It's not sexy...it's animal

Momma's Log August  27 (Kwrp)

A couple weeks ago Super Rock Star and I had a little extra coin and decided to do some clothes shopping at the outlet mall in Castle Rock.  We had Tweedledee and Tweedledum in tow, so we knew it was going to be a stellar day (Not really. They hate shopping unless we're looking for toys--which is hardly ever--so they each make it their life mission to make sure we hate it too.)

Anyway, I found myself in the GAP outlet store where a pair of denim shorts caught my eye. They were on sale for a price that was hard to pass up.  I didn't really pay much attention to them other than they were my size and they were cheap.  So they came home with me.  When we got home, I took them out of the bag and noticed some writing on the inside waste band:

"SEXY BOYFRIEND SHORT"

Wow! They didn't appear all that sexy to me, but hey, advertising doesn't lie right?.  Let's pop these babies on so I can strut my stuff.  Now, folks, I'm not always the best judge of what is sexy and what is not.  I tend to be a little self-deprecating when it comes to assessing myself, but I think we can all be real honest and say these shorts are NOT sexy.

Not even a little.  It's o.k. Say it out loud to yourself right now.  Whisper it if you need to... it won't hurt my feelings.  "Not sexy."  Mom jeans are sexier than these. Just to be sure, I asked Super Rock Star for his honest opinion.  Howling laughter was not what I anticipated, but it definitely confirmed what I already suspected. I even tried to do the "movie star" pose in them and Nopety nope nope..still not working.

But, it got me to thinking about that whole word "sexy."  Why did GAP feel like they had to put that word on an item of clothing that so obviously was not?  Judging by the enormous stack of them at the store, I'm guessing it was a desperate attempt to sell some not-so-special shorts.  I, apparently, was one of the few takers.  But, here's the deal: I bought them without knowing they said that, so I already had made the purchase.  It's the expectation that came from seeing that word later that led to disappointment.  I would have purchased the shorts no matter what, but the word "Sexy" intrigued me.  It was like a magic wand promising to wave away the doldrums of my ordinary self and causing to expect more if I put on this article of cheap clothing.   Is this what it's come to?  Am I really that gullible?  GAP, you lied.  Maybe you could argue that the ones in size 0 on a stick thin, 6-foot tall supermodel would be sexy.  But, most would tell you that these rare creatures could be clothed in garbage bags full of garbage and make it look appealing.  My favorite example of this has been the blog post going around where "every day women" (as opposed to the fake robot ones) put on swimming suits and strike poses that the Victoria's Secret models wore in their swimsuit addition.  If you missed it here it is.

Victoria's Secret is notorious for trying to make things look sexier than they are.  A few years ago Beth Moore wrote a blog post about how she came unglued with them in one of their stores for peddling "Sexy Gum."  Yeah,  apparently they sold gum and called it Sexy.  Really? Gum is seriously one of the least sexy items on this planet.  Her stance was "why are they trying to bring sex into every aspect of common everyday items?" Preach it Beth! But, unless you consider looking like a cow chewing its cud sexy, I think we can safely call "sexy gum" another advertising lie.  

So, be on the look out my fair citizens.  Consider this your public service announcement.  Just because something says it's sexy does not mean it is. You have been warned.

P.S. Sherri Koch is the big winner of the flashdrive from last weeks drawing!  Congratulations Sherri!  Stay organized! Ha!

The School Paperwork Tidal Wave

Momma's Log August 18, 2015 (Kwrp)

Back to school time is in full swing in our lil ole homestead. I have the house all to myself so I've been cleaning, organizing and being ever so productive. Bling! (this is to show the sparkly part of my gleaming smile) OK. so maybe there has been a nap or two involved, some extended lounging in the kiddie pool (hey, I have to, it's my job to make sure that bugs don't take up permanent residence in it), and staring off into space for inordinate amounts of time, drool sliding out of the corner of my mouth. The boys, on the other hand, have been seeing to it that they add to my already accumulating list of things to do (see previous post). In two weeks this is already the fruits of their young school life labor.

Holy Cow! Does this seem a little excessive to anyone else?  I mean didn't we all agree a few years ago that we needed to use less paper, save trees, things like that? I've heard that doing work on computers has become all the rage for most folks, but no sirree, not in school.  In elementary you hand write everything and allow your zealous-with-a-paper-and-pen six-year-old make drawing after drawing of the same. thing. Over and over again during their "free time" (what the heck is that? --giving a six-year-old free time is just plain scary). Needless to say the pile can get out of hand pretty fast so in years past I have found some handy dandy ways of dealing with the school paper onslaught that comes in every week.  No I don't have a ritual paper burning every week, but I tell you it gets more and more tempting each year.

My problem is that I am a memory hoarder.  "Hello everyone, my name is Jennifer and I save every tiny little item that has borne any semblance of a mark that my baby's have made."  Hey, you never know, they might become famous some day and this stuff could become $1000  items on eBay.  This is my retirement plan. For now.  Plus, I was damaged and left with childhood scars because, when I was young, my mom would tear through my shared room with my sister every few months with hurricane force and clean out anything that was not well concealed in a stealth-like hiding place.  I called them cleaning terrors and I have been known to have a few of those of my own in my day.  Super Rock Star is still searching for a favorite shirt of his that I'm pretty sure was snatched away in one of my fits of becoming a cleaner and more organized wife.  Sorry Babe.  Anyway, my mom accidentally tossed a box of birthday cards I had been saving for all of my 8 years at the time.  I was devastated, but thanks to time and a good amount of therapy, I'm mostly okay now. Sort of.  But now, like I said, I pretty much save every.tiny. little. thing. I'm sure there's therapy for that too.

