The truth about this working mom.

So, I read a lot of blogs. Many of those blogs are awesome "mommy blogs" with a ton of amazing advice on raising children of all ages. My favorites, of course, and the ones ill read again & again, are the ones that are a little more truthful about the ups & downs of parenting. Usually, they have to be funny too, for me to become a dedicated (when I have time) reader. I've noticed the last year or so how awesome I am at making excuses &, while I know this needs to change, I can only read a mommy blogposts about organization or memorization of bible verses with your young children or whipping up prepared dinners every Sunday to freeze for the week or any other task that is so absolutely brilliant & wonderful that it makes me want to go crawl under a table & never come out. Or at least cry. I aspire to be a Supermom & that will never change, but selective blog-reading, at this time in my life, is necessary for my self-esteem & sanity

Maybe there are more moms like this out there? Maybe you need a pick-me-up like I have so many times needed. This could be that for you. This single photo is an honest, raw look into my life as a working mom. This is how I cope with a toddler at work when I allowed him to talk me into not making him go to school because he went to bed so late the night before because of parenting techniques that would horrify the Super Nanny. I believe this (barely) four year-old when he says this time will be different at work. He "pinky promises" he'll leave me alone to work in the office. Because I'm in such a protected & focused state of self-preservation, I see this for the brilliant use of resources that it actually is. I see the office supplies saved from complete destruction. I feel the sigh of relief he's not in the same room with me for a few minutes talking so incessantly I want to shoot myself. I see one less tantrum - actually two (his & mine)! I hear his giggling replace another episode of Backyardigans. I see bullets dodged. Maybe if you squint or stand on one leg or read the news first, you'll be able to see it too?

Cash's Report on dodge ball practice

No Excuses....but there are just SO many!

I decided to throw Derrek a surprise 40th birthday party. If he had any idea how to read my blog or log in to his own facebook, I MIGHT be worried about him finding out but I'm pretty sure the Internet is the least likely to blow my cover.

You know, I'm always whining about how behind I am but how much time I waste but I'm distracted but kids need me but Derrek has to work late blah blah blah. Well, as soon as I emailed out the invitation to Derrek's party (by the way, you're totally invited. unless you know you're not someone that would actually want to see. Please don't crash if that's the case. all other Derrek lovers that Derrek loves can check out the invitation and party info HERE: If you're coming, please register and rsvp on Paperless Post.


At the bottom of the invitation (obviously you've read it now), is a link (that doesn't work) to, what I'm calling, Derrek's Ink Fund.  HERE is the working link to more info about that.

Enough about him. Back to me. So I'm always whining and annoying myself and then I decide to throw this party. Great idea. He deserves it. Good job me. Then, we get a letter from TABC that they're gonna stop in for a "quick audit" this coming TUESDAY. This means, I have to officially catch up at work. Excuses won't work now. I feel like I'm asking Derrek for help when I say, "Derrek, I really need to work late tonight. Can you handle the kids?" but apparently, I wasn't clear the last few nights. What I'm supposed to say is "I need you to take care of the kids. I need to not be bothered about any of it so I can work." Something like that anyway. I guess I shouldn't ask him if he can, I have to tell him he has to. I'm totally over the whole "guys should just know what you want & need without telling them." I know with certainty that is NOT the case but wouldn't it be amazing if asking nicely got the job done?  Without comments, like "why can't you get all your work done during the day anyway?" ? I mean, obviously, it must be my fault that trying to be nice and respectful is delivered in such a way to invite really offensive accusations - many times disguised in simple questions. Sneaky. Three years ago, I'd be a soppy mess on the floor horrified that my husband doesn't even "know me". Luckily, now, I know it's not my job to twist and turn to be someone that he doesn't insult. His insults are his problem and come out most frequently when he's had a rough day at work. Today, he literally looks like he was hit by a truck. When Cash is exhausted, he's not very nice either.

