tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25209421444591165442024-03-14T03:51:02.034-07:00The (Momma) Game of LifeReady...Set...GO!!!Green Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15763852514478123635noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2520942144459116544.post-50218666378065209152013-02-19T19:36:00.001-08:002013-02-20T20:12:24.713-08:00Green Girl Officially Turns 1!Green Girl is officially one year old!<br />
<br />
There was no question in my mind about what to get her for her birthday - a baby doll.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Bedtime Baby® Doll Image" height="320" src="http://www.littlemommy.com/en-us/_img/products_large/bedtime-baby-doll.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="234" /></td></tr>
<tr align="center"><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #999999;">Mattel Little Mommy Infant Doll</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
Originally I wasn't planning on getting her something so 'sexist.' I have nothing against the different roles of the sexes. In fact I think it is very important to understand that males and females are NOT THE SAME. People who refuse to acknowledge that their child isn't actually gender neutral drive me crazy. That is a different blogpost. Anyway, I didn't want to decide for Green Girl that she wanted a dolly just because I wanted her to have one.<br />
<br />
But she decided for me. Green Girl loves baby dolls. She sees one and she coos. She kisses it. She hugs it. She cradles and pats it. She carries it around and sings to it. She learned none of these skills from Green Boy. I would like to flatter myself and think that she has picked it up due to my mothering skills, but she isn't that smart. It must be some innate mothering instinct. It is adorable. :-)<br />
<br />
However, Green Boy does have some influence on Green Girl's mothering skills. After Green Girl has cooed and loved her baby for a few minutes, she plants it face down on the ground and starts driving it around the floor like it is a Monster Truck. Complete with the "vroom VROOM VROOOOOOOOOOOM" that Green Boy uses when he is putting on Monster Truck freestyle competitions for our entertainment.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVwmUwvNvfh6QVFYRYzzjSU56g_SllT6fbU3bCdxPwir4IUroDq6AMeObBSj4FOJbEjrLaXRkytNqCnFVkVO30KYoA9Gx4lRn33479dWJxZGDuWI_NZvBgNEWHQOIFDQHfDCSgEgcqdX4/s1600/DSC_0617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVwmUwvNvfh6QVFYRYzzjSU56g_SllT6fbU3bCdxPwir4IUroDq6AMeObBSj4FOJbEjrLaXRkytNqCnFVkVO30KYoA9Gx4lRn33479dWJxZGDuWI_NZvBgNEWHQOIFDQHfDCSgEgcqdX4/s320/DSC_0617.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Graaaaaaaaaaaave Diggerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I suppose this could be her attempt to make her baby doll gender neutral? <br />
<br />
Well played, Green Girl. Well played.Green Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15763852514478123635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2520942144459116544.post-65510084066630971542013-02-18T20:24:00.000-08:002013-02-20T20:15:08.934-08:00Snuggly Parts<b>Conversation while putting Green Boy to bed:</b><br />
<br />
Green Momma: <span style="color: #274e13;">I love you Green Boy! Good night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite!</span><br />
<br />
Green Boy: <span style="color: #38761d;">No Momma! You have to touch me with your snuggly parts first! :-(</span><br />
<br />
Green Momma (fearing an inappropriate anatomy discussion): <span style="color: #274e13;">My snuggly parts? Which parts of Momma are her 'snuggly parts?' <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>...cringe cringe cringe...</i></span></span><br />
<br />
Green Boy: <span style="color: #38761d;"> Your arms.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;">H<span style="font-size: small;">ooray for all</span> mommas and their snuggly parts!</span></span> </span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="MotherEmbracingherSon" border="0" class="slide" src="http://life.familyeducation.com/images/Mother_Hug_Son_H.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr align="right"><td class="tr-caption"><span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #666666;">familyeducation.com</span></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: lime;"> </span>Green Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15763852514478123635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2520942144459116544.post-36097313698376691872013-02-10T20:56:00.003-08:002013-02-10T23:41:31.958-08:00Diet Soda Cessation Update - #2Back again for another update on my quest to stop drinking diet soda.<br />
<br />
Sigh.<br />
<br />
Green Girl now loudly exhales through her mouth after taking a drink of any beverage. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!," she says with pride and joy. I am not sure if she learned that from me or Green Boy, but it is not good. Poop.<br />
<br />