My system is pretty simple and works if you save everything like me or if just a few choice things like I probably should. I buy a bunch of these folders when they go on sale for a penny during back-to-school supply sales.

Each month, I select one for each child and write their name, grade, the month and year.
All throughout the month each school day, when the papers come home, I look at them, select some good ones for the refrigerator and the rest go in the folder.  At the end of the month, I clean off the refrigerator and put those in the folders too--otherwise my entire refrigerator, oven, dishwasher and probably my entire house would be wallpapered with the art of my young Picasso's.  I have a file cabinet I keep hidden deep in the recesses of our home in a closet --out of sight out of sight, right?  I put the full files in there at the end of every month.  At the end of the school year, I move those files to a storage box like this one:

Someday I will have to spend an entire year going through and purging these.  Either that or I'll just have a big ole bonfire and light em up---therefore scaring my boys for life and therapy required and the mad cycle continues.  I admit, I need to purge and someday I will.

This is the box I keep all of both Morgan and Grayson's stuff from preschool in.  Crazy.  I know.  Certifiable.  I get it.





 But, just look at the darling necklace Grayson made for me and the adorable Valentine's Day box Morgan created:

So cute I can't stand it.  Baby steps for me.  Baby steps.  I'm down to folders now instead of whole boxes.  It's a process.

So, this is my mad method, my brilliant, solve the world's problems plan--how about you all?  I would love to hear how you handle the tidal wave of papers coming in.  Please share AND  for those who write a response you will be entered into a drawing to win a 16GB flash drive.

I'm pretty sure this would be the smarter and more space efficient way to handle the memories--you know take photos of the favorites and then store them on a data stick.  But, hey, like I said--it's a process.

First Day of School/First Day of my new life

Momma's Log August 4, 2015 (Kwrp)

Today begins a new chapter in my life.  For the past 8 years I have been up to my eyeballs in all things about my boys.  As of 8:00 this morning, I turned both of them over to District 49 here in Colorado Springs to care for, feed, entertain and teach until 3:00pm this afternoon.  Sniffle... Sniffle....Sob!  I'm fine..I'm fine. I'm just a little verklempt.  Talk amongst yourselves for a minute.  Here, I'll give you a topic.  Why don't birds fly upside down?  Discuss...

O.K. Whew!  I'm back now.  It's just that I have had at least one of those little/turned-big boys around me every day now for 8 1/2 years.  This whole full-time school thing is beyond strange.  My house feels eerily quiet, especially after having them both here every. single. day... loud, laughing, arguing, screeching my name solid for the past 2 1/2 months during our summer break.  My home feels like a foreign planet.  I have literally been walking through it for the first time observing things I had never noticed before.  For instance, when did the walls get so stinkin' dirty? Huh? I mean our home is only about 5-years old.  How is it possible that in that short time, my pristine perfectly new  walls look like they would be right at home in a crack house? So many of you have tried to convince me that I will enjoy my freedom, that it will be wonderful and that I can sing and dance and frolic around without any interruptions.  Uh huh.

I'm slowly beginning to realize that I will now be accountable more than ever for how I spend my time.   Everyone that knows me is watching....Why isn't she going back to work?, Is she going to just sit around her house and eat bon bons all day?  Must be nice to have nothing to do all day. Heh, heh... whoo boy!  It took me one micro-second to look at my home through fresh eyes, not overrun with the herd of boy humanity, and I realize exactly what I'm going to be doing.,...Dom dom DOM! House projects..GASP!  I know, I know.  But, I don't see any way around it.  I've gotten by fat, dumb and lucky for these past few years without my hubby, the Super Rock Star, not being too up in arms about the quickly deteriorating state of our home.  He was content that my time was best spent making sure Heckle and Jeckle didn't destroy it and seeing that they were being fed, watered, and exercised regularly.  I'm in a bit of a state of panic right now.  I really had been kind of looking forward to this Re-lax-ation. thing I've heard all the kids buzzing about.  But, now, I need to act quick or this is going to turn into a real bummer of gargantuan proportions.  I mean, not only is the general overall filth of our home coming to the surface, but I've heard some mumblings about repainting the exterior, the fence needs staining, the accumulation in our garage and several closets needs to be dealt with.  It's only a matter of time before his gaze settles on me as the logical one, between the two of us, who should accomplish these tasks. Folks, I don't mean to panic, but seriously, I'm starting to feel light headed... heart palpitations,  I might need to go lie down...in our kiddie pool.  Be back in a sec.

O.K. That helped....a lot!  Feeling pretty mellow...and sunburned.  The thing is that even though I'm feeling pretty weirded out by the overwhelming quiet in our home right now, I'm kind of looking forward to it too.  It's not often that one gets a chance to have uninterupted time-- especially us stay-at-home mom types.  Most of our time is spent listening to detailed accounts of every. single. thought that pops into our precious little cherub's head. And the endless stream of questions that no sane adult would ever ask: "How do giraffes wipe their hineys?", "Why do cars need gas and how come human toots can't be put into cars?" "When I become a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, are you going to make me do chores?" I'm hoping to get to do some creative things like balance our checkbook for the first time in 8 years and grocery shop without the half hour visit to the toy aisle.  I'm thinking I may even enjoy a nap and actually go to sleep without worrying about my stealthy ninjas sneaking around the house.  So, even with the impending dread of house projects on the horizon (dom dom DOM!!!), I think that having some empty spaces in my life might be a little refreshing too.  Who knows, maybe while I'm tackling the mountain size accumulation of projects I might listen to some really cool inspirational podcasts that teach me how to be a better mom, wife, and human being or I can learn a foreign language that I can teach my family when they come home..... Nah!