Mr. Destructo is now a three year old and for the sake of my sanity, I'm hoping this means that he has left the "terrible two's" far behind.  (please don't burst my happy thought with the truth, thank you) I have to admit to noticing an increase in his "independence", meaning he yells a lot "I can do it BY MYSELF"!!!  One thing this relates to in particular is his wanting to pick out his own clothes.  Funny part about this is that my 6 year old princess still shows no signs of wanting to dress herself unless it is related to the comfort. In other words, if it pinches, hangs too low, rides up, scratches, digs or pulls, it's not going to be worn, ever.  Anyway...Mr. Destructo has decided that the best outfit to wear is a pair of "scratchy pants" and some kind of sports jersey. My job has now become trying to figure out how to keep one of the three jerseys that he has, clean.  This wouldn't be a terribly hard task if he didn't rotate through all of them most days.   This is how it works...we get him dressed in the morning;  OK who am I kidding, he gets dressed at some point during the day, usually after he is done running around naked (or if he is going to hang with his buddies, then he has to try to dress like them...) and then usually every hour or so, he makes a trip into his closet and pulls down 11 things until he finds the new "scratchy pants" and jersey he is going to wear.  I'm sure your all just dying to know what "scratchy pants" are...it's really any kind of sweat pant that feels slick and soft...aparently they even make great jammies...I guess  I should like his decision to sleep in them too, since this does eliminate a pair of jammie pants.???

       Color has no bearing on his choices for the day, and neither does what he has worn most recently; I know this should not matter to me either, but to be honest, I am a little worried about what the other mommies of preschoolers will be thinking this year.  I can picture it now, they will be dropping off their perfectly primped and put together little jean wearing angels and here will march in my oh so handsome but randomly dresses man.  I guess I can only hope he does not decide to wear his "just like Justin Beiber" clothes (thats another story for another day)  OK, I'll just tell  you a little bit about that...my kids love two of his songs, and so with each one, he has to go get the outfit that most closely resembles Justins.  This means a leather jacket for "Never say Never", and a military style shirt and a dog tag for "Baby"...nuff said.

     You know when kids wear batman costumes in public?  I kinda like that because you know for sure that the mom absultly did NOT go to the closet that moring and say "here honey, why don't you be batman today"???  The problem with my dudes clothing choices is that you would look and wonder what "what in the h#%$& was mom thinking when she picked out red and black sweats to go with a green and yellow baseball jersey"???

     Lucky for me, he is so deliciously yummy, with eyes that could stop a runaway train (AKA a raging mother)...and so, I will continue to let him dress himself; as a future football player, or an up and coming rock star because he loves it....hey, at least the tu-tu's are gone!

 Make sure to share your clothing stories under the comments below!  We loooove to laugh at you relate to you!

I LOVE April 1st, but I hate lame April fool’s jokes. I will, however, probably tell my husband that I’m pregnant just for the heck of it. It’s my only tradition for this holiday (fyi, I am NOT).



You know what’s not a joke? I turned 29 two months ago. I look in the mirror and I see the same girl I’ve always seen, though at least I finally look like adult. My body doesn’t feel older. The only thing to signal that I am older is the passing of time. I have been married 7. 5 years to the love of my life and we have two daughters together. My baby sisters are gorgeous teenagers now, both of them taller than me. And my mom is gone.



There are other signs that I am aging. For now, they’re miniscule, but present if I look hard enough. And sometimes it really bothers me. But I heard a song a few weeks ago that changed my perspective like a slap in the face. It was a song that a young man had written to the Lord, and I cannot remember anything about it save for one line.



“You are writing out my story in the lines upon my face.” I thought about my face and the story written there.



In the summer I get freckles. I don’t really burn, and my tan is all due to the Native American blood that runs through my veins. Those freckles are a sign of my heritage and of summers spent in the Redding sun. Of days on the lake and afternoons by the pool teaching my sisters to swim. They remind me of barbecues in the sweltering heat with family members, some of which are gone now.



I have a few wrinkles around my eyes. Nick calls them my “smile lines” and says they’re cute. I’m not so sure about that, but if I have to have wrinkles I guess I would want it to be from smiling too much.





