the Insults Are Complimentary

This evening my friend Amy posted a Facebook update detailing the less than flattering comment one of her children made to her, and it got me thinking about all of the times my children have gone well out of their way to remark upon the shortcomings in my appearance.

Like when Isabelle told me I looked like a zombie.

Or when Sophie compared the dimples in her cheeks to the dimples in my legs.

Or when Isabelle told me my posterior was “old and icky.”

Such angels, really.

It’s no secret that kids can be brutally honest. Which makes it that much less fair that motherhood comes with so many glamorous moments. Who DOESNT want to be surround by tiny little filterless critics when you are most likely to be make-up free/ covered in food (or worse)/ barely dressed (or NOT dressed- way to knock, kids)/ etc? Nothing checks the ego like a kid under 7.

And of course, the unrealistic expectations pushed upon us all by society and the media start ever earlier. Just last week Sophie felt the need to point out my every facial flaw during a commercial for clearasil (hooray for adult acne!), and yesterday a hair color commercial led her to cheerfully count out my every silver strand.

Eye circles, gray hairs, hormonal skin, a saggy belly and a fat ass: there’s nothing my children won’t helpfully remind me of. They could at least have the decency to recognize the role they all play in transforming my current physical state. I can’t wait for the day they figure out that instead of groaning and hiding their eyes they can just stop visiting me in the shower.

ps: I was perusing the Saturday Say What to remind myself of some of these. Good lord my kids were funny!! May I recommend this and this

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Relax Around The Process

This weekend I took a workshop at my studio about yoga assists. The teacher is an absolute genius when it comes to laying the lightest touch on you and completely opening up a pose into heaven- I was totally thrilled to learn from her (and have her demonstrate on me!). The workshop was great and covered the basic how/when/why of assisting as well as some assists to try in some basic poses.

I can’t wait for round two!

Throughout the workshop, the teacher kept using the phrase “relax around the process.” You never want to push a student past where they are ready to go in the moment – definitely good advice if you aren’t interested in being used for injuring someone! But it’s also something I really need to remember in my own journey.

Going through the month-long intensive training was great. It was difficult and intense, but also somewhat easier because it was so completely immersive. All I had to think about in July was yoga. Makes focusing on personal development and strengthening my practice pretty simple if that’s all I’m working on. But since then it has been much more difficult to find a rhythm- and obviously I can’t be 100% yoga all the time anymore!

Immediately after the training ended we went away for a week vacation (have I blogged about that yet?), and immediately after we returned from vacation it was time for the kids to go back to school. So the past fee weeks have been such a whirlwind of changing schedules and trying to regain my equilibrium. Naturally, my focus on yoga has suffered with all of these new distractions. I’ve managed to get to class about 4 times a week (which isn’t shabby!), but it still feels slapdash and unplanned. I don’t have a set schedule of theses classes are the ones I always attend, and Brett has to be home on these nights at a certain time. I’m a creature of habit- I like to have my routine and set schedule. Otherwise it’s too easy to forget things.

Added in to this feeling of being untethered is the pressing sense that I still haven’t completed my certification. I’ve done the training, but there are outside requirements of attending and assisting and observing a certain number of classes that I’m not even close to completing. Which makes me a little bit crazy, because as a procrastinator I know I tend to never complete things, so as a control freak I like to do it all immediately as fast as possible so I don’t have the opportunity to let the procrastinator win.

I’d like to get started on teaching and developing some sort of yoga career, but I don’t feel comfortable doing that without my proper accreditation. And even attending 4-5 classes a week it is going to take me a couple of months before I am officially registered as a yoga teacher, which seems like SUCH a long time (even though it’s not). And my schedule is only going to get busier as the year progresses and dance and soccer and homework really start to kick in.

I guess what I’m saying is my head is not the calmest place to be right now. They say anxiety is worry about the future, and I am definitely on a mental roller-coaster of “when this happens, then this and this can happen” right now. But I’m trying to relax around the process. Developing a life-long yoga practice is not something I can do overnight. By definition. The important part is that I am getting in the studio, and I am ticking off boxes of requirements leading to my certification. Speed is irrelevant. There is a time for everything and everything will manifest in its own time.

Even if I want it to be now.

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Things I Did Wrong At The Store*

*according to Beatrice

- didn’t put her in the cart (fast enough)
-didn’t take her out of the cart (fast enough)
-didn’t let her ride in the car cart (as we were leaving the store)
-didn’t get her a balloon
-didn’t let her pet the flowers as long as she wanted
-didn’t let her run wherever she wanted in the parking lot

With childhood trauma like this, her memoirs are going to be a best-seller for sure. I bet they even make a movie.**

** things I DID let her do:
-get in the cart
-get out of the cart
-ride on the side of the cart
-ride on the front of the cart
-scream at me
-push the big cart
-push the child cart
-hit me in the ankles with the child cart
-walk across the parking lot holding my hand
-touch the bouquets of flowers

I swear, going to the grocery store with one child is harder than taking all four. Never have a two year-old.

