Jenny On the Spot: Caffeinated mom, lover of dancing, glitter and glitter.

My Lucy.

This is not her birthday letter. I still have one more week before my baby turns 5 *gripping chest*.

As hard as it has been to to been the mother of  a baby, toddler and/or a preschooler over the past (nearly) 11 years… I am waving a reluctant goodbye. Lucy was born when Joel was 5 and Olivia was 2 (almost 3)…

The pregnancy of my sweet and spicy Lucy came as a great surprise. And as I sit here thinking back to the morning I peed on that damn stick… I can’t believe the twists and turns life has taken our family… all because of this one little girl.

And here I sit. With one week left of “4″. I am done having babies. I am sure I am fine with that… yet I feel pangs of sadness as I slowly wave goodbye to my identity as a mother of a preschooler. What day will be the last day I will carry her on my hip? When I set her down… will I know that was our last?

Can you hear me sobbing?
Continue reading ‘My Baby is Growing Up! Make Her Stop!’

Either I need to expose my kids to more things, or I need to continue harboring them from certifiable Awesome. I think I am going try to keep them from society as much as possible because, right now… they think I am THE SHIZZLE! I love this about me them.

For example, I was cutting a tag off a scarf. My Olivia (7) ooozed: Mom. You are SO creative!!!

Me: Why?

Olivia: Because you do things like cut off tags and stuff.

Joel (10): Yeah. You ARE creative, mom.

Me: Oh, and remember, you have also said I am really good at stirring. (my girls are so envious of my stirring skillz)

Olivia: Yeah. You are REALLY good at stirring.

I decided to let the kids have some of their own ego-build-time. I’m a giver. I asked, “How are you guys creative? I mean I know how you are creative, but in what ways do you think YOU are creative?”

Olivia (7): I can knit. You can’t knit. I can teach you!

Joel (10): Video games and technology. I helped my teacher with the computer yesterday. She wanted to put words on a picture… but it didn’t work.

Lucy (4): I am good at Lego building! I can build stairs and houses and people…

Dang it. I hate competition. I figure I won’t teach them how to stir. Then I will at least have something.

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The morning started early as my 7 year old climbed into bed, claiming she couldn’t sleep. I asked if she felt sick, she said, “No.” Heh. Read on….

Then my 4 year old, as she does most mornings.. popped-up her little head from the side of my bed and asked, “Can I snuggle you, Mama?” I can’t say no to that. She’s only 4 for another month. She is my youngest, so this is the last month of my life I get to snuggle a four-year-old in bed. Snuggle away, princess!

Soon after Joel – my 10 year old climbed up on the end of the bed and announced, “HERE MOM AND DAD! I have a card for you!”

He gave us a Valentine card from his heart – he drew a battle scene from Halo.

This is not a battle scene from Halo. It’s me in my Valentine colors. No one got to see my festivus-ness… read on…

Here is a picture of the flowers my husband gave me:

I LOVE tulips!

Here’s a picture of our “puppy” Kevin… wondering where his Valentine bone is:

Not unlike my 4 year-old, Kevin pops his head up at the side of my bed and wants to snuggle. Uh, not so much. He thinks he’s human. He loves to hold “hands”. Not kidding.

Here’s a picture of the chocolate chip Valentine pancakes I made with luuuurve:

Here is not a picture of the vomit poor Livi puked onto the side of the road and floor of the mini-van on our way to church Valentine’s Day morning:

[picture of puke unavailable due to not a taking picture of said puke *gag*]

*Digression! Could you please scroll back up to the first picture? Of me. No one got to see my cute, pink, Valtenitne-y colored top and sparkly heart necklace! Livi’s puke-itude happened about a half mile from church. I even had on make-up AND curled my hair. But due to the power of the interwebz… my efforts were not wasted.

Back to business….

Olivia’s tummy ache was short lived, because by the evening she was ready for sundaes. You’d never know she still had a fever in this picture. Sundaes make everything better, and here is a picture of the kids making their Valentine sundaes:

As usual, Valentine’s Day was a bit like everyday in the Ingram household… a little adventure. Maybe Forest Gumps said it best, “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.” If there was money in those words, we’d all be rich. And looking back on the day… I think I am.

If Valetines-ness ain’t your thing (or even if it is)… would you mind clicking on over to my reveiw blog to read about how Electrolux and Kelly Ripa are working together to help raise money for the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund. I post pictures of CAKES!!!

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He just can’t catch a break.

Not even from my 4 year old. In her defense, it’s not that her heart has turned black just yet. It’s her older brother and the schoolyard jokes he brings home… Like mean songs about poor Barney.

Not that I am a huge fan of Barney, but… he’s just tryin’ to get by like the rest of us.

I decided to capture Lucy’s song on video. Partly because she is so cute and partly because SHEISSOCUTE!!. I am really confused how we are not living on her income. She could totally be paying our mortgage with her child star paycheck. If she was a child star…. That’s Lucy. Always thinking about herself first. *psht* 4 year olds.

