And the mother of the year award goes to...

...not me.

Yesterday I let both Aubrey and Nathan pee outside, in a somewhat public area. I HAVE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE. Other than an urgent stop on the side of the freeway on our way someplace, never have we (okay, I) allowed the kids to pee in anything other than a socially acceptable receptacle. Until yesterday, in which I let both of them. (Dane is excused from this because he carries his bathroom with him where ever he goes.)

See, the trouble with little kids is that when they say, "I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM!" what they really mean is, "I had to really really go about 20 minutes ago and now I'm actively wetting my pants." When you are on the go, this is bad news. By the time you park, find a store/public facility that will allow you to use their toilet, unload all the kids, and get to the bathroom, the child in need has wet their pants, gotten it all over their car seat, and probably has sat in some dirt. There just ain't the time for that kind of time.

It started with Nathan. He is even worse than Aubrey. When he says he has to go, YOU HAD BETTER JUMP. We were on our way to Target, no where near anything, and I ended up letting him pee on some bushes in an abandoned parking lot. He told me, with great sincerity, "Mommy, these plants are so glad to have a big drink of pee pee." Right.

Aubrey was another story. We had gone to a local play area after lunch. Thankfully no one else was there. She had sworn on her life that she had used the bathroom before we left. Two minutes into play time she is dancing and crying (literally) and moments away from flooding her pants.

For you moms out there, you know that getting to the park is no small process, what with the sunscreen and shoes and maybe a snack and the walking to the park and the walking home. My closest friend was a ten minute walk away and we weren't going to get that far. So I did it again. I let her pee right there on the road, hidden from sight by a parked car. The whole time I thought, what kind of mother am I?? Where do I think I live that I can allow my kids to pee anywhere they so choose? And why on earth don't I carry a spare potty seat in the car?!?

Last parenting story. For my squeamish male readership, you might want to skip this part.

During all the above mentioned peeing escapades, we did make it to Target. While paying for my purchases, I can see the checker looking over my shoulder at my cart with a weird expression on her face. To my horror, I turn around to see that Dane has taken a tampon (wrapped, thankfully) out of my purse and is sucking on it! I am tripping all over myself, trying to take it away . Dane is howling because I have ripped his toy away from him and the other two are asking, in their best outside voices, "Mommy, what is that? What are you doing? Why is Dane crying? Why are you sweating profusely and speaking incoherently?" (Okay, maybe only I imagined that question.) The check out gal was almost purple from the effort of not laughing. I was purple with embarrassment.

Just another day in motherhood.

Nothing like a freshly laundered codpiece

Thanks to my sister Lianna, I have been on a non-fiction/historical fiction kick about the Tudor monarchies (Henry VIII, Elizabeth, etc.) I have been introduced to a world of near constant beheadings, religious intolerance, women being married, discarded, shunned, betrothed, beheaded, and a fresh new vocabulary. Let me introduce you to the new 16th century vocab word of the day: codpiece. If you don't know what it is, look it up. I'm not explaining. (Hint: it's the 16th century male equivalent of a padded Wonderbra.)

Greg and I are taking a ridiculous amount of enjoyment in working this word into our vocabulary. For instance: "Honey, will you make sure my extra large codpiece is clean? I have a meeting with some important clients." OR, "Young man, watch your mouth! You are getting too big for your codpiece!" Maybe even, "Does that codpiece come in leopard?" Go ahead, try it. I'd love to hear how you casually work this word into your everyday life.

WAY OFF THAT SUBJECT. It would be more than irreverent to dedicate a post to codpieces and not acknowledge the fact that last weekend me and the kids were babied and pampered and WELL FED by my darling grandma and grandpa. I love it that my kids are getting to enjoy their still robust great-grandparents. Plus, nothing like pinochle with my grandparents to make for some good stories. (Yes, I play pinochle. So does Greg. Want to play?) Thanks Grandma and Grandpa!

I'll sign off with a few pictures. Have a great weekend and make sure you, and your codpiece, and clean and fresh for Monday morning.Dane, revisiting finger painting. I forced him to use his binky so he would stop eating the paint. As you can see, he still tried.
"Look ma! I know how to break my neck!"
Direct quote: "Mom, I am a kangaroo and this is my joey." Thank you wildlife magazines!

April 2, 2009

Look no more for the Joneses in Liberty Lake, WA. We threw a few belongings in our van and moved to Mexico this morning.

