I need Xanax and Holy Water, STAT!

Well Jackson had surgery Tuesday to put new tubes in his ears and to remove his adenoids.  He was so cute in the holding room before surgery.  They gave him Versed which they called giggle juice and he was so funny on it.  You could see it kick in and he got this big smile on his face.  He started just randomly kissing me and he was swaying side to side.  He was flirting with the nurses.  Everyone that came in the room seemed to ask him if he went by Jackson or Jack.  He would respond with "my name is Jackson Jones...what's your name?" in a total ladies man tone.  He got irritated when I took his glasses when they started wheeling him back and he was giving the anesthesiologist a hard time saying "give me back my glasses, I can't see ANYTHING."  The surgeon (my boss) said that he was a hit and everyone was loving him.  Surgery went great but waking up did not.  He was a maniac.  I thought he was possessed by the devil.  It took 3 of us, including my husband to hold him down to get out his IV and he was screaming that he wanted to leave, but when we got to the car he decided that he didn't want to get into the car.  He was in his pajamas and wasn't wearing shoes and he was trying to run away.  We finally got him in the car, which was a struggle and took both John and I and we stopped to at a gas station to get Gatorade and ice cream.  The entire time John was in there Jackson was screaming to get him out of his seat.  He managed to get his arms out of his car seat straps and I then got out of the car and opened his back door to get him buckled in again and he started slapping me in the face.  I held his left hand that he was slapping me with and tried to get it back under the strap and he made a fist and punched me in the face with his right hand.....I couldn't believe that my sweet baby would do that!  So when John came out I let him try to get him back in and he punched John in the face too....so naturally I felt a little better about the situation.  We finally got him in his car seat and John went to get in his own car to go to work.  John then laughed and told me to have fun as he got in his car and I proceeded to give him the middle finger....mature is the word your brain is trying to find right now.

Jackson screamed the entire 20 minute drive home and then when we got there he decided that he didn't want to go in the house and wanted to stay in the car....yes, the car he so desperately wanted to leave just 20 minutes prior to that.  I unhooked his belt and he quickly got out of the seat and climbed in to the back.  I realized that I was going to have to climb in to my SUV and forcibly remove him from the car.  So I locked the car doors and quickly ran to the house and unlocked the front door and threw the bags inside.  I ran back out to the car, the entire process took about 45 seconds and he had climbed into the front seat and up onto the dashboard and was in a little ball against the window screaming "you can't make me go in."  So I then forcibly removed him from the car and took him inside.  I texted John that I needed and Xanax for me and a priest for him as I was sure we would have to do and exorcism.  He was inconsolable.  I thought ice cream would make him settle down and at least sit but instead he got mad that it wasn't in a cone and picked it up with his hand and threw it at me and then climbed under the coffee table and cried for 30 minutes.  I have never seen anything like this.  Then he literally snapped out of it.  He stopped crying, and looked confused and crawled out from under the table and climbed up on my lap and hugged me and kissed me and asked me to hold him and he was a little angel for the rest of the day.  He even asked me why we were at home and when we got there.  He doesn't remember any of it.  Crazy! 

This one is a little laugh for my friends and family in PA.  I was taking Dominick and Jackson to see a musical and John made a comment about getting them a little culture.  So on our way to Casa Manana Dominick asked me what culture meant.  I started to explain to him that the word culture could be used in different ways and during this I said something about other countries.  Dominick then interrupted me and said "by other countries do you mean places like Ohio?"  I responded by saying "well, alot of people, especially your Uncle Garrett, believe that Ohio is a third world country, but actually it's in the United States."  So my brothers mission is complete....he has talked badly enough about Ohio that a 7 year old thinks it doesn't even belong in the US.

Here's another example my mother's craziness.  First it would be helpful to know that last year Dominick was wavering with his belief in Santa.  He was saying that he didnt' think there was a Santa, but we stood our ground that we all believe in Santa and that his friend or whomever said that was wrong.  So now, back to this year.  I get a bunch of packages on my doorstep from UPS.  I opened a couple that I knew were for the kids from my brother and sister-in-law and a couple that I knew were for John.  But there was one that I was unsure of so I left it in the original box and when I was talking to my mom I asked her about it and she said to open it.  She said that she got it because last year we had a non believer and maybe we could hang this by our Christmas tree to remind him to believe in Santa.  So I open it and immediately start laughing and asked her what we were believing in?  Santa or the beach?  This is what was in the box.

So I describe it to her and tell her that it looks like wood and has glittery starfish on it and all she keeps saying is "that's so stupid" and "that's really gay."  So I asked her if she even looked at it and she said yes, but the picture was little.  She's too much.  I then sent her the above picture with a caption that read "if this doesn't make him believe in Santa, I don't know what will" and she sent me a text that said "OMG...No wonder it was on sale.  I'm going to have to start using my good eye." 

And finally just to get you in the Christmas spirit I wanted to share with you a flyer that I saw for a Christmas Party hanging on a refrigerator.  The top had all the information for the party and the last couple lines were dress code.  I took a picture:

Well, that picture sucks but it says "Dress to impress!  Casual without looking homeless.  No wife beaters!  No saggy pants.  No oversized clothing.  Seriously people....I can't make this shit up.  But on a side note, I thought wife beaters were "casual without looking homeless."  But apparently I was wrong.

Until next time....

Shhh...it's our little secret.

OK people, please don't tell her that I said this, but I'm pretty sure that I'm turning into my mother (Gasp! Clutch Heart! Say it isn't so!)  And while we're keeping secrets, don't tell my husband or brother either, because they are constantly saying this and I'm constantly denying it and I don't want to have to admit that they are correct.  Those words literally taste like vinegar leaving my mouth when I have to say it to them.  I'd like to continue to deny it, but I'm afraid that this post is going to prove it.  I said that I wasn't going to blog about myself, but here I go, doing it again. 

I think that discussing what I did while getting ready for my brothers wedding would be a good place to start.  To set the scene: It was a busy morning.  Jackson slept horribly the night before and didn't get to bed until after midnight because his belly was hurting.  Everyone wakes up in good moods.  The boys go off to the Football Hall of Fame (I was totally jealous) and the girls head to the reception hall to set up center pieces and such and to get our hair done in the brides room.  I didn't bring my stuff to get ready because I thought that I would have to take Vettori back to nap, but the little angel napped there.  So we stayed and helped longer than we thought.  Around 1:00 p.m. my mom, Vettori and I headed back to the hotel to meet the boys and get ready.  They were trying to nap so I did what I could in the dark.  We had to be back for pictures at 2:30 p.m. since we are all in the wedding.  When they got up we got them into their tuxes and Vettori into her dress.  I went to put on my dress I realized it was in my mom's room.  So I ran up and got it and it was very wrinkled from being in my carry-on bag on the plane.  I read the tag and it says "cool iron when necessary."  I say to my mom that I'm afraid that I would burn a hole in the dress and I asked her to set the iron for me.  She sets it and I start ironing.  We're chatting and I get through the back and then turn it over.  It turns out that my mom set it on the highest setting and it took about that amount of time to get hot.  So when I put the iron on the front side by the pocket, it burns a hole in the dress....this was approximately 1:50...40 minutes before pictures.  I gasp and kinda yell "I just burned a hole in my dress" and begin to panic.  My mom then looks at it and gasps herself.  Luckily my mother is a very handy person who doesn't panic and thinks quickly, so she tells me to call the front desk and ask for safety pins or a sewing kit.  And they had a sewing kit so my mom went to work.  Thank goodness or I would have been wearing jeans and boots...I didn't bring much else and I don't sew.  But I am now motivated to learn.  I do find it ironic that I can suture people and do on a regular basis, but I'm intimidated by a dress and a sewing kit, but I digress.

