....those ones aren't yours?! How was Mexico?"  Anyone have a better plan? 

Happy Valentine's Day!

Go Shorty.....It's Your Birthday.....

Okay, in order to even write this entry I need to come clean to all of you about a secret of mine. It's completely personal. It's something I try to hide. It's also something my husband would rather keep under wraps and bad enough that he distances himself from me whenever I slip and display this side of my personality.  But today I will come clean.  Are you ready?  Here it is:

My name is Jenny, and I have the musical taste of a 12 year old girl.

Whew, that felt good!  There is freedom in the truth!  I'm not saying that I kinda like Taylor Swift's top 40 hits. I'm more saying that I know most words to all of her albums!  And I only started with Taylor Swift to ease you into my confession.  I listen to Bruno Mars on YouTube, I think the musical choices on Glee are genius, and worst of all.....I think that Beiber kid can sing. Admit it, it's catchy stuff!  Am I going to buy concert tickets anytime soon?  Ummmm.....no!  But if a boy-band slips into Pandora que once in awhile I might give them a quick thumbs up.

Anyway, I had to be honest about that because this morning I was listening to a little Boy band mix that included the Beiber. I only have permission to do this while my husband isn't home and it's a Friday, so why not?  What's difficult about listening to his music in particular, is that it creates internal conflict. I think the songs are innocent, cute, and idealistic but......he doesn't even look old enough to sneak into an 8th grade dance, so I'm not sure why he's singing about lifelong love in the first place?  I bet my mom thought the same thing about the members and songs of N'Sync back when they were my (at the time "age appropriate") idols. I mean, truly....if that kid wasn't a pop star, he'd be stuffed in a Senior's locker....guaranteed! I've lost perspective over time though, do they all start that young? It's kind of like when you watch a movie you haven't watched for 10 years and all of a sudden everyone that used to be older than you in it is younger than you, and also you finally get all the jokes that used to go over your head.  Have you done that?  Yes people...we're old now!   But I digress....

You see, we've had a Beiber backfire that I am going to have to explain to my husband as soon as he gets home and I'm not looking forward to it!  It all started when I had a few songs playing in the background on my computer.

Emery: "Mommy....what's a "Shorty?"
Me: "Ummm.....sometimes boys calls girls "Shorty."  (Sidenote - this is  a weird one for me because that was a derogatory term that I was VERY familiar with growing up and now it's a term of affection?  I was born 20 years too early!!)
Emery: "Does dad call you shorty?"
Me: "No, daddy's not a thug."
Emery: "Can I call Lulu Shorty?"
Me: "Sure, kid....sure. "

But it didn't stop at his sister Lulu.  Emery is now fully believes he has permission to call every female he encounters "Shorty."  I don't know if it's going to be a long phase, or  a short one, but the timing could not be worse!  You see, he's finally making the jump from size 3T to size 4T. If you're a parent of a toddler boy then you know this; when you move into a new size your little angel looks like he takes fashion directives from X-games all stars who have enough room in their sagging pants to keep an extra skateboard or two.  This is also made worse by the fact that my favorite shoes for Emery are white on white Nike Air Force 1's because they match everything! Does it get more pop-cliche than that? So while daddy isn't a thug, I'm now the proud mom to a sagging 4T wearing,  pop culture shoe sporting, "Shorty" calling,  mini wanna-be player.  He'd have mad game except the girls in his class are a solid 6 inches taller and don't want to play lightsaber.  What can you do?  You have to have common interests, right?

In any case, there are worse things he could be calling his little sister so I will mark today a victory by default!

Have a great weekend!

Cheap Fixes and Crafty Solutions...

I'm getting an early start this morning!

But before I begin wasting your time with what has become my virtual dumping ground for all things that should remain private to those who posses common sense, I just want to stop and say thank you for all of your very kind comments about my blog.  I am in no way a writer! That was established in the 8th grade when I spent 5th period writing (using the term loosely here) for the school newspaper and was only ever trusted to be the editor of the "song dedication" section.  Can you guess how hard it was to be in charge of the "song dedication" section? Well let's just say it's about as difficult as playing the outfield in T-Ball. (And I know this because I spent two years there making daisy chains unaware that pint-sizes game were even going on!) I mean, all that was required for my writing assignment was that I checked the song dedication box kept in the school library, screen submissions for profanity, and type them accurately before the deadline. And seeing as we only had 4 issues a year...well, you get the picture. In any case, you are all very sweet and I admire your dedication to procrastination by means of reading my blog as much as I detest my dedication to procrastination by means of writing my blog.