However, I have made a small breakthrough in my progress. I posted on my Facebook wall about my need to curtail diet soda related obsessions and I had several co-workers echo my sentiments. It doesn't help that there is a fridge full of carbonated beverages free for the taking at my place of employment (not complaining - merely stating a fact). A fellow diet soda aficionado and I lamented that as long as free soda was there, it was just too hard to quit. So I happily consumed multiple cans of free soda a day, feeling that I was at least in good company.<br />
<br />
A week later, this very same co-worker and I were chatting in the kitchen and diet soda came up; partially because of my facebook wall post and partially because it was 9:30am and I was already on my second can of the day (at least this one was caffeine free). However, she pointed out that since her client had gotten all up in her business last week and publicly lectured her about the dangers of diet soda that she just hasn't been able to bring herself to drink it.<br />
<br />
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!?!?!?!<br />
<br />
Apparently she says that public ridicule and shaming are what worked for her. Go figure.<br />
<br />
"Nope, not me," I thought. That is just silly.<br />
<br />
And yet...on my third can of diet soda that day I hid it as I walked past her desk. I. hid. it. ???? I was shocked at my behavior. Why was I suddenly embarrassed? I thought public ridicule had no affect on me, though obviously I was wrong. <br />
<br />
Instead of feeling sad or mad or guilty, I felt a little glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could kick this horrible habit.<br />
<br />
And then I drank a bottle of water. :-)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt=" water treatment water filtration water crisis water conservation Net Impact fiji water clean water Bottled Water Adam Werbach " class="alignleft size-full wp-image-19055" height="349" src="http://www.triplepundit.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/bottled-water.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="bottled-water" width="273" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh yeah!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<br />Green Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15763852514478123635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2520942144459116544.post-76421599480017608702013-01-31T22:02:00.001-08:002013-02-13T12:11:04.611-08:00Looking Back - The Fabric Store Incident<span style="color: #666666;"><i>Long ago in a galaxy far far away (...or two years ago when my only child was Green Boy)...</i></span><br />
<br />
Two year old Green Boy and I went to the local fabric store to purchase Halloween costume supplies. My very good friend, Turquoise, was going to be a Pink Flamingo. I offered to make her costume mimicking some pictures I had found on Etsy:<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Pink Flamingo Burlesque Costume Las Vegas Showgirl custom Made costume 4U" height="320" src="http://img1.etsystatic.com/000/0/6001839/il_570xN.261336877.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="230" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Idea courtesy of <span class="shopname wrap ">sajeeladesign (Etsy seller of gorgeous costumes!)</span>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
In case you were wondering, Turquoise is the epitome of female beauty. She can totally pull this off. I had a lot of "saleswoman reassuring" ahead that I was not the one attempting to wear what I was making. I would look like a cow in this costume.</div>
<br />
It was my first trip to the fabric store in a while, and this particular store is a crafter's dream. It is an enormous warehouse space chock-full of everything one could want if they were into creative textile-ing. Unfortunately, little boys are not often crafters, at least not the type that are impressed by the magnitude of selection available to them at "Crafters World" (pseudonym).<br />
<br />
I needed some lace applique and a rhinestoney-broach-like thing that were kept behind a counter. I had a cart and Green Boy had been placed in it and was threatened with all sorts of dreadful scenarios if he was so bold as to leave it.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="http://marvellousmoandme.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/boy-shopping-cart.jpg" class="decoded" height="320" src="http://marvellousmoandme.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/boy-shopping-cart.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="262" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">accurate representation of Green Boy in the cart...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Unfortunately, the employees were MIA. I waited at the lace counter for about 15 minutes without seeing anyone. I was able to entertain myself among the sequins, lace, rhinestones, feathers, tulle, fishnet and satin but Green Boy was growing impatient. Finally...FINALLY...an employee was able to help me. Foolishly thinking that Green Boy was actually impressed by my previous threats, I devoted a mere moment's worth of attention to the woman offering to help me find what I needed.<br />
