tiffany's spot

Tonight for dinner I made chicken fettuccine   Alfredo. We are very fancy. I took a bite of chicken and said "it's hot!" "What?" Asked Jordan. "What's hot?" "The chicken!" I said.  "Oh," she said. "I thought you meant hot S-E-X." She went back to eating her dinner. Steven looked at me, somewhat concerned.  "What is that about?" He asked. "Why would she know about hot and sexy?" I figured she meant "hot" as IN "sexy," but I figured I'd ask.  "Hey Jordan, what do you know about hot and sexy?" "Well," she contemplated, "people in my class think that sex is when people kiss each other naked." We both burst out laughing. Seriously, our kids are never going to want to talk to us about this stuff again.  "Uh oh," I whispered to steven, "she's getting closer." "Do you kiss Daddy naked?" We laughed some more, with the add

There is so much to blog about, but so little time. Okay, I'd likely have time, but I generally forget or don't feel like it. We've celebrated two birthday parties already, the kids have had field trips, school swim days, tabloid day, sleepovers, play dates, long afternoons at the park, etc. We've been moving. We also set up a giant pool in the backyard that dictates that if the kids are outside I kind of have to be watching them. Steven threatened them with the loss of anything that might ever cause them to smile again if they so much as dip a toe in that pool when nobody is outside, but in the moment kids don't care about what they might lose later, especially faced with a giant backyard pool. I am blaming the supervisory needs of the backyard for not getting any housework done. That, and the park. And swim day. And having to keep up with all the other moms who show up at the school anytime any sort of event happens and make the children of moms who don't

Remember the other day when I said that Jordan would be up a tree in her dress by the end of the day? This is where I found her during Mitchell's soccer game,  Before snapping a couple of pictures, And telling her to get the heck out of that tree with her pretty dress on. Do I know my kid or what?

There are only five days until my third Half Marathon. My furthest long run so far has been 10.7 miles. My longest run should  have been 12 miles, but due to some running gear issues, it was not. Last weekend I was scheduled to run 12 miles. I dragged my feet on Saturday and didn't go. I planned to set my alarm for 6 o'clock on Sunday  morning and go, but I stayed up past ten on Saturday and convinced myself that I should probably just sleep until I woke up on my own and then go. Then I lazed around all morning and ate pancakes until about noon when I finally laced up and hit the pavement. A couple of miles in I felt some discomfort in the arch of my left foot. I actually thought it was a sliver or something in my sock, or in the inside of my shoe and that at mile three I'd stop and figure out what it was. I sat on the bench, took my shoe off and searched my shoe and my sock for the offending foreign object. There was nothing there. I rubbed the inside of my shoe and wo

Hey remember that time a week and a half ago when Jordan finally confessed that she lost her second pair of running shoes and left the only pair of shoes she had at school and we didn't let her play soccer because a child cannot (no matter how much she insists she can) play soccer in flip flops? And remember how I said "I am NOT buying more shoes 18 days from the end of the school year?" Well, technically I didn't buy her new shoes, although last week when she burst into tears as we were getting ready to leave for soccer because she had again left her shoes at school I may have allowed Steven to buy her new shoes so she wouldn't miss soccer yet again so close to the end of the soccer season. Guess what happened yesterday. We were getting ready for soccer, and surprise surprise, who starts crying hysterically because she had left both pairs of shoes at school. You read that correctly. I was so not impressed. I may have yelled at her in somewhat less t

This morning Jordan decides to wear a dress. She comes out of her room asking me to button and tie it, looking all cute in her white and purple flowery dress, puffy with layers of crinolin. I then braid her hair and get her all ready for the day.  Fast forward fifteen minutes to when it's time to leave. Jordan comes to the door and puts on a pair of striped socks and her new jet black Monster High running shoes (more on that later).  I may have laughed. "Oh Jordan."  "What?" "Nothing." I manage to chase everyone to the van, retrieve the last of my stuff, and then head out to buckle up Elliot and leave. Jordan is looking as stormy as can be.  "What's the matter?" I ask.  "I look horrible," she says, sitting there with her pretty puffy dress and her braided blond hair.   "Nah, you look adorable!" I exclaim, smiling because it is pretty funny.  "Yeah," she pouts, "but I'm wearing a white dress and black

Jordan is annoyed (to say the least) because I told her that due to there only being 18 more days of school, her shoes will now be her indoor AND outdoor shoes. This means that she can wear them in the morning, and all day at school, and if it's wet or raining she can wear her rubber boots and carry her shoes to school with her, but that her shoes WILL come home at the end of the day, so that no matter where she is, she will have shoes. I can't wait to see the faces she makes at me when she is 16, since she has already mastered the teenage Stare of Annoyance . She is seven. The biggest problem? She can't wear flip flops. Oh well. Maybe if she didn't try so hard to lose things at school she could wear flip flops, and still have two pairs of shoes. Each time I am in the school I glance through the lost and found, and about half the time (no exaggeration) I pull out her hoodies and sweaters. The kid was born to lose things. If any other kid needs a sweater, all she h

Sometimes my life is like a bad sitcom. I'm not even kidding. Remember the sitcoms where the situations were so over exaggerated that they weren't the least bit believable? I know. Ever watch Crash Test Mommy? It's really like that sometimes. You think that there's no way that someone could be so frazzled with a houseful of kids, and then have a contractor show up out of nowhere to paint a room. I bet it happens all the time. I remember watching an episode of Full House once where the two uncles were left alone with the kids for the first time, and when Danny comes back in there are clothes, bibs and receiving blankets tossed all about the living room and Joey and Jesse are sitting there, exhausted, with baby Michelle. Let's pretend that I had to look up this reference, and that I don't just know this stuff. Danny comes in, and can't believe his eyes. After all, how can two grown men not look after one baby without this kind of mess. Jesse stands u