So..... It's almost Thanksgiving!! This is a special holiday for me in that I am not usually invited to participate in the food preparation for reasons that can be easily assumed if you've ever read the very literal title on the top of this page.  It's like an entire day dedicated to giving me a break!  And for that....I am thankful.  I'm also thankful that it means my husband will be home for a long weekend!  I bet you think it's because I love him and miss him and value our time together?  Well I could say that, but then I would be giving into the very human instinct to disguise my real reasons with obligatory statements that might somehow make me feel like I am confirming to you that my marriage is still amazing! So I will instead just skip straight to honesty and tell you that before we start building holiday memories by holding hands around the Thanksgiving table, I need him to do some serious work around the house! Well that, and I love him, and miss him, and value our time together. (Can't fight instinct!)

More specifically, I need him to fix our kitchen window.  Sometime during the monsoon in the last few days our window started leaking.  Normally when these things happen I just ignore it like it's a "man problem" that doesn't concern me the same way he would ignore if I had autumn scented hand soap out during spring time. Men and women...different worlds, different priorities!  But seeing as I thought that he had already attempted to fix the window (he hadn't) and it was still leaking I started to get a little more concerned than usual. I do want to clarify that Luke is incredibly handy!  He works on our own cars, he can do minor remodels, and every picture frame in this house is hung to my exact standards.  He's also crafty with ideas and solutions!  This one time when I took him to meet some old college friends, he even successfully helped devise a system to inflate a kiddie pool with a leaf blower, duct tape, and a straw! (Side note - I probably shouldn't brag about any project that ends with your host saying, "I need to clean up this garage before my father-in-law sees how we did this.") In fact, because of Luke's proven skills, when things go wrong with his handy work, I get a little worried. I even had to corner him about fixing the window a full day before the long weekend started!

So last night, just barely out of his work clothes, he was outside in the downpour double checking the seals and waterproofing our window once again.  I felt so bad as I stared at him from a very warm and very dry kitchen while he worked for nearly 45 minutes to remedy the leak.  When he finally came in he told me that he was pretty sure he fixed it. I was trying to be supportive when I replied by telling him that I was sorry he had to be outside for so long!  Then he says, "It wouldn't have taken that long except my first idea to use duct tape didn't work the way I had hoped!" Ummm.......what???????!  Duct tape?  That was his original solution?  In all fairness when Luke gets home from work I thrust the entire weight of the household on him demanding that he watch the kids and give me a half hour to regain my sanity. And I have a hard time breaking this pattern even if Luke has additional responsibilities that require him to be outside in heavy rain, the man is a Saint...trust me! Anyway, our conversation when a little like this:

Me: Duct tape?
Him: Yeah....it was pretty smart, I built a ledge so the water would travel over the window.
Me: Duct tape?
Him:  Jenny, it's not a big deal!
Me: Duct tape?
Him: Jenny!  It was never intended to be a permanent solution.....unless it worked.

I'm kind of being an awful wife right now because I am writing about the 1% of the time where I really question his judgment while I never take the opportunity write about the 99% of the time he successfully fixes problems that are mostly created by me. Someday I'll give him a guest pass to take over my blog and he can tell you all of my shortfalls and begin to even the score out.  I'm guessing he could start with the day that I closed the garage door on myself breaking the car antennae off while he very sweetly acted as though it could happen to anyone!  That's actually the least of my offenses.....

Until that day, I hope you all have a wonderful wonderful Thanksgiving!

"Guess My Weight" and Other Bad Party Games...

Is it me, or is November flying by?  I truly did not even realize that Thanksgiving was next week until I stopped by a harvest-decorated Safeway this morning for an energy drink, a bag of chips, and some turkey-jerky.  Now I'm not denying that there may have been a time in my life that this could have been my breakfast of choice (dorm room memories come flashing back), but that was long ago when my metabolism was a little faster, my good-judgment was a little slower, and I could buy anything with a student-ID card at a campus store.  10 years later, my  body doesn't forgive me in quite the same manner for eating meals made out of a hot-pot. So just in case you're curious, the chips are for a monthly dinner club where I am only ever trusted to bring the one appetizer I have managed to master (chicken dip with chips), and the turkey-jerky is for Emery's preschool Harvest Party where my tardiness in dropping him off left me the last option on the contribution sign-up list. Apparently you have to be early if you want to bring apple slices or crackers, who knew?

