Happy Birthday Grandma....

I received a call from my mother today that it was my grandma's birthday. Being the fabulous daughter and granddaughter I am, I asked for Grandma's phone number to give her a ring and wish her a happy birthday. I realize, I should know this number - but lets just stay on topic, alright?

I called half expecting voicemail and was surprised when she answered - but shared the following heartwarming conversation:
"Hi Grandma! It's Danielle!"
"What?"
"It's Danielle Grandma, how are you?"
"What? Just a minute..."

She was on her cell phone with "her daughter in Colorado" - wasn't sure who was on a trip there, but I was in a hurry and wanted to get the call moving.

"Grandma, its Danielle - Mary's daughter - I wanted to call you for your birthday..."
"OH!! Thank you! It was a couple weeks ago but I'm glad you called."

We went on to talk about the weather, what she did for her birthday, and I told her I would try to stop by this weekend or soon for her to visit with my newborn daughter. All in all - a fabulous conversation.

I hung up, pleased with myself, and called my mom to ask why she told me it was grandma's birthday two weeks after the fact. After a very long pause...she sheepishly admitted that she had given me the wrong number by mistake.

I hope whoever's grandma I talked to did have a good birthday and enjoyed our talk. And after calling my own grandma, and getting the right one, I know that she did too.

My next dilemma: should I call the wrong grandma to cancel our visit?

"You work here? I need a salesman."

I come from a long line of strong women. Mostly because they can't stay married for long and end up with no other choice, but strong all the same. I can change the oil in my car, I can fix many things around the house, I am the breadwinner in my marriage, and I am succsesful in a mostly male industry. While I don't routinely burn my bras (although I have a few underwires I'm tempted to) I have spent the last five years hoping that my son is taking notes and learning that he better respect women because we can do whatever he can. Then my husband and I had a daughter and its come to a new level.

I have to pass these skills on as they were passed to me - minus the ability to drive a man away in 2 years or less.

The first chance to do so arrived yesterday when I took my sister to look for a car with my daughter and 2 year old niece in tow. The greatest moment did not come when we asked technical questions of the salesmen (eyebrows raised before answers were given) or when we haggled some of the prices down into our range then told them "we'd think about it". It came in a used car lot no where near ANYTHING - when my 1 month old decided to poop and completely fill her outfit!

It was magical as we wedged her into the front seat and my sister and I stripped her down nekkid in the front seat in the used car parking lot with a bunch of mechanics watching and get her changed into a new outfit. The whole time my niece is in the back seat waving a burpl cloth screaming "da baby needs dis!!!!" My sister and I are covered in bright yellow breastFed baby poo but we did not panic, we remained strong in our abilities and the mission at hand as mommies. Wiping ourselves with wipes and using hand sanitizer, we get her diaper packed away, and my sister gets out and walks up to the mechanics and says "You work here? I need a salesman."

After a very nervous, barely out of high school kid showed us the in's and out's of the vehicle in question, we climbed back into our car and left the used car lot. We may not have found the car (yet!) but we handled a mommy crisis and never broke stride in our ability to still be strong, competent women.

Lessons learned:
1. Don't go to the used car lot near nothing with a baby that hasn't pooed all day. There is no 1999 Malibu on the planet worth that nightmare.
2. Put some plastic bags in the diaper bag. A McDonald's cup will contain an overloaded diaper and half a package of used poo filled wipes - but what if you don't have older kids and therefore, there are not McDonald's cups hidden underneat the seats of your car?
3. Want to let a salesman know not to mess with you? Let him watch you soak your hands in baby poo, wipe it off, shake his hand, and ask him for the truth...that takes balls.
4. The 2 year old needs to be at daycare next time. I don't think I need to elaborate here.
5. We're all going to be ok and these girls will grow up fine with role models that can literally handle anything at any time and any place. And if they can't - they'll know they can call their mamas.

We found a few car options ,we're going back out tomorrow so I'm sure to have more fabulous tales for you.

It's a giveaway!

Alright, so its not MY giveaway, but its A giveaway! From a local business I am all too familiar with - passing them every morning on my way into the office and by using their products once I'm there. They're good people and who can't use a new office chair (for those who can't, feel free to enter and pass it to me if you win)?

It's simple - check out Kentwood Office Furniture on Facebook and like them. They'll draw at 200 fans, I'm liking those odds! No commenting, no recruiting people - seriously, its just that easy! I'll even give you the link - since that's the kind of gal I am:

http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Kentwood-Office-Furniture/157565837605673

So there you have it. Two clicks, better chair, happier back and bottom. You can thank me later.

I drool over my kids...

Literally.