Today  I took some pictures of the dress the way that I wore it and then I undid the thread and took some pictures of the hole for your enjoyment.  It is once again very wrinkled from being in our suitcase on the way home, but you get the idea.

Here's the dress after the patch job.  You can hardly tell, right?

  

A close up of the fantastic job my mom did.

And here's a couple of the hole. 

         Yes, it is singed and crusty around the edges....sexy is the word that you're looking for.

We had a ton of fun at the wedding and reception and all was fine, but it was a close call.  I am not blaming this on my mom (totally) because how can you be holding an iron and not realize that it's hot?  Totally my fault. 

Example 2: On the day of Jackson and Dominick's last baseball games we spent all morning at the ball fields.  Jackson's Tball game was at 9:00 a.m. and Dom's coach pitch was at 10:30.  Sometime around noon or so we start loading up the car.  It was getting hot so I take my cell phone out of the pocket of my sweatshirt so that I can put the sweatshirt in the trunk.  I place my cell phone on the roof of the car.  I put my sweatshirt and the baseball stuff in the trunk.  While I'm getting Jackson buckled in John shuts the trunk and gets in the drivers seat.  I then shut Jackson's door and get in the passenger seat.  We are on our way home (approximately 15 minutes later) and the phone rings.  I ask John if it's his phone or mine.  He says his but I go to look for my phone anyway and it hits me.  I turn to John and say "I think we have a little problem."  I tell him that I left my phone on top of the car and he just shakes his head and laughs at me.  We turn around and go back, but it wasn't in the parking lot or at the desk.  On the bright side, we have insurance and when I called to get it replaced they upgraded me to the 3D phone.  It's pretty cool.

The Sunday before last the Steelers were playing the Ravens.  It's sometime in the 3rd quarter and we've been watching from the beginning.  So to say that I'm very invested in the game is an understatement.  They scan the crowd and lots of terrible towels were waving and I look at John and say "there sure are alot of Steelers fans there."  And he responds, "that makes sense since they are playing in Pittsburgh."  I just shook my head and said "you're going to tell my brother that I said that aren't you?"  And he replied "of course I am."

And last but not least.  Way back in July my brother turned 28.  I sent him a birthday card, but instead of putting his address on it, I put my aunts address.  He has never lived at that house.  It would be kinda understandable if I put my parents address...but my aunts....no clue why I would do that, except I'm losing it a little.  I'm a mere shell of my former self.  I'm pretty sure that during my pregnancies I lost brain cells that I can never get back and I'd be willing to bet that these kids continue to suck more braincells from me daily. 

Who would have thought that the irreversible brain damage didn't happen due to all of the alcohol I consumed in college, but instead by those tiny little humans that call me mom.  Amazing really....especially if you knew me back then!

Until next time....

You're not a girl....you're a mommy.

Have I really not blogged since September 2nd?  For real???  I don't even know where to begin. 

Jackson has had some funny  moments recently.  The other day he was laying on the couch and John was sitting beside him and he started to kick him, not hard, but that annoying little kick over and over again.  John tells him to stop and he doesn't.  So I say, "Jackson stop kicking your dad."  He responds "I'm not kicking him, I'm pushing him with my feet."

Jackson is very into Jake and the Neverland Pirates on the Disney Channel.  He was a pirate for Halloween.  We play Jake and the Pirates all the time.  He has quite an imagination.  He assigns us characters.  He is always Jake.  John is always Captain Hook (which Jackson pronounces Cackan Hook).  This way they can fight and he can yell at John.  Vettori gets to be Izzy...Jake's cute girl sidekick who wears a pink bandanna and hoop earrings and cute boots.  When I ask who I get to be he always assigns me Cubby...a short, kinda chubby little boy who is inept at most pirate things.  Really Jackson?  When I ask why Vettori is Izzy and not me he says "because sister is a girl."  What?  I say I'm a girl and he says no you're a mommy.  I say well I'm not a short chubby little boy and he laughs, tells me I'm silly and says that I have to be Cubby.  Then he proceeds to boss me around and yell at me "Cubby row my boat" or "Cubby go fight Cackan Hook" or "Cubby go get me the treasure map."  And the list goes on and on.  When Dominick is at our house I typically suggest that Dominick be Cubby and Jackson says "no he can be another Jake."  Seriously?  So I usually ask if I can be another Izzy and he tells me no because Izzy is a girl and I'm a mommy.  At least I know my role....and apparently so does he. 

Jackson took his role as pirate for Halloween very seriously.  He was so proud of his costume and very excited that he got to wear it 3 days in a row.  I'm sure we'll be wearing it again soon to the grocery store or who knows.

Here's a cute one of all of them together.   We had the cutest little double scoop of ice cream, the best pirate and the coolest rock star out there.

I was going to get Vettori a little pig or elephant costume because I thought it was super cute since she's a little fatty.  John told me that it was child abuse and it would give her a complex when she's older.  He asked if they were out of crowns and pretty dresses for his chubby baby princess (his words, not mine).  But when I saw the double scoop of ice cream I couldn't pass it up.  Well my cousin's husband apparently doesn't think that those costumes were child abuse because she dressed her daughter, who is Vettori's age, as an elephant.  She also got both of her daughter's ears pierced when they were little babies, which John also thinks is child abuse, so I'm hoping he doesn't call CPS on them...they are 2 for 2 now.

(Sorry the pic is so blurry, but it didn't transfer well from the text message)

Hope you had a Happy Halloween!  This was the most fun Halloween so far.  Jackson was beyond excited about his pumpkin that we carved and Dominick shared his enthusiasm.  They had fun at the pumpkin patch picking them out. 

Their smiles and enthusiasm continued all the way up until it was time to blow the candles inside the pumpkins out at the end of the night on Halloween.  They loved dressing up (3 times) and trick or treating and going to their school Boo Party.  I'm sure it's only going to get better as Vettori gets older and joins in the excitement.