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Katy Perry!

Way back in March, when Isabelle’s 8th birthday was approaching, I just wasn’t into the idea of planning yet another formulaic birthday party. I had the idea that instead of throwing a party with a bunch of little girls we don’t particularly care about (and having to at wrangle them all), we could just do something special for Isabelle. I also thought this could be a sneaky way of saving some money,* since parties get so dang expensive!! But what to do?

Go see Katy Perry, of course!!

Unfortunately, the concert wasn’t going to be until August, so it couldn’t be a surprise (um, hey sweetie, we got you a present, but it’s a surprise. And you can’t have it for 5 months. Happy birthday!). So we told her- actually, we gave her the choice between seeing Demi Lovato the week before her actual birthday or waiting for Katy Perry, and by the title and timing of this post I’m sure you know what she picked. And she has waited patiently, without even asking how much longer until the concert even once, because she is the best child ever born in the history of ever.

And finally, FINALLY, yesterday was the day!! A school night! In the middle of the week! And the concert was 50 miles away! Because we make good parenting choices!


We set off nice and early (5:20pm) to make the hour drive to Lincoln just in case there was rush hour/concert traffic. There wasn’t. So we were a little early (or an eternity) for the 7pm start time. No problem, the whole experience was exciting for her, and there was tons of time to navigate lines for tshirts, and lines for the bathroom, and lines for water.


We got to our seats probably about 7:15, halfway through the pre-opening act. An act (Ferious? Ferros?) who was clearly SUPER enamored of 80s staples like Simple Minds’ Don’t Forget About Me, and could use some help lowering the inanity level of his lyrics. One song was about his leather jacket, and at one point he started talking to the audience like, “do you want to know why I love this jacket?” and Izzy says “not really.” Ha!


Nose bleed seats- but no obs vu!

Anyway, he finally finished, and I thought “super. Now the real opening act, then the main event!” Except, no. Despite the set pieces for the opener consisting of two neon cacti, it took at least 30min for Kacey Musgrave (is that her name?) to start. Good news: she’s really good and I liked her songs. Bad news: it’s already past Isabelle’s bedtime and the “real” concert (which I knew from Google was 2 hours long) hasn’t even started. Good thing I let Izzy eat an entire giant bag of cotton candy!

FINALLY, at about 9:15pm, Katy Perry entered rose up through the center of the stage. And here is where I regale you with a million terrible, blurry, far away iphone pics!


Girl puts on a hell of a show. She also changes her clothes faster than anyone I know. She had tons of costume changes (including wigs!), and back up dancers dressed as Egyptians, as cats, as cats IN costume (cat walking to Vogue, no less), and in various day glo outfits- with or without neon piping. It was quite the spectacle.




She had a cool horse manned by people that she rode around on


This effect where she “walked on air” over a giant blowing sheet of fabric was fun


When she rose up in this giant skirt right before our eyes Isabelle said “Katy has a lot of tricks up her sleeve.”


Here she is giving two kids from the audience corn because, Nebraska.


Real fireworks for the finale, showstopper Firework!





All in all it was an awesome time. I would totally go again, even though I didn’t get to bed until 1:30am and Isabelle had to go to school on 6 hours of sleep instead of her usual 11.





So fun. Happy birthday, Isabelle!!


*so not cheaper than a birthday party

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Shrodinger’s Baby

Beatrice is two. Like, REALLY two. The twoiest two that has ever been. Everyday is a new adventure in decoding the mysteries of what it is she wants at any given second, when she doesn’t even know.

The majority of the time she is still the most delightful little peanut. But then she gets her panties in a bunch, or it’s too close to mealtimes or I’m just plain not doing everything she wants to the smallest minutiae, and she loses her shit. Which throws everything off the rails. I can’t even tell you how many times we’ve had a “I want the juice I don’t want the juice I want the juice I don’t want the juice” steady wail going.

It’s so fun.

I never knew the question of whether or not you wanted a snack could be so frickin’ complicated. Or to sit on the couch. It’s insane.

None of the other kids were ever quite this TWO. We certainly had our fair share of frustrations around this age- although honestly, probably not our fair share. These kids have been pretty miraculous as far as good behavior goes. But nobody was so consistently inconsistent about what they wanted. Bebe literally both wants and doesn’t want EVERY SINGLE THING you offer her. And she’s super pissed that you are offering/taking away said item, and just generally not reading her mind at any moment in time.

I can’t wait for her to turn three.*

*except I can. Because three is WORSE

Posted in Bebe, growing up, parenting | Leave a comment