Following an epic Friday night bedtime battle and then overseeing a 5 year old's birthday party can be exhausting (Note to self: probably should have had more parents stay to corral their kids!). Add in having a 3 week old newborn baby and limited sleep as a result and Momma starts to look like the most beautiful zombie in the world - since I like to think I still have better hair, skin, and fashion sense than most zombies.

Was anyone shocked when I passed out on the couch with my little bambinos tucked in all cozy for their naps? I certainly wasn't. I was, however, shocked when I woke up to the top of my 5 year old's head sweating like crazy!! I was moderately concerned that he'd picked up some strange strain of the flu or other illness at the party. I felt his forehead and he seemed ok, pulled the blankets back to cool him down, then started to move for the thermometer only to realize - the puddle on top of his head wasn't his fault. It was mine.

I drooled all over his head.

So yes. I drool over my kids - I've been accused of that before - and now its taken on a literal meaning I can no longer deny. I love them to pieces and I'm not afraid to make a bold statement about it.

Even if it means adding a second bath into the day.

Bet you thought I gave up...again. YOU WERE WRONG!

But I didn't! I went off and had a baby :) She's fine, I'm fine, and life is good now. Glad that the random contractions have stopped, I no longer visit the bathroom every 15 minutes, and I am proud to say that I have been Tums free for over 1 week now!

And the fact that I have a sweet, soft, cuddly, cute as a button little baby girl to snuggle up with every day is pretty darn great too!!

But now, all I can think about is this great big, still somewhat pregnant tummy I have. It took me just over 4 years to get this under control last time...I don't want it to take another 4 years! And now I'm in my 30's, not my 20's! So it could be longer!

So although strict dieting is out for a few weeks still, especially since I am nursing, and I haven't gotten the all clear to exercise, I have been sitting here stewing and investigating my options. I will look ok this summer - I am determined. And NEXT summer is my husband's high school reunion, I have to look super by then :)

I started this by asking the question I consider before many of life's bigger decisions "What would a Kardashian do?" (it might not help me in financial decisions but for those of the vanity variety it never fails!). I was led to the Belly Bandit to get me started.

Not sure what it is? Basically, one heck of a binding, corset device that gets things back into place and helps aid in shrinking things back down (you can check their site for more info or to order KK's limited edition design www.bellybandit.com). I thought it would be awful - but worth it. Who doesn't want the body of a Kardashian? Well - maybe not Khloe, but the other two? For sure!

I got it. I threw it on. And one week post partum, I look MAYBE 3 months pregnant. I seem to recall looking a good 6 months along for easily the first month or so with my first child. Looking at how things are progressing - with no diet, no exercise, and NO EFFORT I am sure I'll be into my pre-pregnancy clothing by the time that I return to work. I'm geeked. It's comfortable, I keep it on all day and FORGET it is there! I'm hoping it might even help repair some damage from #1 and get some skin back in place - we'll see.

From there though, I'm considering a diet plan and a MODERATE exercise plan. I AM nursing. That is hands down more important to me than any weightloss goal or fabulous pair of pants or the ability to look respectable at the beach this summer. So I'm curious now if anyone who reads this (ya know, both of you...) has done the Weight Watchers program for nursing moms?

I've looked into it on their site and it seems legit and they seem to be working hard to preserve milk supplies while giving mom some weight loss success - so I'm looking for some feedback. Did you do this? Something else? What worked, what didn't, what do you recommened? I'm lonely home with a newborn all day obsessing about my return to milf status this summer...give a momma a hand and leave me some feedback on it :)

Rachel Ray...I've got a bone to pick with you

The worst part of being home on "restricted activities" for the remainder of this pregnancy? I'm stuck with daytime television. I hate it. I try to listen to the radio more and maybe catch the Price is Right, but these talk shows? Who on Earth is sitting at home watching these with baited breath?

SOMETIMES I can get a good recipe off Rachel Ray or find out about a new product. I'll tune into her from time to time to check her out, but I'm royally regretting that decision today. Not only did she chose the most overdone, overrated topics for today "lets give people a makeover!"...but she took it to a new level by forcing these makeovers onto guys. Some volunteered, some nominated by their wives - because nothing says "I love you" more than "let me take you on television to tell you everything that's wrong with your hair, face, and clothes so you can then be frilled up for an hour, only to return to everything I hate by the time we get home, and most likely tormented by your friends for the next 3 years when we get home". I'll apologize to my husband in advance, I suppose, for not nominating him and loving him (DARE I SAY IT?) just the way he is!!

I groaned through the haircut section thinking this is stupid. No guy is taking notes to hand to Bob the Barber later this week.