This is them inspecting the pumpkins and fire. 

Even after we went in they were looking through the window at their works of art.

Until next time.....

Have you ever bit your earlobe?

My husband and I rarely fight. We typically have a discussion and make a decision and we move on. We do bicker....for lack of a better term. I used to get onto my parents for bickering all the time and now I do it too. I notice that my brother and his fiance do it as well. I think that it's because it's hard to live with a boy and the result is bickering. Although I am related to the other 2 examples that I used, so maybe it's us, but I really don't think so. I'm pretty sure it has to do with sharing space with someone who has a penis. Anyway, bickering is not the point of this post. It has more to do with the "discussion" that my husband and I had the other day when we were 1200 miles away from each other and talking on the phone. The discussion began many months ago when I wanted to get my daughter's ears pierced and John did not. Since he wouldn't go with me I said I would get my mom to go with me. I think he thought I was bluffing because that is not how we normally deal with disagreements. The last time that my mom was visiting us in June we were very busy and I completely forgot and the same thing happened when I was in PA a couple of weeks ago. Well this time I did not forget and this past Sunday I decided to go do it. I was on the phone with John right before we left and as I was getting off the phone I said I have to go because we're getting ready to leave. He asked what we were doing and I quickly said "my dad needs to go get ink cartridges, we're getting Vettori's ears pierced and getting a birthday gift for my aunt." I was hoping he wouldn't notice since he never pays attention to half our conversations. Not so lucky this time. He got pretty mad, but still managed to start out calm.  When I said I was doing it anyway, he began to yell at me. I don't remember the entire conversation but here's a couple of his big points:

--I can't believe you'd hurt our daughter for vanity
--You're telling her she's only pretty with jewelery on
--You might as well go get her Botox and a boob job
--They are open wounds and might get infected
--Since when is this marriage not a partnership?

There were alot more but those are the ones I can remember currently. I responded by telling him that earrings don't hurt and he's overreacting...probably because he doesn't have sisters. I also reminded him that I have 3 sets of piercings in my earlobe and 1 set in the cartilage, so I have more experience in this situation.  Plus, I got my ears pierced at about 10 months old as well.  This is when he reminded me that before I knew him he briefly had a tongue ring and it hurt like hell.  Yes, you read that right, John Jones had a tongue ring.  That's a whole other conversation that we don't have time for right now.  Anyway, I said that it's not the same and, of course, he disagreed. So I responded with "no your tongue has alot of nerves and your earlobe doesn't. Have you ever bit your tongue...it hurts...have you ever bit your earlobe....no you haven't.  So you can't compare the two." That's where the conversation went downhill fast.

Right about this time my mom puts a piece of chocolate in her mouth and while she's chewing it Vettori kisses her. She gets a little taste of the chocolate and goes crazy. She starts jumping up and down and licking my moms face and lips and trying to shove her tongue into my moms mouth. I start laughing really hard and John thinks that I'm laughing at him and he hangs up on me. Later when I compared getting her ears pierced to getting the boys circumcised (which also is purely cosmetic) he wouldn't hear it and said it wasn't the same.  He also told me that since it is apparent that we now make decisions with complete disregard of the other spouse, he's going to get a vasectomy and he'll find a ride home.  This is the 2nd time that a reference to him getting a vasectomy has come up in this blog.  It probably comes up 1 or 2 times a day in my house.  I'm beginning to get the feeling that he's serious about not wanting any more kids.  I can't imagine why.  After reading this blog and all of the shenanegans that go on in our life, I'm sure you're in total disbelief as well.  Who wouldn't want to add another child to this calmness and serenity that we call life. 

Needless to say, she looks absolutely adorable with her little diamond earrings.  When we got home he appeared to be over it.  He told Vettori that her earrings are beautiful and told me that I'm trashy for getting a baby's ears pierced but he still loves me.  However, now that I'm blogging about it, and basically rubbing salt in the open wound (pun intended) I'm probably in the dog house again.

In the first post of this blog I discussed how my mother tends to say silly stuff and mix up words and thoughts.  Since I posted that in January there have been many of these moments.  But this weekend, she had a really good one.  One of my parents friends was carrying Vettori and she was really loving him.  They have 2 grown sons, neither of which are currently married.  As Vettori is snuggling in to him, my mom says "it will be your turn soon to have a grandchild." And then she says "although, we may have to get him (their oldest son) a wife from the Internet."  Her friend says "like a mail order bride?"  And she says "yes, maybe a good Russian woman."  Then their are some comments made about the physical appearance of this make believe Russian woman.  And then my mom says....wait for it...."I hope you know German."  Everyone looks confused and I correct her and say I think you mean Russian.  For real Sue??  German??

She is not the only one that does this in my family.  I have a younger cousin (you know who you are) that frequently does this.  She has been know to confuse Cuba and Quebec.  But  my favorite is when she commented that she thought Okra would taste more fishy.  When her husband inquired why she would think that, she replied "you know, since it's whale."  He responded very calmly with Okra is a vegetable and Orca is a whale.  He is very nice and calm about it, as is my dad when my mom messes stuff up, however, my brother Garrett is ruthless.  Think before you speak in front of him.  My sister in law, Kristina, recently had a little blunder that is worth sharing.  I believe that they were watching TV (although he could have been studying for his Anatomy class, I'm not 100% sure), but regardless The Vulva came up in conversation and Garrett says "Oh, the vulva." Kristina laughs. So Garrett says "do you even know what the vulva is?"  And she responds "yes, it's the little hangy ball thing in the back of your throat."  No, that's the Uvula.  I'm pretty sure some of you are going to be googling vulva here in a minute and laughing out loud.

Until next time.....

Only brothers fight like that!

We take many trips to the zoo each year.  My kids love it.  Jackson refers to the zoo as going to see "his animals."  One of our trips to the zoo last year was very eventful.  We heard the lion roar and saw a rhino pee, but the part that my boys liked the best occurred with the monkeys.  One of the big monkeys was chasing a little monkey around...and you see where this is going.  Dominick was saying that they were wrestling.  The little monkey was not liking it and kept escaping and then the big monkey would chase her.  Finally he caught her and pinned her down right in front of the window.  All of the other parents were taking their kids away from the window, however, I couldn't get my kids to walk away.  They were laughing hysterically with their little faces and hands plastered to the window.  So I did what every good parent would do and I stopped trying to get them to walk away and I got out my camera and started taking pictures.  Don't judge me.  Dominick kept laughing at the wrestling.  But the best part came at the end when the  big monkey let the little monkey go and we had the following conversation.  "Mommy those monkeys are funny, they must be brothers" says Dominick.  I ask why he would think that and he says "only brothers would fight like that."  Through my laughter, I tell him "yes, you're probably right."