The energy drink actually was for me!  I don't drink them very often, but in preparation for all the holiday-eating heading my way, I've amped up my workout program and needed a little artificial kick-start to get in gear.  Of course, it's not hard to "amp up" your program when your normal routine consists of waiting for the perfect time of day to break out your Jillian Michael's DVD knowing full well that (between kids and cleaning) that time only comes at 10:30 pm which is also conveniently when I deserve to get some much needed rest.   I mean....power walking to the mailbox would be "amping up" my workouts!  Okay, it's not that bad, but really I do need to rearrange my priorities and get fitness back in front of fraternizing.   And this week presented the rare chance to do just that! It was a perfect storm of motivation, opportunity and willpower!

Motivation:  Truth be told, it isn't the holiday eating that brought me back to marathon elliptical sessions. It was something far worse!  If you've been a reader of my blog for a while, you know I'm not particularly fond of personal trainers {read about it here}. So when my friend (name withheld) told me she was now dating a personal trainer (name also withheld), I should have been far more leery than I was! Instead I jumped at the chance to meet him over dinner where after two glasses of wine and 2 hours of asking for fitness & diet tips, he told me he can guess anyone's weight within 5 pounds.  Sober Jenny would know that that statement has red flags all over it!  Buzzed Jenny says, "No way!  Guess me! Guess me!"  So he guessed......14 pounds heavier than I really am!  Keep in mind for someone 5 feet tall, 14 pounds can get into double digits for % of body weight. Translation: I can't blame it on a bulky shirt!  A lesson for all of us: "Guess my weight" is NOT a good party game!  Now I have 14 imaginary pounds to loose on top of all of the "real" weight and toning work that I was already dreading!

Opportunity: I'm probably one of the few people in the world that truly adores their in-laws! For real, I won the "in-law" lottery!  So much in fact, that I was giddy at the prospect of moving mere blocks away from mine.  There are some bonuses to this set up. Close babysitter? Check. Old fashioned home cooked meals? Check.  Free basement gym loaded with toys and already baby proofed? Check!  So while I was sad that they have been out of town for a couple of weeks, I jumped at the chance of claiming my rights to the most private athletic club in town where I can work out to my heart’s content while the kids watch Rio.  Another lesson for all of us: 45 minutes on an elliptical is a long time.  45 minutes on an elliptical watching Rio (again) is a much muuuuuuuuch longer time.

Willpower: This is where the energy drink comes in! I don't have a lot of willpower that isn't spent on making sure my kids are safe and fed, my design work is done, and my house is clean. I'm not too proud to admit I need a little help sometimes.  And in this case, my help comes in a 16 ounce double strength can.  I completely forgot how much energy a RockStar can give you!  The last time I drank these was in my early radio days (RIP KUFO) when they sponsored our station and we had cases and cases laying in the sales department to grab anytime we felt the urge. Truth be told, my manager actually excluded me from those allowed to drink them whenever they wanted. He (not so subtly) told me it was for the sanity of all of those in my department. I was only allowed, unfortunately, to take them home for consumption.

Regardless, I finally got my old stride back!  I'm hoping it doesn't fail me anytime soon because the only back up plan I have is personal conviction and I try not to go there if I don't have to. But here is a wonderful quote that I plan on reading in case of a lack-of-motivation emergency:

I am your constant companion. I am your greatest helper or your heaviest burden. I will push you onwards or drag you down to failure. I am completely at your command. Half the things you do, you might as well turn over to me and I'll do them quickly and correctly. I am easily managed but you must be firm with me. Show me exactly how you want something done and after a few lessons I'll do it automatically. I'm the servant of all great men and, alas, of all failures as well. Those who are great, I have made great. Those who are failures, I have made failures. You can run me for profit or run me for ruin; it makes no difference to me. Take me, train me, be firm with me and I will put the world at your feet. Be easy with me and I'll destroy you! Who am I?

I am HABIT...