I'm adding a button for the Ink Fund. I really want this for him. I want him to feel the love of so many that know him coming together to present this gift. I do think this is something that he needs to get out of a little rut that he's in. As much as he tries to be unlovable and unsociable, his friends and family are everything to him. We see a smart, talented, kind, former pretty boy with a warm contagious laugh and welcoming voice. Hopefully, a huge show of support and love will be the boost to see himself as he should. To dream again. To get healthier (both of us!) and to freaking pull his panties out of his butt sometimes.   And I really want this for me. He'll see his new tats and be forced to think all of these people that love him that he doesn't even realize totally love him and love him just as he is. And he'll probably tear up thinking about the overwhelming wave of adoration on a daily basis, at least for a little while. THEN, he'll remember it was me that orchestrated the whole thing and be my little puppy.

It's okay. You can laugh.

Ha! Read the title of this post again. See I totally had another idea for this but my crazy mind and fingers (that are supposed to be working because of said husband home with said children!) have totally derailed. I'm sure it means I have a special talent. It probably takes a kind of genius to start out addressing her own excuses and turn that into an all out vent  about her hard-working husband that is turning 40 next week.

DANGIT! Just realized that I have these big plans for a puppy-like husband because of my awesomeness but I have to finish this work BEFORE I can focus on the food and decorations and fun stuff at the party (pretty much EVERY detail except getting the word out) so my chances of "awesomeness" fade with every word I type that shave precious moments off my catching up months of data & journal entries that are stealing time from the party planning diva that I know is hiding in there somewhere. Who's lost?

There. I blogged. Whatever.

Schizo Blogger Blogs First Day of School

I already know this so ya'll will probably just have to adjust. Not sure I liked the other page but hope this one isn't too busy. It only takes me 8 hours or so to play with it and things are still not exactly how I'd like but I feel like this one is more flexible?

School started today. Thank you, Blake & Ashley for being such angels. Thank you, Cash, for, well, today, not making it easy at all for me! You wouldn't let me use water on your hair, or brush your teeth. It took 15 minutes to dress you as you laid in bed. You ignored your sister as she tried to help. You laid on my lap like a limp noodle when I put on your shoes. You threw fits when I wouldn't carry you. You only relaxed when your brother let you play games on his phone on the way to school, proving ever so much more, how spoiled and rotten your lousy parents have allowed you to become. In all honesty, I think I really could have handle all of that but, my heart will LITERALLY give out if you scream "MOMMY!!!!!!" with the voracity, volume and sobbing only comparable to scenes from The Excorcist, every single day when I try to say good-bye (for 30 minutes). I cannot do it. Although, I'm sure, somehow, I will for as long as you choose to dramatize the morning drop-off at your sweet, little Montessori school with your sweet, little teachers and non-stop activities that you enjoy. You enjoy them so much that every afternoon, I'll pick up a happy kid. Yes, you'll be happy to see me but also reply "great!" when asked, "how was your day, sweetie?" Nevermind that I spent the night before lying awake in bed anxious about the drop-off and reeling for half my work-day after the drop-off. Really, Precious, don't worry about that.

As Paige Rod Would Say, "EW!"

Paige Rodriguez (was Paige Whitlock at the time) is the first friend I made after college and she pretty much saved my life. What I wouldn't give to live next door to her until I die. She's one of those people that just TOTALLY 100% gets me. It kind of makes me think about that movie, "What's My Number?" with Ana Farris that most of you probably haven't seen. But the whole thing is about finding her true love and she finally figures out true love is when you're totally yourself. So, no, I'm not in love with Paige, like that. But I love her as a sister and find comfort, no matter how long its been, because she still gets me. Even with layers of marriage and kids and crazy ladies and life, she has x-ray vision and still sees me there.  Thank God for her and actually, for the fact that I have SO many amazing women that I call friends. I know how rare it is and I totally plan to start milking it a little more:) ANYWAYSSSSSS, Paige and I worked on the same trading floor but emailed incessantly all day, every day. We weren't talking about work either. Fashion. Love. Future. Weddings. Jokes. Her lame boyfriend. Business Ideas. My boyfriend. Our potential. Whatever we were talking about, I promise we were laughing. Oh my gosh, can I get to the point? The point is, she always spelled "ooooh" like "ew". But maybe she meant "ew". It was a long time ago but when I read that I have to make a face like something stinks. Whoah. How do I do that? It's totally ok if you're lost.