At the beginning of this year on one of our trips to the zoo there was a new baby monkey in the same cage that we witnessed the wrestling.  I think we may have seen that monkey being conceived.  I can't verify that, but I'm pretty sure.  We're going to Austin in a couple of weeks and plan on checking out the Austin zoo.  Hopefully it's just as entertaining.

Conversations with Jackson, or any 3 year old for that matter, are typically very funny.  He will argue with you all day about something that he thinks is correct.  The other day we were in the car and he made a comment about "his baby" (Vettori) and I misunderstood him and I thought he was saying that he was a baby.  So I said "you're not a baby" and he said "no I'm a big boy."  A few minutes later he says "I'm not a big boy, I'm Jackson Jones." I respond with "yes, you're Jackson Garrett Jones." He argues with me "I'm not Jackson Garrett Jones, I'm Jackson Jones."  I say yes you are and we go through this one more time.  I then say "I named you, I think I know you're name," and he argues "you didn't name me."  So I ask him, "who do you think named you then?"  He thinks about it for a minute and then puts his hand up and says "just don't talk to me" and turns his head toward the window.  Really??? Just don't talk to me???  I didn't think that we'd have conversations that ended like that for at least another 10 years or so.  I'm just not sure what to do with that. 

I tend to kill any plant that comes into my house or yard, but I decided that I am going try some gardening.  I'm not sure what grows when in North Texas, so I sign up for a seeds of the month deal where they send you seeds that will grow in your area each month.  Yes, I'm that lazy that I don't want to do any research or have to walk further than my mailbox to get seeds.  Anyway, when I get my first packets in the mail, I'm very excited and I show John.  His response is "I don't know why you would waste money on this.  You don't have a green thumb, you have a black thumb.  You are like the Grim Reaper of plants.  In fact, I think your black thumb even has it's own little tiny sickle."  Thanks for support honey!  Love you too.

Until next time.....

I hear brown nail polish is all the rage....

We had a ton of fun on our trip to PA this past week.  Jackson didn't want to leave.  He cried.  He asked to stay and then asked my dad to come with us to play with him and his Bubby (Dominick).  We had a wedding to go to on Saturday for a friend from college and it was a ton of fun.  It was great to hang with some old friends.  However, I decided to try and drink like I did when I was in college and that was a bad idea.  I'm definitely out of practice but the combination of open bar and college friends apparently makes me want to try for old times sake.  What is worse is that I was "slightly intoxicated" and wearing high heels and someone let me hold their 5 month old baby.  Not their best decision as a parent.

Anyway, while we were there, I had to get a new car seat for Vettori because she is getting too big for the one that my parents have.  While in Walmart looking at car seats, Jackson tells me that he has to pee.  We go to the ladies bathroom and he does his thing.  I'm standing over him to be sure that he doesn't touch the toilet.  He is concentrating on getting his pee in the toilet and all of a sudden I hear a "plop" noise and feel something warm on my foot.  I guess he got really relaxed because some poop snuck out and landed right in the middle of my foot and flip flop.  And a little got in his underwear that were around his ankles.  As he's still peeing I grab some toilet paper and grab as much off my foot as possible and throw it in the toilet and then immediately turn him around and set him on the toilet.  As he's finishing his #2, I go and hike my foot up into the sink....good thing I'm bendy.  I wash my foot and clean my sandal.  The entire time Jackson is yelling "I'm sorry I pooped on your foot mom!" and "my poop is in the toilet!" over and over again.  The lady washing her hands beside me is not making any eye contact with me...for obvious reasons.

I then run out and ask tell my dad to find my mom who is shopping and tell her to get me a pack of 4T boys underwear.  I throw his away because we have more shopping to do and I don't want to carry around dirty underwear.  My mom comes in the bathroom to help and Jackson keeps telling her "I pooped on my mom's foot."  He also tells me after I wipe him that there is still poop in his butt.  I tell him that he is all clean, but he persists.  So I have him bend over and there is a big wad of toilet paper stuck in there.  Fiasco is the word you're looking for.  Ladies are coming in and out of the bathroom and just trying not to laugh.  They kept giving us courtesy smiles and rushing out of the bathroom as Jackson continues to yell "I'm sorry I pooped on your foot mom!"  I can't imagine what they told their families when they got home.  If you start your story with "you'll never believe what happened when I was in the bathroom at walmart today," you know it's going to be a good story.  We were "those people" in Walmart.  Out of control I tell you.

On a cleaner note, when you ask Jackson what he did in school he will always tell you "I made art."  When you ask him what he does at Bible school on Sundays he always says "I made art."  When he says his prayers at night or the blessing during a meal he always says "God bless us and protect us and help us make art.  Amen."  He's so funny.  Apparently art is a very important part of his day. 

Although, we did just find out that his vision is very bad and he needs glasses, so maybe that's why he thinks he needs Divine Intervention during art.  Here's a picture of him in his new glasses.  Yes, that would be Vettori's large hair bow at the bottom of the picture. 

Until next time........

T.F. Jones

My husband and I have some pretty interesting conversations via email during the day (I said interesting, get your mind out of the gutter).  They usually start out with normal things like: I'm getting off work early or Do you need me to pick up the kids or What's for dinner?  Then at some point a sarcastic or funny comment is made and it just takes off from there.  I would like to share one of my favorites with you. 

Recently, I was not feeling well in the morning and got really sick at work after lunch.  The email (subject line:  Hey Babe, Just a Reminder) began as him reminding me that he had a late meeting and wouldn't be home until around 7 and some other mundane things.  And then proceeds as follows:

Me: Ok.  I was going to make salmon cakes for dinner, but I'm thinking about just grabbing something on the way home for Jackson.  Maybe tacos.  something easy.  I don't feel well.  Very nauseated.  Good luck with the meetings. 

John: Sorry you don’t feel well.  Don’t make anything special on my account.

Me:  (Totally JOKING!)  I didn't feel well this morning either....it's definitely a boy.  I haven't felt this way since my 16 weeks of morning sickness with Jackson :)  My best guess is that we can be expecting Hudson John sometime in March.

John: If that is the case I will love him just like the others, but will be scheduling my Vasectomy shortly after the first of the year when my sick time renews.  That being said, we might as well name him Jesus, or Trojan failure, whichever you feel is more appropriate.  J 

Me: I think that Trojan Jones has a nice ring to it.   Trojan Failure Jones, Trojan Jesus Jones or Trojan John Jones will work. 

Teenage and adult boys are not the only boys who act silly around girls.  Apparently it's genetically wired and starts young.  Friends of ours come over with their kids to hang out a couple of Saturdays ago.  Dominick (6, almost 7) was hanging out with their daughter who is 8 and very pretty.  They were all playing and at some point she comes downstairs and asks if I took Dominick and a girl to see a PG-13 movie?  I told her no.  She proceeds to tell me that Dominick said that I would take the 2 of them to see a PG-13 movie and not tell her parents.  And that I have done this in the past for him with another girl.  I think it's fantastic that he thinks I'm that cool!  Although I'm not.  But I'm definitely cooler than his dad in his book and at this point I'll take it :)  He also told her that a girl at his school went into the boys bathroom and kissed him....definitely looked down upon at his private, christian school.  He was really working it, trying to impress this older girl.  It's pretty funny. 