 

I'm Going to Need More Ziplocs...

I have a riddle for you:  What's three and a half feet tall and can mentally change seasons quicker than the aisles at Target can have a life-size Santa glowing alongside deeply discounted Halloween goods on November 1st?   Yup.....it's Emery!  And I'm assuming every other post-toddler on the planet?  Or did I just unknowingly over emphasize seasonally driven consumerism in mine?  I mean, this kid was asking about Christmas before he even had the goggles of his aviator costume off after a night spent collecting candy in the most labor intensive way possible; going door to door for one piece at a time.  The same candy that is now safely stashed far above his line-of-sight where my husband and I can eat mini Kit-Kats to our heart's content (so long as we are willing to move some furniture to get at them.)

In any case, it's becoming a tradition in our house to spend November 1st gearing up for the,"What Christmas is really about" speech that needs to be prepped, revised, and solidified for that moment when Emery first lays eyes on the "Big Toy Book" that is bound to be in our mailbox daily from now until December 26th.   Thank you Toys R' Us for that published bundle of joy!  Emery takes better care of that catalog than he does his precious train collection. So as far as the hierarchy of his child-world goes, I'm guessing even Buzz Lightyear would be jealous of the instant rise to the #1 spot in his heart that this catalog commands. I would take it away from him, but this is America and that is his own little version of being sold a slice of hope. I think there might be a good lesson in watching him circle things that "Santa" intends to run out of before he ever lays foot in the Schultz household if he knows what's good for him.  For instance, more than 4 batteries? Not getting it.  20+ pieces?  Not getting it. Makes noise and doesn't have on "off" switch?  Not getting it. Requires me to transform it? Definitely not getting it!

So naturally, you can imagine my surprise that while our house currently remains toy catalog free and a safe zone from the Christmas "I wants" for the time being, Emery still proudly announced the following statement yesterday:

"Mom.....I know the first thing I am going to ask Santa for this year!"

I was just waiting for him to drop the Lego bomb! I've been dreading that for so long because I am way too type A to comfortably make it through 4 years of collecting Legos.  As it stands now, the 6 sets we already have are each separated in Ziploc bags, labeled, and stored with their appropriate instruction manual. I cannot sustain this system  if we start collecting Star-Wars sets and I am required to know the difference between a Clone and a Droid.  It's never going to happen!  But what came out of his mouth was not "Legos" (crisis averted for now!) Instead it was.....

"I'm going to ask for a piccolo!"

Whaaaaaaaaaatttttttt????!!!!!?  A piccolo?  Like a mini-flute?  That's it, Little Einsteins is now banned from my house!  I'll buy every Star Wars Lego set known to man and invite Qui-Gon Jinn to dinner before I buy Emery a piccolo! For a moment I forgot he was 4 and wanted to shake him and say,

"Emery......5th grade band is not cool! I know you think it is because you get to miss half of geography and your friend "Amber" wants to play the flute next to you. But you haven't met the teacher!  He's kind of weird, ranks you by making you sit in certain spots, checks to see if you practiced, and ultimately will ask you (after 4 months) if you can even read music or if you are just pretending? Then your parents will find out that you quit without telling them and will be livid because they spent all of this money on your piccolo and never even got to see you perform at an assembly! If you want to be in music, wait until high school where you can join choir, follow the kid next to you, take extra field trips during the year, and get an A for doing it! Work smarter, not harder kid."

Of course, none of that comes from personal experience....

In any case, I kind of feel like the season has officially begun!  I obviously need to dust off my, "Jesus is the reason for the Season" speech and try and squeeze in Thanksgiving, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that this is easily my favorite time of the year!

Have a great weekend!!

This is the only picture I have them from Halloween Night.  He's not looking and she's cramming a hot dog in her face.  It's a framer!

Vente Triple Shot, Two Pump Sugar Free Vanilla, Nonfat Nonsense...

I think today is one of those days where my brain won't wake up.  Even coffee didn't help!  For those of you who are close to me, I bet you were thrown off by that because everyone knows I don't drink coffee!! For real, I don't.  It hasn't been the easiest thing in the world to resist a habit that brands you a true North-Westerner (along with an active REI membership and "Coexist" bumper sticker on your hybrid coupe) but I have staved it off for years nonetheless.  From a 3 year stint as a Barista in college to enduring countless business meetings in Starbucks, I have never given in to this $5/day drug! 