I’m sure some of those little lines are due to the lack of good sleep for the past 5 years. Nights of tossing and turning as the child inside of me kicked the crud out of my ribs, reminding me with every painful movement that they were alive and well. Nights of soothing a crying newborn, reminding me with every cry and whimper that they were healthy and growing and warm in my arms. Busy days of working and working and caring and cleaning on the heels of those sleepless nights. All the smiles and hugs and sloppy kisses and fragile “Lub you mamas” that make each sleepless night and exhausting day absolutely worth it. Call them smile lines or sleepless nights, I wear the story of my children proudly around my eyes.



I have brown hair, but hidden beneath some “dark mahogany” hair color are the beginnings of a few white strands that I have un-affectionately named “2010.” I had heard that trauma and stress could have a dramatic affect on a person’s body, and it’s true. I’m not too happy about this development. But they remind me of my mother, and that the loss of her was so great to me that it turned some of my hair white.





My story will continue to appear. Written out on each inch of my skin, in my hair, around my eyes. I’ll still do what I can to fight the aging process, but some things just can’t be changed. And in a way, I think I can cherish these changes. I have been altered by my experiences, my memories, my everydays. Everydays that make up a collection of a life for which I am more grateful than words.



I pray I will be privileged to one day become one of the really blessed. Those with aging bodies and gray hair sitting on their porch swings with their spouses (Cause I’m gonna have a porch!). I want to see my legacy running around in the lives of my children and grandchildren. I’m not as afraid of aging as I once was because I see it for what it is now. It means I’m alive!!!



Ladies, instead of picking apart your looks and mourning your younger years, thank God for the life that courses through your body. For the oxygen in your lungs. For the memories filling your brains. For the love bursting from your heart. And if you don’t have memories and love, then make it happen.



My daughters’ favorite movie is Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium. There’s a scene where Mahoney and Mr. Magorium sneak into a clock store and set all the clocks to go off at the same time. They hide behind a big grandfather clock and she says, “Now we wait.” Mr. Magorium responds with, “No. We breathe. We pulse. We regenerate. Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest. Thirty- seven seconds, well used, is a lifetime.”



Life is happening now. And the story is being written out in the lines upon our faces. Each new wrinkle is a testimony of all that God has brought us through, and all that He is taking us towards.



You may not be on a lake getting tan, but you are investing in the lives of the future generation. The future world changers are on your kitchen floor right now, spilling cheerios, pooping, drawing on the walls, yelling and climbing on the couches. The future president is running around in diapers somewhere. The future red cross workers are playing with cars and markers. The future pastors and teachers and mommies are begging their own mommies to let them jump in mud puddles. Or maybe they’re throwing their dinner at their mamas like my baby is doing right now.



Now take a deep breath. Draw that sweet air into your lungs, get off the computer, stop fussing over your looks and age, and go do something with your children, and if you have one, with your spouse. It’s April 1st, you are alive, and it’s time to celebrate.



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Don't Forget to {Go Blue} for autism awareness month.. Check out these amazing mother warriors and do your part to spread awareness about autism this month!

Organizing Made Fun

Earth Monkey Moms

A Bowl Full of Lemons

Hello House, Goodbye Home

Pieces of My Heart

Caffeinated Autism Mom

{Here's my "Oldie but Goodie" pick... it's the very first post I wrote for EMM and it's still painfully true today! Hope you likey:)}

I only paint the toes that show on any given day. From a distance it looks like I have a decent pedi going … and I do mean a distance. But if you look up close you would see about 17 layers of gunky, chipped “You don’t know Jacques” OPI nail polish on my toes. My big toe on my left foot is still swollen and throbbing from an unfortunate forking (which is why forks don’t belong on the floor FYI) and the calluses on my heals…well it’s just not proper to talk about them in mixed company.



Anyway, why am I going on about my disgusting man feet??? Because I think they kind of represent who I am in life…(stay with me now girls.) So much of what I do and how I portray myself is so others will think that I have it together…not ALL together because that would be annoying…but just together. What I want you to see is that I have three crazy boys … two with special needs… and although we have been faced with many challenges… I am strong and I am easy going and I know what I’m doing. That’s what I want you to see, and that’s probably what it looks like from a distance. But when you get even remotely close enough you will see that many days I am just broken…that I use humor to put myself down to guard against your judgement… and that I have no clue what I’m doing most of the time or how to be a good mom to such complex boys.



I’m sick of pretending to be someone I’m not. Guess what I’m a horrible house keeper…not just because my kids destroy everything…but because I hate to clean. If you come to my house without any notice, my house WILL NOT be clean…EVER. I will never be a gentle soft spoken mom who plays games and does crafts all day with my kids…that’s just not me. But what I am trying to come to grips with is that who God made me … is enough. I am enough… and you are too.