I also thinks it's funny that my kids don't quite get how the baby monitor works...basically that it's not a walkie talkie and I can hear everything going on upstairs over it.  This past weekend we were getting ready to go to the Rangers game for Dominick's birthday.  We were not taking Vettori because of the heat, so our babysitter was coming over to watch her.  She walks in the door and I hear, over the monitor, Dominick telling his friend about how pretty his babysitter is and how his friend has to go see her.  So they both poke their heads over the stairs and Dominick is pointing at her.  They go back upstairs and they are talking about how pretty she is and how they love her.  And then Dominick comes down to tell her that his friend thinks she is pretty and is in love with her.  Little boys are so weird!! 

Look out ladies...Dominick Jones is on the prowl....no one is safe!

At the Ranger game Jackson is very into the entire experience.  He loves it!  He liked the "Let's go Rangers" chant the best.  He kept yelling it.  At one point he stands up and turns toward the crowd behind us in Center Field and starts yelling Let's Go Rangers and clapping.  They start doing it with him and pretty soon the entire stadium is yelling it.  Jackson officially started the chant in Center Field!  He was so excited.  The look on his face was priceless.  I didn't get that one on video, but here's a little video of one of the times he was yelling it.  Sorry it's sideways, I can't figure out how to change it.  I know he sounds special, but that's just how he sounds when he sings or yells and it makes my heart smile he's so stinkin cute.

Until next time....

I'm too sexy for my truck

It's been fairly quiet in the Jones house over the past 2 weeks.  I am not complaining that's for sure, but it doesn't leave me much to blog about.  I guess in this case too little is better than too much. 

My SUV needed some work done and for some reason Jackson got it in his head that he broke my car.  First of all, he thinks it's his car that he lets me drive.  Just ask him, he'll tell ya.  I don't know why he thought he broke it but, he kept telling me that he was sorry and giving me hugs.  He would get this sad look and his shoulders would hang down and he would say I broke my car, over and over and over again.  It didn't help that he had a constant reminder with the rental.  My warranty got me a loaner car.  The only thing that they had on the lot at Enterprise to give me was a huge 4 door Chevy Silverado.  I blogged a few months back about how I am not the worlds best driver....this Silverado didn't help that situation.  I had to avoid drive-thrus and any parking spots that had a car on either side of me.  So we saved some money on Starbucks for the week since I'm too lazy and always running too late to go into the store but too scared to go through the drive thru in the beast.  And I got a little extra exercise from parking way in the back of parking lots.  It was really pathetic when I went back to CarMax to pick up my car and I tried 3 different spots before I actually found one that I could park in.  I looked like a hot mess.  But, I digress.  So Jackson is telling everyone when we walk into his daycare the first day that he broke his car and they are giving him hugs and kisses and telling him that it was probably an accident.  He's batting those sad, big blue eyes at them and his teacher has him sit on her lap for the lesson that they were doing.  He was laying it on thick.  Even his little friends kept coming up to him and asking if he was ok.  I think we're in trouble when he gets older.  

So I pull in the drive way in this truck and my husband looks at me and says "you look really sexy in that pickup tru'uck."  Totally redneck, yet totally sweet at the same time.  Step back ladies...he's all mine.

Last night we were all at the table having dinner and John was trying to feed Vettori and she wasn't really cooperating.  So he started to sing to her and for some reason he chose Say a Little Prayer for You by Dionne Warwick, from the movie My Best Friends Wedding.  He was singing it just like they do in the movie.  He started with "the moment I wake up, before I put on my makeup, I say a little prayer for you" in a normal singing voice and then proceeded to the "forever and ever" part in a very high pitched voice.  And the "would only mean heartbreak for me" was borderline screeching.  I was laughing my butt off.  Half the words were wrong because John makes up his own words when he's unsure, but he doesn't miss a beat, so you believe that they are correct.  Dominick and Jackson were laughing as well, but when John was done, Dominick said "dad, next time they have tryouts for those singing shows you need to go."  We laughed and John said that he was too old to make it on those shows.  And Dominick replied "that's too bad because you're a really good singer."  He was serious as a heart attack.  When he's in junior high, I'm going to be sure that John sings his friends that song and we'll see how good Dominick thinks his singing is then.  It would be much better if John would let me video him so that you can really enjoy the singing that we are regularly subjected to, but that's not going to happen.  So this little clip is going to have to do.

I do want to say congrats to Torie and Mike on the recent nuptials.  And congrats to the Sundie family on baby boy #3, Karson Daniel. 

Until next time.....

Milk and Molasses: Not just for pancakes.

I'm sorry to disappoint the 4 (or maybe 5) people who actually read this blog, or lack there of.  My husband has been giving me a really hard time that I do not do a good job at keeping up this blog.  I really have no excuse.  My goal at the beginning was to post once a week.  I started in January and this marks post #7 in as many months.  FAIL!  Oh well. 

We had a very eventful 4th of July weekend that extended into this week.  I think it may be best to breakdown this blog by day, beginning with Saturday, for ease of reading because there were alot of "events," for lack of a better term.

Saturday:  In the morning we had some friends that we don't get to see very often over for brunch.  It was alot of fun.  The kids played and we talked and hung out.  Great way to start the long weekend.  Little did we know it would be a rocky road from there.  We put the kids down for a nap and John decides to go to the gym to get a work out in while the kids are sleeping.  He comes home a short time later and as he walks through the door he ask "will CareNow stitch up my lip or do I need to go to the ER."  I look at it and immediately know that he needs to go to the ER and possibly needs a plastic surgeon to close it because of where on the lip it was.  So he heads to the ER.  Luckily, there are very few people there because everyone is out partying for the holiday.  He gets his lip stitched up and heads home. 

We have a party to go to that night, so we have a new babysitter coming over.  She is the daughter of my coworker.  She is a lovely young lady.  Very intelligent, involved in alot of school activities, volunteers at a diabetic kids camp, has her driving permit...but was no match for the Jones children.  We come in and the house is very quiet and John looks at me and says "something looks different."  She then says, "we had a little accident."  I guess that when she went upstairs to put the baby to bed, the boys decided to play hide and seek.  In the first 2 minutes of hide and seek, Jackson ran behind the chair and got his foot caught on the lamp cord.  Which then caused the lamp to fall over and shatter.  Dominick (the over exaggerator) says that "it was so loud!  You could hear it through the whole house!"  Vettori started screaming and Jackson kept saying that he had glass in his foot (he's totally OCD and a bit of a hypochondriac).  She cleaned it up and got the baby and Jackson to bed.  Dominick then proceeded to beg and plead relentlessly to stay up late.  She gave in and told him he could stay up until 9:15 but then in an act of pure genius she changed the clock in the living room by 30 minutes and at 8:45 told him it was time for bed.  Since Dominick can now tell time, he went right to bed thinking it was 9:15.  He was so happy the next day that he got to stay up late.  There is a name that we give to 3 hours with my 3 kids....birth control.  I guess that she's up for a challenge because she's willing to come back.

