Tuesday, December 4, 2012

While I Work On My Future, I Hope Stella Isn't Working On Hers

No parent wants their daughter dancing on tables, but for now...

So amusing.


I'm having a Holiday Extravaganza for my new Pampered Chef business! 

If you live in the Austin area and feel like celebrating with me, learning a bunch of new recipes, and would like to have the chance to win a LOT of free Pampered Chef, send me an email themommytherapy@gmail.com and I'll send you the info!

If you sadly don't live near me, but you are still interested in free Pampered Chef products go ahead and send me an email and we'll work it out!

If you don't care about free Pampered Chef, go to my website and just buy a bunch of stuff. www.pamperedchef.biz/leslied  Because that seems like a good idea!

Have a good week everyone!!!

Monday, December 3, 2012

Who Thinks Brenda Walsh Has A Gratitude Journal?

Remember yesterday when I was all "ah-ha" moment-ing it with Oprah's gratitude exercise?

That was nice.

You know what wasn't nice?

2:00 AM

You know when your two year old starts crying and moaning for no apparent reason?  Then you try to console and check for fever or sharp objects impaling them, and when you can't figure it out after an hour or so and you sort of feel like starting to cry too, but you can't because more than sad you feel really annoyed. 

And that lasts until around 4:00 AM.

Then after you have successfully placed your newly appointed least favorite child back in her crib, and you've peed because it's difficult to make it through the night without doing that at least once since birthing three children, and you settle in to bed and let your mind race a bit about how you're going to make Brussels sprouts and kale look good and sell a lot of Pampered Chef. Then you wonder if you should buy Tom's new wedge booties, and then suddenly it's 4:30 AM and you think you might scream.

(By the way, you should totally buy Tom's new wedge booties, you would know that if you weren't so tired.)

You know?

It seems annoying, but then 5:00 AM comes around and your five year old wakes you up from your thirty minutes of sleep to let you know he's going to go poop, because this is the type of information you must be involved in when you hold the title "Mom." 

You may, or may not, start to poke your slightly pointy toenail in to your husband's leg to see if he wakes up from the sharp pain, because even though there is no reason for him to be up other than to share your pain, that sort of seems like a good reason at that point.

(You may be more mature than I am, if so skip the previous paragraph, I never claimed to be mature.)

Then it's 5:15 and there are strange noises coming from your bathroom so you have to get of bed to investigate.  Then you feel filled with rage because the strange noises are actually just your five year old making funny sounds because he's "bored" pooping and wants you to talk to him about ninjas, which makes your head explode because you hate all things ninja with every fiber of your being at this point. 

Then you decide that perhaps God just doesn't want you to sleep because he obviously forgot that you turn mentally unstable without at least six hours of sleep, or simply wants you to be off your rocker all day in an exercise of personal and spiritual growth that is just going to leave you feeling pissed. 

So you get up and think that this would be a good time for one of Oprah's gratitude journal entries to make you feel better by remembering how blessed you are in life.

Are you following me?

But, then you remember you didn't get enough sleep for that crap.

So that's sort of how things started for me this morning.

The good news is that the day ended with this birthday celebration for my friend Jessica.

(Suzanne, I know you don't like that you aren't facing the camera on this one, but I had to go with the three out of four of us looking at the camera and you have that hip new haircut to carry you through any photo.)

Oh, also good news is that none of us are Shannon Doherty, aka "Brenda Walsh," whom I just saw starring in an ad for schoolplease.com where she had to act out all the trials of attending an actual school.  That was depressing. 

Dylan would be so embarrassed.

I hope she has a gratitude journal.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Oprah Told Me To Do This

I turned 36 today. 

Unlike last year, there is no big party, there is no pressure for major celebration.  I'm just sitting by my fresh Christmas tree, listening to music, and reading the insane number of Facebook birthday posts I've received. 

(If you aren't on Facebook, I truly believe you should be for your birthday alone.  I can not describe how awesome it is to have people from all areas of your life, family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, all wish you well.)

I have put Stella down for a nap and informed the boys that if they want any chance at celebrating me tonight (their only concern is cake,) they have to stay in their rooms and be quiet for at least an hour. 

An hour of peace is a gift I can use, and since I've accepted that they have zero desire of their own to celebrate me, I'm using birthday cake to get them to do everything today.