You hard-core coffee drinkers are an interesting bunch...flashing your "Gold Cards" (and free flavored syrup privileges) almost as though God himself should have sanctioned you to be a part of the interview process for anyone who dares to stand at the helm of your favorite monster espresso machine.  You bicker back and forth about whether Starbucks has gone too corporate or if it's better to be in the Dutch Mafia, and you turn giddy when you get a free birthday drink like you just found $10 in the dryer.  You abbreviate the words "whipped cream" to "whip" (this bothers me so much for no particular reason...you're really not saving that much time.) You speak a nonsense language that would go so far over my head if I hadn't paid off part of my education by enduring collegiate late-night studiers screaming orders at me like their final grade depended on my propensity to get exactly 2 pumps of vanilla in their 110 degree latte. And worst of all, you coffee lovers push your drug on people like myself swearing up and down that the next Pumpkin Latte I try is going to BLOW MY MIND like the 5 I've had before (once a year for the last 5 years) never did.

But no one has ever gotten to me.  My kitchen counter has remained Keurig free and I've never once waited in line to redeem a Starbucks Treat Receipt.  So getting off my high horse.....and onto a confession, I should be honest and sat I actually have a faaaaaaaar worse habit.  It's a little something called "Diet Coke."  I LOVE Diet Coke!  I love it in the morning, I love it in the evening, I love it in a can, I love it in a bottle, I love it in mixed drinks, I love it!!!  If I could pre-write my obituary, I'm sure it would say:  Jenny died happily of aspartame poisoning.  For those of you worried about my health, I drink a lot of water to compensate and do limit myself to a certain amount a day.  But I just can't shake the silver can habit no matter how many times someone tells me that my drink of choice can literally take the rust of a nail or shine up an old penny.  I just shut my ears and scream "lalalalalalalalalalala!"  So, continuing in the spirit of honesty, my husband and I (who has the same horrible habit) have been trying to quit drinking soda for the last 5 years at least once every 3 months.  He usually leads the charge, I always cheat, and we never succeed.

But three weeks ago, for whatever reason, Luke decided to buckle down and get serious about changing his ways.  I didn't notice at first.  But after a few days of some incredibly chipper morning check-in calls, I couldn't figure out why Luke was SO happy.  I mean....did he get his hands on some uppers?  He works at an accounting firm so unless it's "wear a Hawaiian shirt day" I couldn't imagine that anything spectacular was happening at the office. (No offense accountants....it takes all types to make the world go round!)  Then he came clean.  "Jenny, I switched to coffee and it's AWESOME. It tastes like crap (direct quote) but it's AWESOME." So being the ever supportive wife that I am, after he proved his dedication to living Coke-free for two whole weeks, I bought our home it's very first coffee maker. (I'll get him the Keurig if he makes it a year).  So anyway, he's been using it....and I've been staring at it wondering if it really is the key to getting off the brown syrup? 

I hadn't really been motivated to try it until today though and it's only because I had one of those nights. The kind where you wake up to a 3 foot shadow by your bed whispering, "I have to go potty!"  Being the great mom I am I said half-awake, "So go."  

Emery: I already did.
Me: So go back to bed.
Emery: I want to sleep with you.
Me: No, go back to bed.
Emery: I need to change my pants, they're kind of wet.
Me: Did you pee them?
Emery: No! ..................................a little.
Me: Okay, I'll get you some new pajamas.
Emery (After changing): Will you lay with me?
Me: (half asleep) For a few seconds.

So if you're a parent you know how this ends.  I spent all night in bed with my toddler who was clinging onto me like a baby monkey in a grip Houdini himself couldn't escape, on a horribly uncomfortable mattress with cheap pillows, with only a Cars blanket to keep me warm, while the worlds brightest night light rotated ocean fish around the room and left me with what can only be described as the worst night of sleep the universe has ever offered.  If ever there were a time to try that coffee maker....it was this morning!!

So I did!  My final verdict is that I am not sure that coffee is great.  But my mug of creamer and sugar was fantastic! I think some caffeine snuck in there though, because my heart is pounding and I'm not even sure this blog makes sense?!  Forgive me for the time you wasted reading it!

Happy Thursday