Sunday:  We get up and go to church.  We have lunch and go get fit for the tuxes for my brothers wedding.  Jackson was charming the pants off of the lady that was fitting him...look out ladies.  She actually said that we were so lucky that he is so well behaved.  He has them all fooled.  We go home and take naps.  Jackson wakes up and is screaming "daddy I pooped."  He not only pooped, but put his hands in it and touched his face.  John was referring to it as war paint.  John was so mad.  So now we have to regularly talk to Jackson about how we don't touch our poop....seriously.  We get Jackson into the bathtub and cleaned up and then head over to our friends house to swim and BBQ.  The Nelson family is really great to us and our kids.  We had a great time.  I made a new dessert called Funky Frito Frukies and they were Fantastic.  I don't know how to link another web page, or I would, so I guess you just have to look them up.  It's worth the effort...trust me.  Anyway, Dominick really enjoyed these and before we leave he goes into the kitchen and looks at the container that I brought them in.  It is a very big round plastic container that at one point held ready to bake cookies that someone sold for school.  He looks at Diana and tells her to be sure that she gives the container to me because it's his dads favorite bowl and he will be very upset if we don't get it back.  She laughs and asks what he eats out of this big bowl and very seriously Dominick says EVERYTHING.  As far as I know, John has never eaten out of this bowl.  I don't think Dominick really cared about the bowl as much as what was in the bowl.  I applaud his sneakiness in trying to take the dessert home with us without being rude, but poor execution.  He is too much! 

Monday: We go see Kung Fu Panda 2 and then head to our friend Nuggets house.  We have fun swimming and hanging with friends.  We decide to allow Jackson to stay up late and go see fireworks.  He's very excited.  I stay home with the baby.  The fireworks start at 9:30 and they are home by 9:45.  I ask why they are home so soon and Jackson tells me that he didn't like them.  He says "they are youd (loud) mommy and it was really dark.  We need a yite (light)....there were no yites.  I no yike (like) it."

Tuesday:  John goes to work and Jackson, Vettori and I go to the pool.  We had fun and headed home for lunch and a nap.  Jackson awakes about midway through his nap, screaming that his tummy hurts.  He cries nonstop for 30 minutes that his stomach hurts and he keeps asking me to rub it or kiss it and make it feel better.  He was refusing to walk and couldn't get comfortable laying or sitting.  It was breaking my heart.  So I pack them up and head to the ER.  It takes me about 30 minutes to get there with traffic and he cries the entire way saying "it hurts" over and over again.  Over the next hour while we wait in the waiting room, then go to triage and get our vitals, then get taken to a room and wait for the doctor he continues to cry and complain.  The doctor comes in and he calms down a little. He examines him and tells me that he's going to order and xray, urine sample and blood work.  We go for the xray.  The doctor quickly comes in and tells me that they are canceling the blood work and urine because they have found the problem.  He says and I quote, "he has a TON of poop in there."  So he orders an enema.  The nurse comes in and once again comments on the amount of poop and tells us that the normal Fleets enema "isn't going to touch the situation that he has going on in there" and they are going to have to use an old trick called a Milk and Molasses enema.  Yes you read that right.  Half milk, half molasses from the cafeteria.  I never saw that recipe on the back of the Betty Crocker box.  They wheel us into the bathroom and tell us that this works fast and furiously.  They start to do it and Jackson is saying "get away from my butt" which then becomes screaming "get way from my BBBUUUTTTTTTTTTTTT!"  It works it's magic quickly and he is immediately a different kid.  He starts jumping on the bed and showing us how fast he can run and how high he can jump and acting like a crazy 3 year old boy.  I will never look at milk or molasses the same again.  

That pretty much sums up our holiday.  2 ER trips and alot of crap.  Then yesterday, Jackson was jumping on the couch and came down on his face and got a nosebleed.  We are a huge accident waiting to happen.

2 ER trips in 4 days: $200
Babysitter: $30
New lamp: $40
Spending the holiday weekend with your family with stories to tell when they are older:  PRICELESS

As a parent you tend to say things that when taken out of context are ridiculous.  Recently I was cutting vegetables and Jackson asked if he can help.  I tell him "not right now because I'm using a knife, but in a minute you can help me make a Martini."  Really? 

Until next time.....

Summer teeth

Well, it's been a while since I've posted anything.  I've been busy, but I'm back!  It's hard to sit at a computer with this lovely weather we've had.  Texas in the spring is awesome.  Here's a look at the randomness that's been going on in the Jones compound.

Lets get right to it.  Dominick is losing his teeth...in no particular order.  It is super cute and borderline ridiculous.  He has summer teeth -- sum-er here and sum-er there.  He has one that I've been referring to as snaggle tooth.  Need I say more?  It is totally interfering with his speech and he gets a little embarrassed.  Case in point:  I am asking him how his baseball game went that I missed.  (Do note that his team is very good this year and Dominick has caught a pop up fly as short stop...rarely happens in 6 year old Tball and he hit a grand slam.)  He tells me all about it.  The conversation ends and a couple minutes later he looks at me and says, "we're not going to get feeded."  I then say, "honey if you're hungry I'll make you something, what do you want to eat.  And it's fed not feeded."  He then looks at me and in a huffy, annoyed voice and says "no, we're not going to be feeded."  I still think that he is talking about food and thinks we're going to starve him out or something, so I ask him to elaborate and he says "my baseball team."  What??  Total confusion at this point.  I consider playing charades, but he is getting more annoyed with me by the minute, so I resist the urge to say first word, sounds like and do the hand gestures.  Instead I ask him if there is a similar word that he could use that I might understand better.  His face turns very red and he says "my team isn't going to lose."  Oh!  Ha ha!  We're not going to get De-feated, I say.  He replies, "yes, I have a hard time saying that without my teeth."  It's very cute, but if that's not a redneck statement, I don't know what is.  It reminds me of the time that John's redneck aunt asked him if he was embarrassed of her and that's why he doesn't come around much and he responded "if we're going to have this conversation, you're going to have to put your teeth in."