Why am I saying "ew" in the first place?  I'm still getting used to the many changes and updates in Blogger. I vaguely remember thinking how cool it was to see the referring websites when I blogged two years ago. Always felt like I knew exactly who was reading. Now I was just looking at my "stats" and there was a website I'd never heard of but the name seemed totally harmless. Uh, but it wasn't. It was disgusting. I'm still recovering. I don't like that I'm linked to it somehow. It gives me the creeps. I also noticed that the same number of hits from that site is equal to the number of hits I got from Russia today. Yeah, I know. Doesn't really clear anything up. But that's what the "ew" is all about.

I also learned in my short research session today that I need to ask my audience to subscribe. Some bloggers have neat little "buttons" but I don't know exactly how to do that. My buttons disappear (which I thought I liked; very clean looking) but, they tell me, I want people to follow me. So, friends, move your mouse over to the black bar on the right. Now go to the bottom and the word "subscribe" will pop out. Click it and follow the instructions. If you're moved by anything you read, I'd love to hear from you in the comments. I mean you've already gone through the trouble of registering with google right?  You might as well walk around like you own the place. If you're reading but this whole blogger thing isn't your thing, find me on Twitter @jordanb01, Instagram @penick5 or let me know you read the blog and friend me on Facebook. So wish, I had all the cool buttons for those things. I'll figure it out. One day, I WILL have buttons!!! (say it like a superhero). Paige blogs too. Probably consistently. Definitely beautifully.

If you're a visitor from a skanky website, please go take a shower before reading about me or my kids. Seriously. I'm totally grossed out.

Loving my loochies

 I have a friend named Travis Nichols. Actually, I'd like to think I'm probably one of the most important people in his life. Okay, so we don't talk much. I haven't seen him in a solid 8 years or so. It MIGHT be true that our lives are very different. I live in a small town with three kids dreaming about the day I put something really creative out in the world and he lives in Brooklyn - no kids yet - creating and being cooler than me. But he's always been that so it's okay.
Oh yeah, so why am I so important to him? I was his first best friend. That's right. Being someone's first best friend makes you eternally important in that someone's life. Obviously, I helped mold him into the man that he has become. That man is mad funny and has never (that I know of since we were born) not been working on a creative project. It's not like my 3 half-finished friendship bracelets kind of "creating". It's the "just finished my latest song", "read my new comic", "I'm published!", "here's my new record", "just got finished touring," "just moved to brooklyn" kind of creating.

He's as original as they come. I can't remember a memory with him that was not filled with laughter or some new story or original song or adventure. I really don't think anyone else in my life has ever made me laugh that hard and all the time. Granted, he was the pickiest eater ever and always bogarted all the cheese slices at my house but he's vegan now so that issue has been resolved. Yep, vegan. He's like a really good guy. He respects others and the earth. He walks the walk. He lives and breaths the principles he believes in and doesn't make others feel bad if they don't do the same. I admire him immensely, so I'm just gonna go ahead and take some credit, k?

These illustrations by Travis are "loochies" representing each of my kids. I hope he doesn't mind me posting them but, like his letters from our childhood, these will be treasured always.

See more of his genius at www.ilikeapplejuice.com.

Eye Candy

Hopefully, I'll figure out how to put pictures on the main page but here are a few of our latest session with Skylar Reeves from our 15 Minutes of Fame Party. (I've already booked one for March 2013 so let me know if you want in:)

Oh, and we lost Rosie this summer. It may still be a while before I can muster up the courage to dedicate a full post but she will get one. I'm just soooo very thankful for these pictures and that she was our dog. Dang, now I'm bawling.