Friday, August 30, 2013

Little Dress

The times I wear a particularly skimpy little sundress are entirely contained in the following three categories. 

(There would be a graph, but I'm writing this on my phone and I haven't downloaded an app for that.)


10% I feel like wearing something highly sexual. Usually this is either because I'm radiating self confidence (check out these awesome LEGS I have going on over here!), or trying to seduce a particular male in one manner or (a not subtle at all) other. However, I must confess, there has been once or twice in recent times where I have chosen to wear such garments in a rebellion of being grown up. If I can still look like an irresponsible college student, surely I can't be getting old yet. Don't worry, I'm certain any day now I'm going to look at myself in the mirror and realize how absolutely ridiculous I look, and why don't I just go put on some of those super comfortable elastic waist jeans and orthopedic shoes instead. 

15% the term "hot as balls", although somewhat distasteful and vulgar, is still a pretty accurate description of the weather. It's usually quite (or maybe I should say, relatively... I do live in Colorado after all) humid too, and wearing things like clothes just seems so personally taxing right then. 

75% I'm doing laundry. No really, I just want to get my work pants AND my jeans clean in this one load of laundry, and therefore my slightly limited in actually practical clothing items wardrobe puts me in a very short skimpy sundress. Because hey, at least it wasn't in the pile of laundry I want to wash right then because I almost never wear it except when I'm doing my laundry. 

So there you have it. A little short dress is sometimes code for sexy, and sometimes just the practicalities of laundry day. 

Monday, August 19, 2013

First Day of Ballet

The shoes were fitted. The leotards found. The tights purchased. 

Finally, the first day of ballet class was here. 

Kristina was very excited. After all, she has been asking to do this for years and finds any new group situation exhilarating. 

Plus she's watched The Nutcracker a few hundred times, and is old enough to dream. 

This was Adrianna's first time doing an "extra curricular" class of anything. She was excited when we dug out Kristina's old leotards, and it took some serious convincing to get her to take off her little ballet slippers after we got them. 

But then I had the girls try everything on the night before just to make sure we would be set, and Adrianna was... Less than thrilled. 

However, I figured she just wasn't in the mood to wear a leotard (for the first time in months) right then, and that she'd get back into it once we were there. 

Yeah, I was wrong. 

There was lots of trouble in getting to class. 

First, even though I was able to get off of work in a timely manner, Kristina's summer camp was late getting back from their field trip to the pool so we were  definitely pushing it on time. 

Then I accidentally parked on the wrong side of the building and had trouble finding where the classrooms were. 

So Adrianna was a couple minutes late to her class. 

And she did not take to it well. 

I had to drag her out onto the dance floor, and then pry her death grip off of my arm so I could leave to get Kristina dressed and into her class. 

When I poked my head back in after applying a half dozen hair ties to Kristina's head in an attempt to make a bun out of her not overly cooperative hair, Adrianna saw me and took off running towards the door. 

When I sent her back in she had her head slumped forwards and her bottom lip out as far as it would go as she slowly shuffled over to the other kids. 

Then they did Ring Around the Rosie. 

Adrianna refused to hold hands with the other girls, but they grabbed onto her anyways and dragged her around in a circle until everyone else sat down as she stubbornly stood, crossing her arms and glaring a look that could kill at her classmates. 

She kept that posture and expression through the rest of the little dances, to the point that the teacher had to drag her shuffling across the floor when they were supposed to be doing leaps from one side to the other in an attempt to get her engaged. 

And then, when it was all done, Adrianna sulked in the corner instead of going to get a sticker and when I went to talk to her she climbed into my lap and started crying. 

So.... Not exactly the first day of dance class for Adrianna I was hoping for. 

We'll see how next week goes. We have until the third class to drop for the semester, and even though I really don't want to, it just seems cruel to make her keep doing something she is clearly not enjoying (not to mention a serious waste of money on my part). 

Kristina's first class, on the other hand, went wonderfully (judging from the parts I managed to see when not dealing with Adrianna). She was focused and calm and doing exactly what the teacher told her to do, and then was bummed that she had to wait a whole week for her next class when it was done. 

Maybe I'll put Adrianna into [something that requires no other children, minimal noise, and limited gross motor movement] class instead. 