I don't plan on writing about myself very often, but here it goes, don't get used to it.  I know that I'm not the best driver.  I've always thought of my driving skills not so much as bad, but basically "not so great."  I guess I was wrong.  When a 2 year old who only has you and his dad for a frame of reference basically tells you that you're a bad driver, I think it becomes official.  Most people would think that the fact that I have been in some sort of accident in every car that my parents have owned since I turned 16 including the red Pontiac twice (both my fault), both cars that they bought me including the white Cavalier twice (one my fault and one not), and 1 of the 2 cars that I have owned (so far so good with the current one I drive) that I would have come to this conclusion sooner, but I guess that I was in denial.  Jackson and I went to Lego Land on Tuesday.  It's about 30 or so minutes from our house.  In that time, I got cut off by a guy who was trying to cross 3 lanes of traffic, to which I laid on my horn and Jackson said "mom you scared me."  A little while later I hit my breaks a little hard when coming up on traffic and Jackson said "wow that was a close one."  And a little later when I was surprised by the crazy, ridiculous lanes/exit set up at 121 and William D. Tate due to construction and couldn't pick a lane and was that person that people were beeping at, Jackson said "Mum, why you drive like that?"  So I think it's official.  I could start sending out a mass email to everyone in DFW when I'm going to be out on the road so you can stay at home and protect you and your loved ones if you would like.  Apparently Jackson thinks I'm a hot mess behind the wheel.  Good thing I stopped texting while driving. 

Speaking of Jackson, he's the man of many faces.  We talk about it frequently, but it's hard to appreciate it unless you see it.  He won't do it on command, but he gives hilarious looks.  Especially the one eyebrow up and one down look--his mean look.  He gets the one so far up and the other so far down that it looks like it hurts.  He also has an ornery look, a sideways look, both eyebrows down furrow, and the list goes on and on.  Here's a couple caught on camera for your enjoyment. 

If that first picture doesn't make you laugh out loud, I don't know what will.  Here are some more....

I believe that the bigger the bow, the better the mom and you are not going to convince me otherwise.  Apparently, many people agree with me because the girl that makes these particular bows refers to this size as a mini.  I think it's just the perfect size for Vettori's tiny head and chubby face.

Happy Easter from the Jones family and our little Easter Bunny of Joy!

Until next time....

TSA should be renamed LOL. Even OMG would be more appropriate.

The Transportation Security Administration, better know as TSA, is in need of better equipment and manners in my opinion.  I should know better than to expect this from a government agency, but a girl can dream, right?  The TSA website states that they "protect the nation's transportation systems to ensure freedom of movement for people and commerce."  Apparently in some cases, this is protection from explosive latent baby formula. 

Prior to my most recent trip to PA, I looked at the TSA website to see how much formula I could bring on the plane with me.  I was traveling with Jackson (2) and Vettori (4 months) by myself, so I decided to do the single serve cans of Enfamil for convenience so that I wouldn't have to purchase water when I got there and have one more thing to carry.  This is what I found on their website:

 When traveling with your infant or toddler, in the absence of suspicious activity or items, greater than 3 ounces of baby formula, breast milk, or juice are permitted through the security checkpoint in reasonable quantities for the duration of your itinerary, if you perform the following:

1. Separate these items from the liquids, gels, and aerosols in your quart-size and zip-top bag.
2. Declare you have the items to one of our Security Officers at the security checkpoint.
3. Present these items for additional inspection once reaching the X-ray. These items are subject to additional screening and Officers may ask you to open a container.

I stop on my way to Dallas/Fort Worth airport and purchase the formula and have the receipt in my pocket.  So as we get to security, I remove our shoes and coats.  Fold up the stroller.  Take Vettori out of the front carrier and put the carrier with the shoes and coats to go through the xray as well as the stroller.  I also take the 4 cans of formula (4 oz each) that I have in a Ziploc bag out of the diaper bag and put it through separately as my way of declaring that I have it.  I then put the diaper bag and Jackson's book bag through.  We do this so often, we are a well oiled machine at the airport.  Jackson even knows where to stand and what to do.  We walk through the metal detectors and are told that they will do additional screening on my formula, which by the way, are in closed pop top cans.  So far all of this is going as they said that it would. 

Then things go south, FAST.  I am getting on our shoes and such and the male officer says to the female officer "I have ANOTHER positive."  The female officer tells me that she has to pat me down and that I can't put Vettori in the front carrier yet.  They make me put her in the stroller even though I make it known that she is too small for this particular stroller that I was using for Jackson, since she can't hold herself up well and there are no shoulder straps.  They tell me it's the only option.  The lady pats me down and says that I'm fine.  The male officer informs me that my cans (unopened) came up positive for explosives and they were now "his".  The conversation goes like this:

Me: I just bought them on the way here, I have the receipt in my pocket.
Him: I don't care if you bought them 5 minutes ago or 5 years ago, they are now mine.
Me: Can they be tested separately or can I open one for a bottle and you can test the contents?
Him:  I only need one positive to dispose of all of them and I already got it.
Me:  How do you expect me to feed my baby?  She is only 4 months old.
Him:  Where are you going?
Me: Pittsburgh
Him:  They have grocery stores in Pittsburgh.
Me:  No shit asshole, I'm talking about on the plane.  --right now your brain is trying to find a word to describe me and my actions at this point and I'm pretty sure the one you're looking for is Classy.
Him:  I guess she'll just have to be hungry.
Me:  Our plane is delayed another half hour, so you're going to make a 4 month old who ate 2 hours ago (10:30a.m.) wait until we land in Pittsburgh (approx 6 pm if there is no more delay) and then get our bags and get to a grocery store (at least another hour)?
Him:  These are positive for explosives and I'm disposing of them, so I guess so. 
He then walks away.

Here's the thing, they only patted me down, not the kids.  They didn't test my stroller, or even look at it for that matter.  They didn't look in Jackson's book bag or my diaper bag for anything "suspicious."  If my cans of formula are positive for explosives I would assume you would want to look at the diaper bag that I took them out of.  They just let me collect my things and move on to the gate.  Makes me feel safe.  Kinda gives me the warm and fuzzies.  Anyone using DFW airport when this guy is working has no reason to be nervous to fly the friendly sky.  Also, his use of the words "another positive" when speaking to the other officer leads me to believe that I am not the only one this happened to that day.  You think maybe the machine isn't working?

So I guess that everyone can sleep peacefully tonight.  The very diligent TSA officer derailed my evil plan to feed Vettori explosive latent formula in hopes that she would fart fire and ignite some jet fuel causing the plane to explode somewhere over Kansas catapulting us to Oz to see the Wizard.  I guess that I won't get those Ruby slippers after all.  On a side note, on the way back, the TSA people as well as the American Airlines workers in Pittsburgh were wonderful and helpful -- there's no place like home, there's no place like home :)

Until next time.....(cue the evil laugh....muh ha ha, muh ha ha, muh ha ha......)

I bet you can't fit your head in there!