Alex took my shopping list and took off for the grocery store.  We might not ever see him again, but this is a wonderful way for him to go out if he isn't able to navigate the horrors of Sunday afternoon grocery shopping and make it home alive. 

I assume there is a good chance he will return home with all sorts of junk food he wasn't aware even existed anymore, but as long as he also gets what is on my list, I'm fine with that.  Not having to go grocery shopping is seriously a gift, well done Alex.

Earlier in the week I had put together a very mature scheme to make him feel badly for not planning anything for my birthday.  I booked a sitter in secret and planned to keep my lips sealed about doing anything for my birthday, despite my very real wish to go out. 

This is the part where you shake your head at me and say, "Leslie, don't play those silly games. You'll be the loser and no one will be happy. You're better than that.  I love your bangs."

Or something like that.

Then this is when I say, "But I want Alex to do something, plan something, and I don't want to spell it out for him because I'm irrational and believe it's possible for him to read my mind." 

Probably exactly that.

Fear not though, my friend Renee took matters in to her own hands and texted Alex, warning him of my evil plan and thereby ruining all chance of all of us being miserable all weekend. 

She's so mean sometimes.

I guess I'm sort of grateful though.

Fine, Renee is wonderful and she's 100% right, I was being ridiculous.

So we went out for a nice dinner last night.  We were relaxed and had a good time.  We came home early, despite Alex's offer to stay out, because that sounded better.  Apparently it's more fun to just relax and enjoy than turn in to a martyr....I know, I was confused at first too.

I consciously chose to enjoy my birthday, even if I'm wiping up poop and cleaning dishes.

The truth? 

I'm overwhelmed by how good I have it. You know how Oprah always says to start a gratitude journal to track what you are grateful for every day?  I'm sitting here doing that in my mind.

(What? You don't do everything Oprah told you to do ten years ago?) 

Well, I assume this is why.  I am taking a minute to think that even though 36 is starting to sound a smidgen older than I would like, I am over the freakin' moon about my awesome life, and being a martyr about anything right now seems like more pain than I need.

Despite their ability to drive me completely bananas, seriously wanting to stab myself in the arm just to focus on another type of pain than the pain they emotionally inflict on me, I have pretty awesome kids.

Stella screamed a lot of today, mostly requesting Alex and refusing me. This is usually just fine with me, but today Cole was kind enough to come up to me, huge me and say, "Mommy, I'm sorry.  It's your birthday and Stella hates you."  
I love that Cole thinks of things like this.  He is hilarious.  Hilarious.

I'm also grateful for Alex. I have a marvelous partner, assuming he hasn't been killed at the grocery store, in Alex.
He even loves me in goggles, which I feel says a lot because I look ridiculous.  I'm so glad I didn't go in to a career in something that requires me to wear protective eye wear.  Or a jump suit.  Or spandex.

Holy hell, I am really fortunate.

I have insanely wonderful girl friends.  These women sustain me, support me, call me out when I'm being crazy, and love me regardless.  I would be LOST without their presence in my life.  You know who you are, but Alissa, Anne, Sara, Julie, Kathryn, Amity, Jessica, Renee, Jenn, Nicole, Jennifer, Amy, Suzy, Kerri, Madge, Michele, Sally, Sabra, Jen, Suzanne....geez I feel like the list could go on and on.  I just love you all.  So grateful for good, solid women in my life who bring me joy.

Why don't I have photos of my friends?  That seems wrong.  Who wants to do a friends photo shoot with me? That sound cheesy, but it would be fun, surely it would be fun.

I also have awesome blog readers turned friends.  Example A below:

So fun!

Oh, and I have my dog.  But I'm not super keen on my dog lately because she pees when she gets excited and has taken to humping my leg, and only my leg, and that makes me uncomfortable.  Does she like me more than other people?  What is she thinking while humping?  Surely she's confused?

I don't think I can figure it all out tonight. 

At 36 though, life is good. In a few short weeks my parents then my brother and sister in law will be here and we'll be celebrating Christmas and it's all just a little too much.  It's all just so fantastic. 

Tomorrow I'll go back to sarcastic, but tonight I'm happy.

Happy birthday to me!