Breaking Gender Stereotypes One Set of Footy Jammies at a Time

Watch out world.  There's a Mom here who celebrates differences, encourages freedom to choose, and relishes in responsible decision-making.  

These kids are the face of innocence.  When is it that gender stereotypes will make them ashamed and embarrassed for wearing their siblings' clothes?  Guess what world?  When boys play with dolls, they learn to nurture.  When girls play with trucks, they learn mechanics.  And when kids are just left alone to have fun -- they do what feels good.  Remember that?   

I'm not shaking up the world because I let my kids wear different colors, but I hope I am because I encourage them to go with their instinct.  I hope compassion doesn't get lost when they head out the door.  I hope they seek diversity in friendship and experience.  

So shake it up.  Go on.  Tell me what you do.

Cheri's Call to Action

Please stop by Cheri's today to read her heartfelt outreach.  There is a family in need.  It only takes one person to change a life.  Maybe that person is you.

Eighty Five Degrees and a Visit From Nana

Home Sweet ... Where is Our Home?

As a child we moved around a lot.  There weren't any real reasons, or non-reasons that I know of.  Just life taking hold of my young mother and propelling us to a new destination.  There was a brief period when we lived in one house for 6 years.  After that, never did we live in a home for longer than 2 years.  And never did I mind the moving.

My mother was selfless when we moved.  Being the oldest, I always had first dibs on the best bedroom in the house, or in some cases, the only bedroom.  With new homes came new schools and I became proficient at either making friends quickly or becoming invisible slowly.  Both worked.  For many reasons I had been enrolled in eight schools in twelve years.  Going to college, the same college for four, okay five, okay six years was certainly a record (come on, I did one year of Grad school, cut me some slack).

But moving gets into your blood.  I don't even mind the packing.  So, if you've been playing the game you may know that we had a near miss with moving in a big way to Colorado.  Ahh, but here we are, and that's good news.  Roots have begun to grow.  I see them.  Feel them taking shape beneath my toes, and the toes of my sweet babes.  

But I must admit excitement at going house shopping tomorrow.  Imagining our furniture and footprints in each room is such a sweet and comfy place for the mind.  Heaven for a wanderer like me.  But I'm ready to stop wandering, and watch the trees around me grow, bloom, and fill out.  I'm ready to make marks on the wall where my children stood at each milestone.

Maybe we'll find our dream home tomorrow.  Maybe not.  But the looking and imagining is almost the best part.  San Diego is my home, our home.  I doubt we will question that again.  The journey ahead is one I will watch form and take place, like the trees around me.  Slowly.  Purposefully.  Peacefully. 

Underwater

I'm dying for a cup of coffee right now.  However, today I can not complain because the kids are BOTH napping.  Like, in their rooms.  But a good cup of coffee would pair really well with sleeping children in the house.

As I sit dreamily on the couch, my mind waves in and out of drowsiness.  My dreams sneak back into my mind, like a trick.  Remember this moment of your dream Jamie?  Yes, I tell myself.  And then it's gone.  Wait, come back, I liked that part.

Lately I've had many dreams of tattoos.  Sincerely, I find the art of them to be quite beautiful.  Now, it may be that I've fallen asleep one too many times with L.A. Ink, or Miami Ink speaking to me, so I suppose my REM didn't get too creative making the HUGE leap to dreaming about tattoos.  But, they do speak strongly to me.

I have two tattoos.  Nothing special.  A small daisy on my ankle that I got when I was seventeen of legal age.  I also have a  tramp stamp lovely fairy on the small of my back.  That one I got when I was around twenty two.

The thing is, I don't even consider myself a tattooed sort of girl.  I rarely think of the ones I have, so why am I dreaming of getting more?  What does it mean?

Lately I've had several dreams of getting a "sleeve."  I wake up disappointed that my artwork doesn't exist.  I dreamt of a gorgeous oak tree covering my shoulder and arm.  I'm sure that would go over really well when I went back to teaching.  And my kids would be so proud, right?