<br />
Then it happened.<br />
<br />
Green Boy was not in the cart.<br />
<br />
In a panic I looked frantically around the store. It is difficult to find a toddler amongst racks and racks of fabric bolts. Finally I saw him! But it was too late. :-(<br />
<br />
Green Boy had accosted someone's mobility scooter. He was driving it. Away from me. Very quickly.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="Man builds world's fastest mobility scooter" height="288" src="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01738/Colin-Furze_1738223c.jpg" width="460" /> </div>
<br />
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKKK!!!!!<br />
<br />
Luckily, I did not scream "Fuck!" I did scream, "No Green Boy! NOOOOOO!!!! STOP STOP STOP!!!" as I sprinted after him. This did absolutely no good, except to draw everyone's attention. I don't think he understood what propelled it forward, much less what would make it stop.<br />
<br />
The scooter hit a steel door and ricocheted off to the side. I arrived on the scene split seconds later, prepared to read Green Boy the riot act. When I saw the complete terror in his eyes I was only able to scoop him up and give him a hug. He sobbed and sobbed. I tried to soothe and reprimand at the same time - an awkward combination. The sales woman who was helping me had completely disappeared. Another one heard the ruckus and came to see what the problem was. I unintelligibly said something about being 'very sorry' and 'whose scooter was this?' and 'ohmygodwhatcanidotomakeitbetter!!!' She gave me a look that said "you crazy fool, just control your damn kid" and disappeared.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="http://lpease.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/mothers-disapproving-241x300.jpg" class="decoded" src="http://lpease.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/mothers-disapproving-241x300.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Control your damn kid!!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Green Boy maintained a meek disposition for about three minutes and then was back to his original ancy behavior. I stayed just long enough to purchase the supplies and left the store in complete and utter parenting shame.<br />
<br />
Later, I purchased a leash for Green Boy so this would never happen again.<br />
<br />
Fingers crossed. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="320" id="irc_mi" src="http://gandt.blogs.brynmawr.edu/files/2009/03/childleashwoman.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Recognize.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />Green Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15763852514478123635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2520942144459116544.post-13991693356413734452013-01-29T23:12:00.002-08:002013-02-13T12:13:58.575-08:00Shoe ObsessionI am obsessed with shoes. Tall shoes. I love to be 6'+ tall. This is accomplished by my collection of skyscraper heels. Nothing lifts my spirits quite like a new pair of beautiful, excessively tall heels in a rich color or texture. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh happiness! :-)<br />
<br />
Before children I had many pairs of gorgeous shoes. Shoes were <i>my thing</i>. Now? Let's just say that I have kids instead of shoes.<br />
<br />
I needed a beautiful pair of shoes today. <u>NEEDED</u> them. I was in a mood. A MOOD, I tell you. I'll skip to the end of this story and let you know that I did not receive a beautiful pair of shoes and I am still in a terrible mood. But they say blogging is cheaper than therapy, so here goes...<br />
<br />
(BTW this is probably the most boring blog post of all time. Continue reading at your own risk - exceedingly tedious mommy rant ahead.)<br />
<br />
Work was typical. I am usually more equipped to deal with people who will not take responsibility for their actions, but Green Girl is teething and has woken up every two hours for the last four nights. It is torture. My defenses against work politics are not what they should be. That started my "mood from hell." It didn't help that I skipped lunch. It didn't help that a realtor showed my house today, but didn't write an offer. It also didn't help that Green Papa called me at 5pm to let me know that he wouldn't be home until 7pm - meaning he was going to miss helping with dinner/bed time routines. He is not traveling (for once) and I was really relying on him to help this evening. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! In addition, I found out when I picked up Green Boy from preschool that he needed a raincoat for his zoo field trip tomorrow. Not a big deal, I will buy one. I live in Oregon, it rains year round here, it is January, stores must be chock full of raincoats, right?<br />
<br />
Wrong.<br />
<br />
