I remember as a kid my parents, aunts and uncles, and grandparents always saying, “time flies by.” Of course, as a teenager time could not go fast enough. There were so many milestones to hit: sweet sixteen and driving a car, graduating high school, going off to college, turning 21, graduating college and making a name for myself in the world.

But now I’m a mommy and I understand the statement, “time flies by” often uttered by my elders. I see how fast my children are growing and changing each and every day. I told my brother-in-law one day how the kids’ birthdays are bittersweet. On one hand I am so blessed to have healthy, happy, amazing children, and on the other hand, they’re one year closer to moving out. I always shed a few tears on their birthdays.

I cried almost everyday the entire summer before my oldest began school last year. It was so hard to let my baby go. I had never spent a day without him.  Now I look forward to long weekends, along with winter and summer breaks so I can spend more time with him.

When I heard Lady Antebellum’s “Heart of the World” during the drive to my parent’s house for Christmas, I knew I had a new favorite song. As a mommy and wife, “Heart of the World” is a relatable song, especially the second verse:

I leave him sleeping as I rise early

Always up before the dawn

The house is dark, but I see clearly

Kettle sings a morning song

The bacon’s frying, babies crying

I soak up the sights and sounds

Minutes turn to days and I wish that I could slow it down

If grease is the soul of the kitchen

And coffee the drink of the Gods

Routine to perfect to mention

Time is a thief I would rob

 

Oh, and hope is the soul of the dreamer

And heaven is the home of my God

It only takes on true believer

To believe you can still beat the odds

I try to spend as much individual time with my children too. I plan little dates with them, spend alone time with my daughter while my son is at school and I have quality time with my son after school while his sister is sleeping.

Do you see time flying by now that you have kids or matured in age? Is Time a Thief You Would Rob?

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“As soon as Mommy finishes making a pee-pee we will make ham and eggs, okay?” I told my adorable two-year-old daughter.

Wrongly assuming I could make a fast tinkle and start breakfast in under a minute, I heard the sound that made me dash for the kitchen. To most people the sound of the microwave turning on doesn’t strike the fear of God in them, but all I could think of was, “Oh, God. The house is going to burn down!”

The night before, the kids and I made Christmas sugar cookies decked out with frosting and sprinkles. I gently wrapped the cookies in foil and stored them in the microwave to keep them from drying out while the frosting settled onto the cookies.

By the time I reached the microwave, the burning was well under way. My innocent looking two-year-old stood by the microwave proudly proclaiming she started breakfast as I was feverishly grabbing the burning foil, frosting and cookies out of the microwave. Luckily, she only managed to leave a few frosting burn marks on the brand-new microwave and we didn’t burn down the house. I don’t think our landlord would have appreciated that very much.

I guess I better start a potty schedule for me.

Does anyone know how to take off burn marks or cover them up?

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Sometimes it’s fun to see your childhood friends. You’re flooded with memories and remember the good old days. Other times it’s embarrassing when friends from your childhood end-up on national television for losing a bet and making a fool of themselves.

Denver Broncos fan Brady Wagner was so sure his team would beat the Patriots Sunday, he wagered a tattoo with a childhood friend. If Denver won, Wagner’s friend would get a Tim Tebow tattoo. If the Patriots won, Wagner agreed to get a Bill Belichick tattoo.

 

Brady, do you know you now have a Belichick tramp stamp?

And no, I’m not surprised by this. Maybe I should be embarrassed for admitting to know Brady.

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I don’t know how I do it, but I am the master of impeccable timing. Six days before Christmas and I come down with a nasty cold. Seriously?

My hubby swears by code orange. So tonight it’s me, two kids, orange juice and two shots of my buddy Jack.

Does anyone else know of a good homemade miracle worker to get rid of the common cold?

Merry Christmas Everyone!

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It happens every time without a doubt. Hubby and I will finish watching a movie and he’ll say, “I don’t get it.” This isn’t after some brain draining, dumbing-down documentary. After documentaries it’s usually, “That was a waste of my time. It was completely one-sided and lacked any real investigation.” This is a statement I agree with.