I've also had dreams of getting a mermaid sweeping around my fairy.  First of all GROSS.  I'm not a mythological lover.  I don't live in a world of Science Fiction.  I've never played Dungeons and Dragons.  The fairy is already far enough, but now this.  Why not just plop a Mickey Mouse head or Bart Simpson back there for lack of anything more creative.  So why the mermaid dreams?  

In my mind, it's beautiful.  Not like this...

Or this...

Or this...

There's some creepy stuff on Google.  

Oh well.  If anyone out there can interpret dreams.  Why is this girl wanting a tree sleeve and a mermaid going around her bottom?  What kind of screwy secret does that say about me?

In the meantime, I've found the perfect mermaid for now...  If only they delivered.

Calgon Take Me Away

Oh.  We had one of those days.  Well, not the entire day.  But it feels like it lasted about a week.  We had a Supernanny moment.  You know the one.  The one where Supernanny instructs the clueless parents on how to implement a time-out.  The kind where you want to shout at the television, "Get a back-bone you wimp-ass parent.  Who the f*#@ is in charge anyway?"  

Yeah, that was me at about 4:00 today.  The spineless freak going into a parenting rage.  

My kids, three and a half, and 27 days are not napping anymore.

I know.  I know.  It's okay.  Maybe their bodies don't require it.

Here's the thing.  YES, they do.  And my body requires their bodies to get the hell off me for an hour.  

So we play the game.  It goes like this.

Me:  You don't have to sleep but you need to go into your room for a REST.  I'll come get you when rest time is over.

2 minutes later... 

Annoying twin #1:  "Is rest time over?"

Me:  I SAID I'LL GET YOU when rest time is over.  Go back to your room.

Annoying twin #2:  "I heard something.  Is rest time over now?"

Me: " I swear we've taught you English.  And I swear you know what I mean.  I will tell YOU when rest time is over.  STOP asking.  Go back to your room."

Okay, you're rolling your eyes by now.  Use an egg timer.  Set an alarm.  Use a chart with happy faces and ... BLAH BLAH BLAH.  I know.  Shit.  

40 minutes later ... we're STILL playing the game.

So I grab an arm, march a kid back into their room while the other kid narrowly escapes my grasp while laughing something that sounded like, "You poor slob.  You'll never get us BOTH into our own rooms.  Give it up."

Ugh.

So yes, I'll try all of my teacher tricks.  I'll get the timer.  I'll find their currency (dessert).  I'll make a Rest-time chart.  But COME ON!  How did I lose the power?  Doesn't size matter (okay, let's not get into that)?  But come on.  I'm bigger.  I'm older.  I'm louder.  I can eat cookies whenever I want.  Don't they know R-E-S-P-E-C-T?

Don't answer that.  Just call freakin' Supernanny for me so that I can be humiliated on national television.

...they did end up staying until *I* came to get them.  But it wasn't really worth the struggle.  

SIGH...

So, I've now had ONE margarita, ONE Mexican beer, and ONE glass of Argentine wine.  Feeling a little better now...

I *HEART* Family!

Mom, Dad, Tatum, and Chase

Gran's 4 Kids

Gran's Legacy

Behind the Scenes

The "V"

Taterbug

Chasey Bear

Uncle Anthony & Uncle Brandon

Dad and his Boys

Say "Monkey"

The Whole "Fam Damily"

Kisses

Family

Twins Squared

My handsome twin brothers are in town from Colorado to celebrate my Dad's birthday.  Our family has always been a bit silly, but as years go by, and distance separates us, it makes get-togethers all the more silly. 

Uncle Brandon 

Uncle Anthony "Uncle Ant"

Little twins wearing Big twins gear

Big shoes to fill

Whoa!

Family Feet

Uncle Ant and Tay

Dad, just like I remember him .... all cozy on the couch.  

Family in town is always a good excuse to post lots of pictures, and not really say much.  

Today is officially "Picture Day."  And if you know my Mom, you know you'd better smile and pretend we're not a crazy family.  So I'd better go iron some outfits and get my smile on....

Say Hello To My Little Friend

So I woke up to a gorgeous mess compliments of my dog.  I'll spare you the details... Let's just say, I dropped the kids off at pre-school and raced to Target as fast as I could before the nastiness had a chance to settle into every fiber of the carpet.  