So today, before we post on facebook that we just ran 5 miles, cleaned our houses and listened to our 3-year-old recite the encyclopedia…tI think we need to ask ourselves if we're being real or someone we've created in our heads. Because until we are ready to be real and sometimes even vulnerable…we can never be in true community with other moms. How can we be there for each other if we don’t really know each other?





Want to Win an Earth Monkeys Eco-Friendly Bib? Post a comment under this link on the Earth Monkeys Facebook Page about an area in your life where you have trouble being real or want people to think you have it more together than you actually do... the first step is admitting it... I just bared all... you can too:)

Fashion should be a four letter word...oh I've fallen for it, or better said, "fallen victim to it"! I have, as shameful as it is to admit, followed a good portion of the trends in the last 38 years. As ugly as it was, I think it started with that second grade picture in the green velvet dress with flower lacy thing over it. I thought I looked great!  The bangs though, were growing out and why my mom thought they should be parted down the middle and curled is still one of my biggest life mysteries!!!

      I have fallen victim to florescent pink socks, with the matching earrings, bracelets,belt and eyeshadow! I wore my jeans pegged so tight I could barely get into them, and thought I was pretty cool topping them off with a lacy type shirt and jean vest...OHHH do not laugh at ME, because if you were at your peak in the 80's, you know exactly what I am talking about! Lets do a little journey through time shall we? Starting with the sweet look of corduroy bell bottoms and clogs, leather fringe, fur vests, rinestones, studs and bleach spots, leather pants (yep I had 2 colors!) huge baggy jeans,  jeans so tight it made it hard to breath, and more recently, those awe-full seriously pointy toed shoes! Please, if anyone out there is still wearing those, for god sakes STOP!!!  Maybe it's just me, but personally want to be able to stand on normally shaped feet and toes when I am 63!

  



Prom pictures could be my all around favorite.  Oh how we all think we look like beauty queens at the time! But that dream is shattered a few years later when you look back at pictures and realize that 15 yards of shiny blue silk covered in black lace (with the matching blue shoes) was maybe not the best look.  Ya, I did that one.  I designed it for my Sr. prom...nuff said.







Sad thing is you will notice a picture of me at New Years Eve, and I wish that I did not have to admit that this was only about 5 years ago, when as a full grown adult,  I sported a shiny silk black skirt, a bustier type tank and a long black knitted scarf!  All I can say about this look is what the @%&*$#!!!!  Seriously, I should have known better!!! ( I think this might still be one of my husbands favorite looks! gasp!)





      Now that I am pushing 40 ( I just threw up a little bit in my mouth) I think I finally figured it all out....ok well maybe not ALL...but  I know what looks good. I know what feels good. I know what fits and what works.  I no longer follow trends, unless of course they fit into my simple style.  This is how I can  best describe my style (not that I am compairing myself to this person by the way...) you know how Jennifer Aniston always looks the same...same colors, same shapes, same styles...even if its on the red carpet.  Her hair is even almost always the same.  Well that's me, minus the red carpet!  (and gorgeous hair, hot body and loads of money) I like Jeans that are basically the same fit, I like black, white, and grey t shirts.  simple ones.  I like to put on a scarf for color, or when I'm feeling really sassy, a blazer or vest.  And thank goodness for  Bohemian jones Jewelry to keep me from looking stale!!!  My shoes are limited to brown, black, tan, grey and I love them all.  I no longer force myself to wear things that are uncomfortable or scratchy...or for that matter, colorful!!!    Stacy and Clinton would "gasp" at my lack of creativity and I no longer care!!!

   So here is my great advice for today...put a bag into your closet and if you put something on and don't LOVE it, toss it!  Stop worrying about if you are totally on trend and just be you!  Be the best version of you that you can be...like making sure you have the right cut of jean and the right size of tops and jackets!  I have a friend who is a personal shopper and she says that most people buy the wrong size clothing (including me I guess!)  Figure out your own personal style then rock it like a cowboy (k, that made no sense but I can't think of what rocks???)



We would loooooooove to see your worst fashion moments!  Post a picture on our Earth Monkeys facebook wall if you are feeling brave enough to show the world!  We will pick our biggest fashion victim and give you a big prize (like our undying love and sympathy gratitude)



And once again, my plea to share us!  We want the world to know how smart and wonderful completely random and embarrassing we are!  Thanks Lady!!! You rock like a cowboy!!!