No, it’s after our one movie we watch together on a Saturday night. It doesn’t matter if the movie is a comedy, drama (I don’t think we really watch these anyways), thriller, romcom or action flick. It’s always, “I don’t get it.” This weekend for our viewing pleasure we watched Matthew McConaughey in The Lincoln Lawyer.

 

In the gripping thriller “The Lincoln Lawyer,” Matthew McConaughey stars as Michael “Mick” Haller, a slick, charismatic Los Angeles criminal defense attorney who operates out of the back of his Lincoln Continental sedan. Having spent most of his career defending petty, gutter- variety criminals, Mick unexpectedly lands the case of a lifetime: defending a rich Beverly Hills playboy (Ryan Phillippe) who is accused of attempted murder. However, what initially appears to be a straightforward case with a big money pay-off swiftly develops into a deadly match between two masters of manipulation and a crisis of conscience for Haller.

Pretty straight forward, right? Not for my honey. Simply put, in the end Haller makes a right out of a wrong in his past. But no, honey just, “didn’t get it.” I’m so used to hearing this that I started a countdown at the end of The Lincoln Lawyer to see how long it would take for him to say it. A whopping 12 seconds later he uttered his famous film ending statement.

To be honest, the only reason I rented the movie was McConaughey. Ladies, am I right? I think McConaughey is liked by both genders. Guys think he’s a cool guy they could hang with and ladies like to look at him. But still, it was a good movie I would recommend it.

As a side note, we’ve decided hubby’s youngest cousin loos like Ryan Phillippe.

I liked The Lincoln Lawyer. I enjoyed it. I’d probably watch it again to see what I had missed the first time. We were only interrupted at least a dozen times by our kids.

Does your mate do something so predictable that you can countdown the moment it will happen?

Happy Viewing,

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“If you’re in a jam and suddenly realize that my name has vanished from your shopping list… something from your house is fine, preferably if it’s used. Who wouldn’t want mind a little pre-loved bath gel or lotion, or soap that you’ve found a little too fragrant for your tastes.

Shampoo that’s not for you, pour some sugar on me! I understand that you’ve merely pretested it to make sure it lives up to the standards you set for giving gifts. I totally understand that. Kind of like when people would taste food for kings to make sure it’s not poisoned, except in this case, you spit a little back on the plate is all. That’s all. Just a little spit. What’s a little spit in a heartfelt Christmas gift? So little that you almost can’t tell it’s hardly there at all. Hardly. I would also love little sample soaps and tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner from hotels. Makes me feel like I’ve been on vacation without the expense or the hassle of enjoyment.”

Looking for a fun book this holiday season? I would recommend Laurie Notaro’s  An Idiot Girl’s Christmas: True Tales from the Top of the Naughty List. I was laughing out loud right after the first paragraph. My children thought, “mommy’s lost her mind,’ but I was simply relating Notaro’s story.

Like Notaro, I can think of plenty-o-gifts that I’m sure weren’t meant for me. One time, I received hotel soaps and lotions as a gift. I guess the gifter thought I’d never know my “gifts” were hotel samples because the bottle label was in French. Too bad I’m fluent in French and read, “enjoy this sample courtesy of this hotel.”

When we hung-up our stockings this year, my hubby made a point to make sure Santa left a little something for mommy in her stocking. Last year, the kids questioned if I was on Santa’s naughty list because I was the only one with an empty stocking.

We all have our own holiday horror stories. Notaro’s include going to Kmart on Christmas Eve to purchase lady products. One horror story I lived was from my senior year of high school. I remember being at a New Year’s Eve party and witnessing the entire football team love the reindeer display at the house across the street. I can’t look at lawn decorative reindeer the same way.

Laurie Notaro’s  An Idiot Girl’s Christmas: True Tales from the Top of the Naughty List is a quick, funny read.

Do you have a funny holiday story?

Happy Reading,

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