THIS is my new BFF:  The Spot Bot.  I'm hooked.  I may just give up blogging and offer to come watch my little spot robot clean people's carpets.  She's so sleek, and pretty, and, fun to play with, and ... okay, expensive.  But come on, I have two kids and a dog.  This thing will get more workouts than our marriage bed.  (Sorry, honey.)

So I'm having one of those days where Spring Cleaning has kicked in.  I *must* clean the carpets.  And while I'm at it, the toys need re-organizing (again).  And the dishes need to be put away.  The laundry needs putting away (yes, still).  My purse has jelly beans hanging around on the bottom.  My car has Starbucks wrappers stashed in every corner and pocket.  I don't know if I can get it all done.  But I'm starting by closing my laptop, inflating the bouncy house for the kids, and rolling up my sleeves.

My Google Reader is exploding.  I promise to catch up tonight.  Until then, wish me luck.  And if you ever need a nasty spot removed on your carpet, I make house calls.  

Chores

The dishes are piling up.

The laundry begs to be put away.

There are messages to return.

The dog really wants a good walk.

Toothpaste streaks the sinks.

I really need to vacuum.

Somehow, I think those things will wait.  

Do I Smell Something FREE?

Two shameless plugs and evidence of my poor Mothering from me to you.  

It's Giveaway time over at Trish's Blog.  Jump over for some Bloggy Bling (to YOU) and a giveaway.  I really am showing up in this in a future post. 

I also received the cutest Blog Award yet.  Thank you to OhMommy at Classy Chaos in a big puffy heart kind of way for this.  OhMommy is not only classy, but writes with wit, warmth, and charm.  That woman is good.  I bet she even vacuums in high heels.  Damn her.

It's so fun being a giver, and now I pass this along to Amy who is all about family, photos, kindness, and real puffy heart sweetness, not the sweet n' low kind either.  The real deal.

Laskigal is one of those blogger friends you know you could just invite yourself over last minute, open the fridge, grab a snack, plop and the couch for some good conversation.  She'd welcome you, I know she would.  You might have to side-step some of Baby J's toys, but that's what makes her a puffy heart kind of girl.

And Lindsey is the kind of sweet that gives you a sweet tooth.  You just keep heading back for more.  More sweet Mommy, more sweet little girls, more sweet pre-school talk, sweet teacher talk, sweet idea talk.  My teeth are aching just thinking of her puffy heart kind of sweetness.

Really, I puffy heart you all.  Really, I do.  YOU.

Speaking of all that sweet talk, check out what a bad Mommy I am.  Do you know what this is?

This is a picture of my son, getting laughing gas, to fix his CAVITY.  He's 3.  Ugh.

Here's the thing.  This was too easy.  Like easier than dragging two munchkins through a grocery store for sure.

He was great.  She was great.  We were all great.  Piece of cake.  Well, maybe um ... piece of something more dentally appropriate, like an apple.

See.  Easy.  Never mind that he's still high.

So then, we get home and I found this scene in their bathroom.  We have two children, but SEVEN toothbrushes, and three tubes of toothpaste.  No kidding.  You may think I staged this photo.  Nah.  I would have wiped the smudges first at least.  So I guess the cavity did make a bit of an impression after all.

When In Doubt...

Show pictures of the kids.

How Cute Is This?

No way?  Like my "real-life" friends don't already mock me for my blog addiction.  Now, I can play it up in style!  I LOVE these!  I'm so getting this one:

It says, "I am so going to blog this."  

(I wonder if the rack comes with the shirt...)

And of course, I'll have to dress my kids in these:

And for the wee ones, come on you know you want to put your baby in this:

So click on over to HERE (ThisisTrish'sBlog) to learn more about the Mom behind the cute stuff (okay she happens to be my Mom), or HERE to go directly to her store.

Oh, and I hear she's even going to do a GIVE-AWAY for any blog addict paraphernalia of your choice.  She'll be asking for some feedback on her site.  I'm so in.