     There is a scene in one of my favorite movies, Christmas Vacation, that makes me cringe every time I see it.  Cousin Eddy arrives at Clarks house with his family in their "tenement on wheels" and as grandpa bends down to give the son a little kiss, Eddy says something to the effect of "you might not want to do that, he's got a little lip fungus that they aint identified yet"...



     I had the joy of experiencing my first zit at the age of 19.  Now those of you that struggled through high school with a face full of them are probably thinking "lucky!!!"  But for me, it has taken 20 years, a truckload of antibiotics, bathtubs of benzoil peroxide,  washes, scrubs, lotions, ointments, homeopathic remedies and special diets, it's finally gone.  Basically I got to experience my 2 weddings, my 2 children's births, beauty school, 2 careers, my 21st., 25th, 30th and 35th birthdays, covered in zits!  Fun...The great part is, they are gone, the bad part is, now I'm fighting the wrinkle battle!  So not fair!!!  At this point in my life, my bathroom cabinet  resembles that of a 65 year old wrinkled, puberty struck, "cousin Eddies son", freckled freak of nature.   I have RetinA for the acne (yes that is what FINALLY got rid of it!), Tri-luma to fade the freckles (sounds much better than "age spots!"), arnica cream for the aching arthritis in my knuckles, and this is the shudder part...an anti-fungal used on jock itch and athletes foot!  There I said it!  I had to use something men used on their johnsons, peepers, man parts, unmentionables, to cure the area just above my lip.  (cringe!) If I ever pictured living a scene in Christmas Vacation, it would be the part with the swimming pool, NOT the lip fungus scenario!   It now takes me longer to get ready for bed than it does to get ready in the morning!  (a point which my husband just LOVES...especially the night guard, sexy!! Riiiiiight)  When each section of your face requires a different "magic potion, it takes a while! The irony is that I am crazy about what our family eats and puts on our skin.  We are basically limited to a bare minimum soap, an organic shampoo and plain coconut oil on our bodies...but when it comes to trying to get my face to resemble that of a human, I'll pretty much resort to whatever chemical is necessary...I admit to peals, micro-dermabrasions, botox (hey don't judge, this stuff takes off 10 years!), and fillers...yep, I have these hollow lines under my eyes, and darn it, I just like it when they are gone.   There, now you all know my secrets!   And one other thing..thank goodness for editing (and Maria Alexandra Photography) because according to a lot of my photos, my face looks as smooth as my little guys butt!"



     Funny what a little vanity does...Ya I'm not afraid to admit to being just a little bit vain...We are bombarded by skinny, plastic looking 16 year olds on tv and magazines selling us "old girls" living in the real world, foundation that makes us look 13.6 years younger, and eye creams that will for sure make us look like we actually have slept for more than 3 hours in a row, and cream to rub on our butts to that will make them look like my 5 year olds!  But the reality?  That type of magic doesn't really exist!  We can fill our drawers with 15 different creams and still scare ourselves when we look in the mirror in the morning!  We will  have lines when we smile, (I'm ok with a lot from that!) furrows when we yell at our kids (not that I ever do that! right...) and no amount of sunscreen with ward off those pesky age spots freckles.  But I guess at the end of the day, It's all good.  I want to do the best I can, (and rid myself of fungus..gag) and the rest is controlled by gravity and time.  So once again, I have no real lesson of the day, just a little funny so you can laugh at me and feel better about yourself!



     I want to know what is in your bathroom drawer...make me feel better now...

and remember to share us with your friends! Us moms need each other!!

We hope this gives you a good laugh...if it does, please share us with your friends!  And please, leave your best advice (or really embarrassing story) in our comment box below, its not too late to help out a fellow EMM!



We wish you all a very safe and happy new year!!  Thank you all for a first great run...we look forward to a ton more fun!

NVAKATPGPMZE 

I only paint the toes that show on any given day. From a distance it looks like I have a decent pedi going … and I do mean a distance. But if you look up close you would see about 17 layers of gunky, chipped “You don’t know Jacques” OPI nail polish on my toes. My big toe on my left foot is still swollen and throbbing from an unfortunate forking (which is why forks don’t belong on the floor FYI) and the calluses on my heals…well it’s just not proper to talk about them in mixed company.