After dinner, I drug my sorry ass to three stores and nary a one had a raincoat. The lady at Babies R Us acted like I was bat shit crazy for thinking that they would carry a <i>raincoat</i> in <i>January</i>. "Raincoats are spring/summer items, duh! Not fall/winter ones!!!," she mockingly announced to everyone within earshot. Awesome customer service, Babies R Us. Truly spectacular. All I could do, after a comment like that, was stare at her until she awkwardly moved out of sight down a different aisle. Did I mention I was wearing all black and a scowl that would rival Grumpy Cat? 'Bat shit crazy' may be fairly accurate. The employees at Old Navy had the decency to act like they thought raincoats were a common request this time of year, and they even pretended to be puzzled that they had none in stock. Target had a one size fits all paper-thin rain poncho, which is what Green Boy will be wearing tomorrow over his winter coat. I cut the bottom off so that he won't trip on it and it looks fucking AWESOME. Not at all like a garbage bag with a hole for his head. :-/ <br />
<br />
I decreed, before I went shopping, that Green Boy was to be in bed upon my return or there would be <b>no zoo trip</b>. He was technically in bed when I got home. But now, two hours later, he is bouncing off his room walls. I loudly fake-called his preschool teacher to tell her that I wasn't letting him go to the zoo unless he fell asleep in five minutes. So far that tactic has been largely ineffective. I have chosen to ignore the noises coming from his room, that way I don't have to eat crow tomorrow when I allow him to go to the zoo since I have no other daycare options. The little turd has probably figured that out.<br />
<br />
I am on my 64th ounce of diet soda for the day. Quitting soda - not going so well. Shit.<br />
<br />
At this point, my hope is that my crankiness and despair will melt away during one of my two hour sleep cycles and I will awake refreshed. Ha. Ha. Maybe if I wear a sweet pair of heels tomorrow will be a brighter day?<br />
<br />
That sounds about right. :-)<br />
<br />
#firstworldproblemsGreen Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15763852514478123635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2520942144459116544.post-85090711545997984222013-01-27T20:28:00.002-08:002013-02-13T12:14:37.799-08:00Indigo Tante on her wedding planning...<span style="color: purple;">"I am going to do all of that traditional wedding stuff that isn't fucking weird. Fucking weird things that I plan to avoid? The money dance. Totally fucking weird. Traditional, but not insane? Garter, father/daughter dance, and bouquet toss." - Indigo Tante</span><br />
<br />
Yes - my sister curses like a sailor. How I love her!<br />
<br />
(In another lifetime, i.e. pre-Green children, she lived with Green Papa and I. Indigo Tante had just finished college and was looking for jobs. Green Papa was constantly traveling for work. It was like being back in school with the world's most awesome roommate.)<br />
<br />
The obscene phrases she can string together really get magical at times. She now lives in a far away state so my exposure to her effervescent linguistics is limited to the occasional phone conversation. The one and only positive of this situation is that Green Boy is not privy to her special blend of the language arts, and therefore I don't have to be the mom with the creative, but inappropriate, cursing preschooler. I am not nearly as profane as Indigo Tante, so Green Boy has a chance at to develop some civil communication skills. ;-)Green Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15763852514478123635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2520942144459116544.post-37767846808888528932013-01-26T20:45:00.000-08:002013-01-27T20:48:47.899-08:00Birthday Party InviteMy brother (hereafter known to this blog as Blue Uncle) invited us to his son's (Blue Boy) birthday party with the following email:<br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;">"Blue Boy turns 3 on 1/10 and we would like to invite you to his Birthday
Party Saturday 1/13 at our home. Brunch at noon or thereabouts. Please
don't bring any presents unless you plan on accepting something in
exchange (which I get to pick). Sorry for the late notice, but the
boss was out traveling the world while I slaved away at home." - Blue Uncle</span><br />
<span class="yiv2016941176HOEnZb"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="yiv2016941176HOEnZb">Interpretation:</span><br />
<ul>
<li>"Please
don't bring any presents unless you plan on accepting something in
exchange (which I get to pick)" means that if you show up with a present you will leave with one of the Blue family's dogs. He is serious. We didn't bring a present.</li>
<li><span class="yiv2016941176HOEnZb">Blue Tante was at her uncle's funeral over the weekend prior to this party, during which time Blue Uncle dropped the rest of the Blue family off at grandma and grandpa's house. If this is the dad equivalent of "slaving away" I want to be a dad.<br />
</span></li>
</ul>
-------------------------------------------------- <br />
<br />
Shortly thereafter Blue Uncle realized that he had invited people to a birthday party on an nonexistent day. We then received the following email:<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">"So it would appear that I am not too bright and Saturday 1/13 doesn't