Do you like that shaken or stirried?

That my friends was the most difficult question I had to answer this last weekend. We met up with Angela and Justin in Leavenworth for the first annual Baerlocher/Jones weekend. I say first annual because it must be repeated. Often. The fun cannot be overstated.

Things I learned from this trip:

-While you may cry when you wave good-bye to your three babies, waving frantically from the window, you will spend very little time wishing they were hanging out in the hot tub with you. You know, the hot tub you spent hours in, under the stars, laughing and relaxing in. Yep, didn't miss those babies then.

-Ninety minute massages are not 50% better than sixty minute ones. They are 400% better.

-Watching Gonzaga make it to the Sweet Sixteen is fun. More fun when shared with friends. Best fun when watched with friends and accompanied by an adult beverage.

-Sitting on a hotel bed for hours, eating chocolate, and talking until 1 a.m. is awesome.

-Going on getaways in March is splendid. Nice hotel at good price, no crowds, and amazingly cooperative weather. Breaks up the monotony of an otherwise monotonous month.

-The Baerlochers are hands down one of the coolest couples we know. I would go anywhere with them. Any time, any place.

-Coming home to your babies rocks.



One of those precious, above mentioned babies.
They always love, respect, support, cuddle, help, encourage, and cherish one another. I am also a compulsive liar.

The brain washing around here is complete. Here the babies are, eating pizza, prepped for the first round of March Madness.

Have a great week y'all. (That was a shout out to a certain Texas friend.)

Easter video

I haven't made it through this video dry eyed yet.

I walked up hill both ways

With a child coming on school age, the question of where to send our kids to school has been on our minds a lot lately. Public, private, or home school? Or just put a blanket over our heads and hope the little darlings learn all they need to know off of bathroom stall walls?

I'd love to hear other opinions. If you have kids in school, have an opinion on a type of schooling, or any other information related to this topic, I'd love to hear it. What do you think?

p.s. I do have one option that I like best but will not say because I don't wish to influence the conversation. I'll revisit that after people respond.

Different kinds of awesomeness

This is what the Jones family is like.

Aubrey loves reminding her brothers that she is oldest, there for, most awesome. (As a fellow oldest child, I relate to that feeling of greatness.) Yesterday she told Nathan, "I am older than you. I am taller than you. I am bigger than you. I am 4 1/2 and you are only 2. AND, I wear a size 5 clothes. AND, I wear a size nine shoe. (No matter that Nathan wears the exact same size.) AND (wait for it), I AM THIRTY SIX POUNDS!!!!!" Poor child with her under developed sense of self esteem.

Greg has a black beanie hat that he wears all the time. Last night our friend Roth told him that it makes him look like he's going to hold up a Walgreens. I think he looks hot in it. It makes me wonder if that's my tiny way of imagining I'm married to my own smoldering bad boy. He does look a lot like James Dean.

It is dumping snow on us right now. The family mantra is, "NO MORE WINTER!" Repeat as often as necessary for health and happiness.

Dane refuses to be an innocent bystander in this family anymore. He is a person! With opinions! And a doozy of a fit! He flopped on the floor today in the kitchen, wailing, signing please, and alternately pointing furiously at the counter. He had spied the remains of bad news brownies.
While reading the kids a story before nap time today, Nathan pointed to one of the pictures and said, "Uncle David is like Santa Claus." The book was about The Little Red Caboose. The pictures was of a "big black engine, puffing and chuffing." David, what are your thoughts?

It's 1:30 and I haven't showered yet. I keep thinking I'm going to get a work out in. The decision I'm at now is whether or not showering is even worth it at this time of day. If you stop by, I'm guaranteed to look shlumpy and unbathed.

The blushing bride and dashing groom

See the post below for a thorough explanation of this stunning young couple.

Do you rock?

Matrimonially speaking I mean? Because my parents do! Today, Wayne and Julie Montgomery are celebrating 30 YEARS OF HOLY MATRIMONY. (Some years more holy than others.) :-) Oh, and I'd like to point out that they are still happy together. You know, no living in separate cottages or communicating via their servants.

Congratulations Mom and Dad! You guys are awesome and I love and appreciate your example so much. If Greg and I are as happy at 30 years as you two are I will consider ourselves truly blessed. Have a fantastic day!

p.s. My parents have neither servants or cottages. Or a moat.

What Not to Wear

(Donatella Versace was hurt in the making of this post.)