Thursday, August 15, 2013


Today is Kristina's 6th birthday. 

In the past twelve months she started (and finished) kindergarten, (sorta) learned how to read and write and add a little bit (when she really wants to), lost her bottom two front teeth (but should have lost many more according to her) stopped playing with the boys (because they are mean and don't want to let girls play), and became extremely good at hula hooping. 

She still makes friends easily, but it also sensitive to kids excluding her from play. 

She still has meltdowns and tantrums, but also manages simple altruistic kindness to her little sister occasionally. 

She did a season of soccer and a season of t-ball, and got a reputation in both (wrong way Kristina and the only double play in little league history, respectively).   

Her drama is still drama, but it feels much older now in it's sass as she says "oh mom" and rolls her eyes at me. I'm not sure it's actually an improvement, but at least it adds variety from the three year old foot stomping Adrianna does. 

She seems big and little all at the same time, and some days it's hard to know whether she needs independence or cuddles to be her best. 

This coming year is going to be a big one for her. First grade at a integrated bilingual school will require her learning another language on top of the usual material. Ballet class will require a higher level of focus and discipline (and no talking during class). We will continue to grow as a family as the girls and I fill out our new home and adjust to my parents just living nearby.  

And of course, everything is intense with Kristina. But in a good way (most of the time). 

Happy birthday sweetheart. 

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Baby Dinosaur

Adrianna is three and a half, and Adrianna likes dinosaurs.

She was super upset she outgrew her dinosaur sleeper. My go to back up dinner for her is a can of dinosaurs in sauce (aka spaghetti-os in dinosaur shapes). She has a couple tiny dinosaurs that live in her dollhouse and are as likely as the mini-princesses and fairies to be chosen for a pocket on any given day.

And she justifies all rawring regardless of appropriateness as an unfortunate side effect of her being a dinosaur.

However, the cutest part is when she pretends to be a baby dinosaur, because then she curls up in my arms for me to be the mama dinosaur. 

And she's gotten smart about it. She wants to be a baby dinosaur for Halloween.... just so she can rawr to her heart's content.

Being the supportive mother I am, I have come up with a couple ideas to make it the cutest thing ever.

Like putting pigtail bows on the generic dinosaur custom so people know she's a girl.

And an over-sized bib so people know she's a baby. 

And handing her a bottle filled with cranberry juice and doll limbs so people know her mama has an awesome sense of humor she's a carnivore. 

Little girl, big rawr.

Monday, August 12, 2013

Little Ballerinas

Many years ago, in a state far far away, little Kristina took dance class. 

The tutus were puffy and sweet, the herd of blond pigtails to die for, and even the small talk with the other mamas wasn't so bad. 

And then we went through the dark time. Stress was high, money was low, and dance class was seen as a luxury we simply did not have the capacity for. 

However, little Kristina did not forget. As she grew into big Kristina she memorized our recording of The Nutcracker, put on endless performances for (the occasionally unfortunate) family members, and kept asking the same little question, "can I do dance class again?"

I looked. Several times I seriously looked. But the logistics were always too hard, driving and cost, the baby sister to drag along, the feat of making small talk with other mamas about how my life is basically a big steaming pile of shit and I'm really just hoping the kids aren't messed up for life at this point. It was too much to take on. 

But things are better now. Logistics are easier, money is ok, and small talk doesn't seem quite so terrifying any more. 

So I enrolled both girls in ballet classes at the Boulder School of Ballet. 

Their first class is next week, and it's hard to say who is actually more excited for it. 

Adrianna adores her leotards and shoes, and would wear them non stop if she were allowed. Kristina is already planning her invite list for her spring performance nine months away. 

And I am basking in the moment's glow of feeling success for being Good Parent. You know, the one that's not too tired and overwhelmed to deal with kids' extracurricular activities and voluntarily made life a little more busy and pulls it off with grace and poise. 

Oh, and the possibility of them being such awesome dancers that they'll soon be staring in stage performances of The Nutcracker themselves. 

Did I mention ballet classes haven't started yet? Not that my grace and poise might magically transform into muttered obscenities as I frantically try to find a missing ballet slipper ten minutes before class or consider any day that didn't involve biting, punching, or screaming to be a class act by my children. Nope, no crushing interruption by reality coming here, I'm sure.  