really exist....What I meant to say is Sunday the 13th....If you show up
Saturday you can help me clean my house." - Blue Uncle </span><br />
<br />
Interpretation:<br />
<ul>
<li>If you are coming on Saturday, you will be cleaning the Blue family's house. He was serious. We arrived on Sunday.</li>
</ul>
Green Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15763852514478123635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2520942144459116544.post-60909248570805379372013-01-22T19:47:00.002-08:002013-01-22T19:54:20.782-08:00Diet Soda Cessation Update #1My first week attempting to quit drinking diet soda is an <u>utter <b>fucking</b> failure</u>.<br />
<br />
The problem is that I love to drink it. I mean, "I do want to quit for my health and BLAH BLAH BLAH," but actually...<b>I don't want to quit at all</b>. <br />
<br />
I believe we call this the denial stage? <br />
<br />
Diet soda is my little treat to myself. Except that I drink it all damn day, so I should likely substitute the word 'little' with 'GINORMOUS'. <br />
<br />
This past week I decided that until I find a suitable replacement beverage, there was no point in even trying to quit. How's that for procrastination? So, instead of working to make myself a healthier person, I have been cataloging all of the things I love about diet soda and mocking all possible replacements.<br />
<br />
Why I love diet soda:<br />
<ol>
<li>It has bubbles. Bubbles = refreshing! Bubbles = amazeballs! I hate to drink bubble-less beverages. :-(</li>
<li>It is not completely flavorless, nor does it taste like ass.</li>
<li>It is very easy to obtain. One can buy their particular brand of poison pretty much anywhere they please. It is also relatively cheap.</li>
<li>It has caffeine. This is extremely important. Last night I worked until 3:30am. Green Girl woke me up for the day at 7am, after she had already interrupted everyone's sleep at 4am and 5:30am to eat and/or fuss for her pacifier. I cannot remember the last time that I actually slept all the way through the night (and, yes, I am using that aggravating pediatric yardstick of 6 hours of consecutive sleep = sleeping through the night).</li>
<li>Zero calories. For someone who is always on a diet, 'nuff said.</li>
</ol>
I am not saying that the above list is without major flaws. In fact, it is chock full of flawed logic. That is probably why addicts do dumb things like slowly kill themselves by filling up their bodies with chemicals - we can convince ourselves of anything to feed the need.<br />
<br />
On to mocking the replacement beverages!<br />
<ol>
<li><b>Milk</b> - Yuck. No bubbles. Relatively high in calories. No caffeine. Besides, it has too much calcium to be an appropriate replacement. If it sucked calcium out of ones body - then it could be in the running.</li>
<li><b>Tea</b> - Eh. No bubbles. Warm, crappy taste unless you add a ton of fake sweeteners (no calorie) or real sugar (high calorie). I have always hated the flavor of iced tea, so drinking it cold is entirely out of the question. </li>
<li><b>Coffee</b> - Puke. No bubbles. Warm, tastes like ass unless you fill it full of calorie laden additives. </li>
<li><b>Sparkling water</b> - Hmmmm? Quite possibly the best alternative to diet soda but very expensive and it tastes kind of awful. I am intrigued by the thought of adding peppermint oil to it, but that won't infuse it with caffeine or reduce it's price. </li>
<li><b>Water</b> - so exceedingly BLAH that I am going to fall asleep writing about it...</li>
</ol>
Now that I have finished refuting the qualities of all replacement beverages, aka "acting like a spoiled brat", I am going to have to get off my high horse and chose one, or more, of them to drink. Green Girl watched me consume a bottle of diet soda today with a look in her sweet little eyes that told me she was already practically an addict based solely on the example I was setting for her. Shit. It broke my heart. :-( I need to be a better role model.<br />
<br />
I hate being a responsible adult.Green Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15763852514478123635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2520942144459116544.post-85201950575243935422013-01-17T22:30:00.000-08:002013-01-19T17:56:59.876-08:00MEMOTO: Green Momma<br />
FROM: The Parenting Authority<br />
DATE: January 17, 2013<br />
SUBJECT: G-rated Cursing<br />
<br />
It has come to our attention that, in an attempt to avoid traditional curse words, you have begun to use every day terminology with R-rated emphasis.<br />
<br />
This is only effective and appropriate if you completely replace the expletives with acceptable language. For example, "Hoover Dam" may be considered a creative replacement for "Damn." Your toddler will not understand the original intent. If he/she repeats this phrase, it doubtful that they will be harshly punished for doing so.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, "Hoover FUCKING Dam!" is neither appropriate nor repeatable. It elevates an otherwise tame expletive to the highest level of inappropriate. <br />