Then they crossed the line. The guyliner line. Really?? I might put on eye liner once a week - tops. How can I possibly go out of the house knowing that he might look more put together than me if he jumps on the guyliner train? And how are we going to survive the bathroom shuffle if he starts adding makeup to the agenda? I got past that though, knowing that no man would willing do that and the women that force their husbands to do it are sacrificing their own bathroom time - not mine. Then they went further and it became personal.

"Beards need gel."

What?! Yeah, read it again, I had to. I didn't type it wrong. And I didn't hear it wrong (I backed up the DVR to double check!). My husband's gorgeous, manly beard - needs gel? Fabulous! Just what I want to deal with after giving him a kiss - washing the greasy gel off my face. Does it double as hair gel? Because that's what I'll end up with after a hug. And wasn't the point of him getting the beard to look like a strong, rugged man? Not some dolled up pretty boy ready to be paraded around like one of those poor little dogs people cram into purses? You've crossed the line Rachel Ray, I'm feeling quite upset and if I wouldn't have to get out of the chair to waddle across the room for the remote I'd be changing this channel STAT!

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, they started dressing these poor guys. I don't want to see a man in store-bought beat up jeans. I don't want a man in a magenta sports coat or a neutral one with a "festive" pocket square. Varsity looking sweaters in your 30's and bomber jackets THIS CENTURY are simply unforgivable.

I want a man in a pair of well-worn blue jeans, sneakers that have seen some wear, and a t-shirt that smells just like him within 30 minutes of putting it on. I want a trimmed beard left to do its thing and hair that falls into place wherever it falls following a shower. I want to smell Irish Spring soap, not lavender man lotions when he gets into bed at night. If I wanted all of this grooming, make up, and girly fashion happening in my love life - I'd have switched teams long enough.

So, I'm mad at you Rachel Ray! For messing with these men and insinuating that mine isn't fine the way he is! I'm glad I'm not married to myself and that when he walks up, its clear that he's a hardworking man's man. THAT'S a YUM-O I can behind!!

The Wisdom of Rob Van Winkle

A few days late, but with just as much sentiment, Happy New Year to you! I hope everyone had a good one and no one made any resolutions that are just impossible and will make you crabby for the next 2-3 weeks. Me? I made the greatest resolution a few years back and it was the only one that I've ever been able to keep really - no more resolutions. So far, this year is off to a good start too.


I know that people get wrapped up in the newness of the New Year and all of the possibilities facing them, but I personally don't see why we need some sort of uniform date. The motto at our house is based off of the very wise Rob Van Winkle (better known as Vanilla Ice): "If you got a problem, yo - I'll solve it." There's no mention of waiting until January 1st to get started, you got a problem - solve it. Want to lose weight? Do it now. Get out of debt, get to it. Stop smoking? Get cracking (or better yet...never start).





My eyes have been opened to the wisdom of one Rob Van Winkle over the last few months, in part due to my continued love for the early 90's white boy rap of my adolescent years and The Vanilla Ice Project on the DIY Network. The man is more than just a good pair of parachute pants, amazing slanty haircut, and David Bowie ripoff suspect....he's deep. So deep, I'd like to have dinner with the man just to pick his brain.


Have you see this show? By the LOOKS of it, the houses they are working on are about to have their copper pipes ripped out and sold at the local scrap yard for this crew to go get some more tattoos, piercings, and low riding El Caminos.




However, once you're past the initial glance and they start talking you realize that these guys are actually smart and savvy businessmen.


They know how to do things that I'd lose a limb doing. They negotiate high dollar deals, make cost effective decisions to achieve the maximum return on their investment, and they're (sit down and get ready for this one) exemplary role model citizens for the communities that they work in?! Never thought I'd be saying that back in the early and mid-90's - nor during that awkward "Celebrity Rehab" stint with a naked "Mini-Me" and Gary Coleman working with Ice to get him straight. Somehow, somewhere, at some point, the light went off and he made some changes.



Being an over the top rapper, who may be ridiculed but is making way more than the rest of, he's moved into music that he likes to keep his passion going. And into real estate and flipping, to take care of his family. It's shocking and surprising to say the least, but he's rolled with punches. And I don't think he waited for a specified day to do it. I think he woke up one day, realized "Holy Mother of Mary, I'm Vanilla Ice and if I don't make some changes, this life is going to get really bad really fast." It wasn't a monumentous day, announcement, or event. It was a decision that he made on a random day and stuck with. That's how it should be.

So good luck with your resolutions, for me, I'm reveling in my lack thereof and the leave you with one final Rob Van Winkle inspirational thought "Anything less than the best is a felony."