And don't worry, I'll make sure to post their nation wide tour schedule next fall, so everyone can see them on stage in all their (falling over, nose picking, not paying any attention, clueless) adorable little ballerina glory. 

Thursday, August 8, 2013

A Little Catching Up

Hey there. How are you doing? Life going ok in your small corner of the world? I think ok is a pretty damn good place to be most of the time. 

So, some of you (I know it's like a total of three, but you three make me feel super loved and appreciated as a blogger, so I will happily write long eloquent prose expressing my never ending adoration of you for noticing I exist) may have noticed I went from still-sometimes-daily-blogging to not writing at all for two months sorta suddenly. 

Sorry about that. 

My stress levels went to as-bad-if-not-worse-than-my-divorce level during the purchase of the condo, and that was even before I had to deal with physically packing and moving my belongings (by which I mean heavy books and children's toys, because really, who needs a bed?) and all of THAT fun. 

And then there was the rest of life. Children, work, boyfriend (yes, BOYFRIEND!!), laundry....

For a week I spent time every evening trying to write a novel. I got to 3000 words before the project was abandoned on account of life. 

My former mother in law came for a visit to see her grandchildren and spent a week hanging out with them while I was at work and with me too when I got off. 

The kids spent a week with their father, and I enjoyed some time having a little adult vacation with my boyfriend where we did crazy exhausting things like trying to climb mountains. 

Currently I'm dealing with the headache making challenges of getting kids ready for the school year and perks like whether I can afford a babysitter for the hours that I want one and which preschool Adrianna should attend because it gets really complicated with her IEP (special ed) designation and we have terrible infrastructure for working parents even with super awesome grandparents helping out.  

Oh, and I'm trying to plan a proper princess party for Kristina's 6th birthday. Because you know, that's like THE event of the year in her little mind so mommy better not fuck it up just because evite hates her so there still aren't any guests even though its only a week away and she messed up her work schedule and doesn't have off the day she reserved the park pavilion for even though she already paid them monies because the day she wanted it and was off of work already had a stupid corporate picnic holding the kids birthday party by the park pavilion. 

And in super exciting news, I dyed my hair dark purple and got half of it cut off. It still looks sorta long, but trust me, that is an illusion called "layering". My head feels so much lighter. And purple. 

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Adventures of the Unqualified Ball Handler

You know what the Internet makes look awesome? 

Cake balls. 

A google image search brings up never ending pages of beautiful delicious bite size pieces of cake that were totally the height of chic in some previous time that I'm pretty sure is less than the past five years which is actually really damn good for when I usually get onto these trends. 

So I tried to make cake balls. 

It did not go well. 

Like many things on the Internet, there are all sorts of variations on the same basic recipe, and I did have some confusion over differing or contradicting instructions on how to make this shiny ball of awesome, but ultimately it looked like they all boiled down to mush a crumbled cake made from cake mix and a can of frosting together, make into ball shapes, and cover with candy coating. 

Sounds totally doable, right??

The Internet lies. 

Not only are things like melon ballers (yes, I own exactly 4 kitchen implements and one of them is now a melon baller because clearly a bread knife or pasta fork would be far too useful in my daily life) completely useless when dealing with cake mush, but the whole process is a never ending exercise of coating everything in the vicinity with the horrible disintegrating mess that used to be your ambition for kitchen crafts and is now not even fit to be sprinkled. 

And then you get about five balls in and have completely lost all hope for in any way salvaging what was once a cake full of possibilities cooling on your tidy counter before you massacred it into crumbs for this ridiculous whim, but you still have a bowl full of useless cake mush on one side and a bowl of melted candy coating on the other and you are desperate to save face and somehow make something, ANYTHING, that could be considered edible by anyone besides your five year old armed with a spoon. 

So I did the only thing I could think of. 

I made a cake ball cake. 

I am very uncertain whether it is fit for human consumption, much less in any way possibly good (even though I totally put sprinkles on it anyways), but just in case it IS, here are the amazing instructions for what to do with a whole lot of cake ball disaster. 

I smashed the cake ball batter mush into a Tupperware container, dumbed the square shape it made out onto a plate, and poured the candy coating over the top. 


Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go buy some cheap wine to accompany my anything but classy dessert.