<br />
If you continue to use this phrase in mixed company, expect it to emerge from your child's mouth at the most inopportune moment. This will be harsher than any punishment we could bestow.<br />
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Proceed with caution.<br />
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Thank you,<br />
Holier Than Thou <br />
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<br />Green Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15763852514478123635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2520942144459116544.post-55176516720979939392013-01-17T22:09:00.001-08:002013-01-20T15:13:19.245-08:00Indigo Tante's Wedding<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Indigo Tante, my only sister, is getting MARRIED! I am very happy for her and Indigo fiance and cannot wait to perform my sisterly duties as Matron of Honor. :-)<br />
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Indigo Tante has not been planning her wedding since birth. She isn't even planning her wedding <i>now</i> and she is getting married this summer. Apparently, she is one of those crazy people more concerned about the actual marriage then the wedding day. FREAK!<br />
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While actively avoiding wedding planning herself, Indigo Tante isn't averse to my multiple Pinterest Boards dedicated to her special day. I am living vicariously through her because Pinterest, and all its magic, was only a 'twinkle in the sky' nine years ago when Green Papa and I got married. There are many wonderful, special, heartfelt wedding ideas cataloged by the masses on Pinterest. These are not some of them...<br />
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Indigo Tante said she would have to be drunk to pose for the following picture. I thought it was funny. She said "no fucking way."</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1hE3b73VT4er9SUp_MSEgBPorPIUoehWUnYnJzpeqXmlOUudIi-S-XE64Ow4JJ4t-t3g-Bk6lMiBt0UikO2GXpipjy_E3oUrhnhAgDHB8miFLFS-rO4I_rbiukUvAvXjre1jhf0ftB0/s1600/save+the+date.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1hE3b73VT4er9SUp_MSEgBPorPIUoehWUnYnJzpeqXmlOUudIi-S-XE64Ow4JJ4t-t3g-Bk6lMiBt0UikO2GXpipjy_E3oUrhnhAgDHB8miFLFS-rO4I_rbiukUvAvXjre1jhf0ftB0/s320/save+the+date.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Totally awesome Save the Date idea from lydianextstep! </td></tr>
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Indigo Tante was also not impressed with this photo idea.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="" data-src="http://i.imgur.com/oM7OH.jpg" src="http://i.imgur.com/oM7OH.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tall bride, but where is the groom? imgur.com</td></tr>
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I wanted this card as a memento. I was told to buy it for myself. :-(</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefGcFq0AlYIrku_9Iffp_Pwrs8QwM6yLmmHMoFlXvideiVnBrfn9FsTKau3NmPb0acSF2k0hsTuQ7Igb6uHYYw4iVW_HZK64PDPL1a7UbXSLUbsHZ2Pcd9JOXzfZG4MZmyZdjtW72s5o/s1600/nunez_024$!x600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefGcFq0AlYIrku_9Iffp_Pwrs8QwM6yLmmHMoFlXvideiVnBrfn9FsTKau3NmPb0acSF2k0hsTuQ7Igb6uHYYw4iVW_HZK64PDPL1a7UbXSLUbsHZ2Pcd9JOXzfZG4MZmyZdjtW72s5o/s320/nunez_024$!x600.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Card from stylemepretty.com</td></tr>
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An impressive compromise...or just a really ugly cake???<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="shockleys sweet shoppe half and half wedding cake" src="http://www.bridalguide.com/sites/default/files/article-images/PHOTO-OF-THE-DAY/shockleys-sweet-shoppe-half-and-half-cake.jpg" style="border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 860px; margin: 10px auto; width: 500px;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Cake by <a href="http://www.shockleyssweetshoppe.blogspot.com/">Shockley's Sweet Shoppe</a></b></td></tr>
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No. And why?</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Bon Bon - MADE TO ORDER" class="main" itemprop="image" src="http://images.folksy.com/aXRlbXMvNDY0Ny8yMDEyMDYxNy8zNDMyNTYxNTAy-N/main" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bon Bon from folksy.com</td></tr>
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Green Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15763852514478123635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2520942144459116544.post-47953737559551957512013-01-14T22:44:00.003-08:002013-01-27T20:53:03.766-08:00Diet Soda AddictionI love diet soda. I love it I love it I love it!!! Too much. Way too much. I would blog how many ounces of this "liquid gold beverage of ultimate yumminess" that I drink in one day...but that would be embarrassing. Suffice it to say, I have a problem. We can leave it at that.<br />
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Or we could, until I had kids and the following conversation occurred last week:<br />