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I had to head out to a meeting this afternoon. I wanted my outfit to say something like, “I can hack it.” or “I can bring it”… or maybe “Professional laday is in da hizzouse!!!”

*ahem*

Before the meeting, I picked up my son from school. As we walked to the car he asked, “Why are you dressed up?”

I was all, “On account of the fact I going to a meet-in’… and want to look all professional, yo. Cutty. Do ya think I look professional?”

My son smiled, giggled and said, “Yeah. Or you look like a Jonas brother.”

I said, “So, you think I’m hawt…” No, really. I said that. I’m always fishin’ for a compliment. I don’t discriminate. I didn’t get the answer I was fishin’ for, tho. My question grossed him out. On 2 levels. He said, “MOM! I’m a boy and your my MOM!”

Whatever.

And here it is… my formerly “professional” outfit (albeit a *little* funk-ish/subduedrocker-ish/canIgotothedancecubnow-ish because that’s how I roll)… that I will hithertofore be referred to as my Jonas brother outfit:

I think my kid was wrong. I kinda think I look more like Zac Efron hanging out with the Jonas brothers… I’m hawter than I thought…

Actually, my son looks like Zac Efron… Oh dear…

Aaaand on further inspection… I suppose I COULD pass for one of the Jonas Brothers, but curvier and better hair…

…aaaaand maybe I look more confused, but less angry. I think we are all wearing black nail polish though… I have said before that I think I kinda dress like a teenage boy. But I was mostly joking. I didn’t realize I was actually spot-on. That’s right. That’s me Jenny Spot ON Jenny On The Spot…

*Just a few days left to enter for a chance to win a $100 Visa gift card courtesy Tom’s of M via my review blog – Click here for details!*

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WHERE do they get it from?!!!

Oh. Nevermind.

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I woke up one morning.

I got out of bed.

I heard my Mama…

And what did she say?

She said,

“What do want,

On your breakfast bread?”

I said,

“JAM ON IT!”

Heh. ‘Member that rap? Ah…. childhood. I’ve always been a wrapper at heart. Even as a blue eyed white girl… whose first experience with racism was against her (me). The boy I liked in 4th grade (3rd?) was Hispanic, and I was not (but my heart… if he only knew the Juanita Veronica Maria Carmen Montoya de la Cruz that lived inside). When he found out I had a crush on him he told me, “I don’t like girls that are white. I only like brown girls.”

Continue reading ‘Make Me Laugh Monday – My Children, My Madness, My Joy… and Also My Digressionses’

This weekend sucked. I was going to “fluff” up the “sucked” part and be all, “This weekend was Stinky Stinkerson.” But if I wrote that, the the “totally honest” part of my title would not have been “totally honest”.

It was not a weekend of illness. Nor a weekend of tragedy. Nor a weekend of poverty, nor oppression, nor starvation, nor anything worthy of garnering an uprising of pity, concern or having a group of friends rally and bring my family meals for 2 weeks (though I would never turn that away, rain OR shine)…

It just sucked. The “Mom!!!” part of this weekend, sucked.
Continue reading ‘Can I Be Totally Honest?’

Edited: Go here! Go Here! It’s CHEERUPNATION!!! Want joy? Need joy? It’s all ovah the place at CHEERUPNATION! Also, a very special picture is up there today… I would say it is the fullness of my heart… Take a moment to click over. I promise, your face will not be able to resist a smile… nor your heart…

****Now back to regularly scheduled blogging****

My son is 10. I am 36. I knew “Barracuda” before he did. Heart did it first. Not Fergie… If it wasn’t for Shrek the 3rd…

I must admit, Fergie rocks Barracuda.

But Heart did it first.

Here’s what went down in the minivan this morning:

Me (cranking up the radio): Joel! JOel! JOEL!!! Rock! Rock? Dude!!! What song is THIS?! Huh? HUH???!!!

Joel: What mom?

Me: What song is thIIIIISSSS???!!!

Joel: Could your turn the radio down, mom?

Me to myself: Kids. *pfft*

Me (turning down the music): What song is this… ehhhh???

Joel: Uhhhh… Barracuda? But it’s…

Me: That’s right. It’s BARRACUDA. The ORIGINAL. That other one you like… pretty awesome, but it’s not the ORIGINAL. This is the ORIGINAL.

Joel: You mean it’s OLD. {giggle giggle giggle} *antagonistic eye contact with the woman who gave him life through rearview mirror*

Me: You. Turkey!

Then I looked in the rearview mirror to give him the stink-eye but plucked a gray hair from my right eyebrow instead.

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If you pop on over to my reader blog at The Kitsap Sun, Mom on the Spot, you can read about some fun we have been having with Pringles!

Also, I am looking for Mom Fail submissions. Click here for more info! Hope to hear from you!

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In keeping with the “No, maybe that was more wrong than funny” theme… Here’s a little conversation one might have overheard at our dinner table not too long ago.

Boy kid (eldest): I don’t want to sit {here}. Why can’t I sit right {there}?
Continue reading ‘At first I thought this was funny, but maybe it’s just wrong.’