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Green Boy, Green Girl and I are driving home from work/school. It is dark. I am exhausted. McDonalds has 32 ounce sodas for $1. Obviously we are making a McDonald's pit stop on the way home. (Obviously.)<br />
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<span style="color: #93c47d;">Green Boy: Momma, please don't drink diet soda anymore. Momma, PLEASE don't drink diet soda anymore. MOMMA, PLEASE DON'T DRINK DIET SOOOOOOOOOODAAAA ANYMORE!!!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;">Green Momma: Green Boy, if Momma doesn't drink it she will fall asleep driving home.</span><br />
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(pause)<br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;">Green Momma: Why don't you want me to drink diet soda? (I cringe and brace for the answer - my guilty conscience knows this isn't going to be good.)</span><br />
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<span style="color: #93c47d;">Green Boy: <b>I don't want you to go to heaven yet.</b></span><br />
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Wow. Crap. Big sad face. <br />
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I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't that.<br />
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Long story short...healthy and unhealthy eating habits had been discussed at Green Boy's school that day. Diet soda was given as an example of an unhealthy eating habit. Green Boy regaled his classmates and teachers with information on exactly how much diet soda his mommy drinks and how often she drinks it. Everyone was shocked. He knew details I didn't even consciously recognize. I do now. Sigh.<br />
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And thus begins yet another attempt at cutting the most delicious beverage in the world from my life. I recognize the problem, but I am allowing myself to be in denial. Just for a few more days. :-)Green Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15763852514478123635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2520942144459116544.post-58919894208636074242013-01-14T19:22:00.000-08:002013-01-22T19:51:28.254-08:00Welcome To My BlogWelcome to my blog!<br />
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I am a thirty "something" mother to two adventurous and active kids - Green Boy and Green Girl. Besides being a Momma, I work as an accountant. I grew up in a rural area with a large family - 5 siblings - so I had to learn to share and to work for the things that I want. I am very thankful to my parents for both of those skills. I love to dance. I love to laugh. I am extremely stubborn and fairly opinionated. This blog may contain adult language. I do not apologize for that.<br />
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Green Boy (4 yrs old) and Green Girl (1 yr old) are the loves of my life! <span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;">Odd how little people come along and change everything. Five years ago my childless self would never have believed half of the things I am doing now...or that those are the very things that make me the happiest.</span><u><br /></u></span><br />
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My husband, Green Papa, travels for work. A lot. He is on the road 80% of the time. This leaves me to run the household, as well as work, and strive to keep my sanity. Last week I left the house wearing mismatched shoes. Shit happens.<br />
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A lot is going on in 2013 for this Green Momma:<br />
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<li>My only sister, Indigo Tante (Tante is German for "Aunt"), is getting married.</li>
<li>Green Papa and I put our house on the market. Living in a staged house with two kids is totally awesome and I highly recommend it. :-/ We currently live near the ghetto. Green Boy and Green Girl <b>do not</b> get to go to inner city schools. At the rate this is going <i>maybe</i> our house will sell by the time Green Boy is in fifth grade. One can only hope.</li>
<li>Green Girl cannot digest cow's milk protein so she and I are on a dairy free diet.</li>
<li>Green Boy outed my severe diet soda addiction. It has reached epic proportions if he is noticing at all (he inherited Green Papa's attention span). I hope to end this addiction in 2013 once and for all. </li>
<li>I have made several New Year's Resolutions:</li>
<ul>
<li>Become a better photographer.</li>
<li>Eat healthier. a.k.a. "quit eating meals delivered through my car window"...a.k.a. "Cook more DAMN IT!"</li>
<li>Read books. </li>
<li>Take better care of myself. Take a few guilt-free minutes, once a week, to do something just for me.</li>
<li>Start a blog.</li>
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Expect me to blog about the above, and whatever else this "Game of Life" throws my way. Green Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15763852514478123635noreply@blogger.com0