Well, February is a short month and we're already on creative way to hurt my brother #2.  At this rate, we'll hit number 10 by summer.  Sunday was a gorgeous day.  It was 77 and sunny.  The boys played outside most of the day.  When I got home from work that day, I notice that behind Jackson's ear it was all red and there were cuts and scratches and I ask him what happened.  He immediately starts whining and holding his ear saying my ear-a my ear-a. 

The story goes as follows, John is in the house giving Vettori a bottle and the boys are still out playing in the back yard.  To say my yard is small is an understatement.  It is fenced in and about the size of a postage stamp.  We have a nice sized deck that is flush with the fence, except on the very end there is a gap.  And because our yard is sloped a little, there is a gap at the same end between the ground and deck as well.  In that area there are some large rocks underneath the deck.  John hears Jackson kind of whining and yells out the window to see if everything is ok.  He gets no response, but the whining stops.  A couple of minutes later he hears Jackson yelling, which turns to screaming very quickly and then after a couple of seconds stops.  He stops giving Vettori her bottle and gets up to go run outside when the door swings open.  Dominick informs John that Jackson got his head stuck.  We are still unsure if it was between the deck and the fence or between the deck and the rocks, but stuck none the less.  Dominick also tells John "don't worry dad, I took care of it."  He says he just pulled really hard.  Luckily he didn't take his ear off.  I wish I could have actually seen this all go down. 

There are many things about this situation that are disturbing to me, but there are 2 big ones.  First, what possessed Jackson to see if his head could fit there in the first place.  Second, what criteria Dominick is using to decide if he should take care of something himself or go get an adult.  I think that 'stuck head' falls under go get and adult, but that is just me.  One of my favorite quotes is "you have to be tough when you're stupid."  Because he's 2, it doesn't apply.  But if he tries something like this again when he's 12, which I'm sure he will, that's going to be my response.

So creative way #2 to hurt your brother is trying to help him get his head "unstuck."

Oldies, but goodies.  When Dominick was about 4 years old, we were visiting at my parents without John.  I was going to go out with my brother Garrett, his fiance Kristina and my brothers best friend Billy Deer.  Dominick is watching a TV show and about to go to bed.  My mom is joking with Billy to watch out for me.  That when I drink I get out of hand and I'm his date for the night, and therefore, his responsibility.  Let me correct that....I'm pretty sure she was joking.  Anyway, I give Dominick a hug and kiss and say good  night and as I'm walking away he calls me back.  I lean down and he whispers in my ear "if that boy tries to kiss you, punch him in the face."  I try not to laugh and assure Dominick that if Billy Deer tries to kiss me, I will most definitely punch him in the face.  I then ask him why he would say that and he says "grandma said that he was your date and daddy would not like him kissing you."  Too cute!

Until next time.....

Brrrrrr!

What is this white stuff falling from the sky, you ask?  It's snow!  And boy is it cold.  Super Bowl week was a bust because of the ice/snow/cold mix.  We went 19 hours without power at our home on the coldest day North Texas has seen in over 15 years, but that mess is a blog in and of itself. 

Why is this freeze in DFW happening?  There are many opinions.  Al Gore would say it's global warming.  Some people, myself included, think that God also hates Jerry Jones.  Some would say that all those Yankees in town last week brought the cold weather with them.  But my husband believes that hell has frozen over and we are getting the back lash and I think he's right.  What could possibly cause hell to freeze over?  Jerry Jones has vowed to never get plastic surgery again...not that's not it.  My baby slept through the night...not a chance.  The Cleveland Browns won the Super Bowl...no that was Green Bay.  My sports loving, cowboy boot wearing, big truck driving, helpless animal hunting, meat and potatoes eating, man's man of a husband bought a tiny little Jetta....Bingo!  Ding, Ding, Ding that's the winner!  I love the car and it's growing on him.  This is only funny if you know my husband.  He LOVES trucks.  The bigger the better.  He gave in and got a Jeep Commander last go around, but only because it had over sized tires and a V8 Hemi.  I think he can pick this car up and move it if necessary.  It begs the question:  Is that a Jetta in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?  It's amazing what happens to people when they become parents.  Before the only criteria for him buying a vehicle were:  Will my buddies think is cool and will the Chicks dig it?  Now it's gas mileage.  Haha.  I will do my best to get a picture of him posing beside his new ride to post on here.

I would say that the score now stands 2011: 2, Me: 1.  Because we are saving a bunch of money on car payment/gas, which can be put to good use like spa days and new shoes for me.  So I get a point.  Don't call it a come back, I've been here for years.   

I'm adding a new section to the Blog called 10 creative ways to hurt my brother.  We are going to begin counting the creative ways that Jackson tries or accomplishes hurting Dominick and vice versa and see how long it takes us to get to 10.  Numero Uno:  The boys have bunk beds.  Dominick on the top bunk and Jackson sleeps on the bottom which is very low to the ground and much like a toddler bed.  When he stands up, his head doesn't quite hit the top bunk.  The top bed his held up with wooden slats, which are made to be put in from the top with out the mattress on.  They can be moved from underneath, but you have to swing them out and it's a big pain.  Even more of a difficult task when a 60 lb boy is laying on the top bed.  But that is precisely what Jackson did. 

About 10 minutes after they go to bed, I hear a pounding noise.  I think that Jackson is kicking the bed or the wall.  I ignore it.  A little later, I hear Dominick yelling "Stop that Jackson, put that down.  You're going to hit me.  Put that down."  So I run upstairs and Jackson is holding this board (which is longer than he is) over his head and hitting the rail on the top bunk.  I'm not sure if he was trying to wake up Dominick or if he was going for blood.  Needless to say, it was impressive.  I'm not sure how he got it out with Dominick laying up there or how he was strong enough to get it over his head, let alone hold it there long enough to repeatedly hit the top bunk with it.  So creative way #1 is 2 year old with a 2 x 4.

Get out your tissues, we're going to briefly touch on the Super Bowl.  All I have to say is that I'm slowly getting over it and I still love the Steelers.  I keep telling myself that it's better to play like crap in the Super Bowl than to not have played in the Super Bowl at all.  Sunday could have been worse.  I could have been a Cowboys fan, or God forbid, a Browns fan.

I think Vettori's face says it all.  It's how all of Steeler Nation felt when the game ended.  A little dazed and confused.

Until next time.......
   

Toddler Hold 'em: Bring your best Poker face/ John Jones: A Jets Fan?

Every Dad has a "Dad Voice."  I love my husbands because his had a bit of a southern twang to it and when he's mad, one syllable words become two syllable words.  Such as, "Jackson, stop that na'aw."  It makes me smile.  Dominick, the oldest, is scared to death of the dad voice.  Just the thought of John being mad and using the Dad voice or showing his disappointment keeps Dominick out of trouble.  Jackson, not so much.  Jackson has more of a "call your bluff" attitude toward discipline.  It's kinda like he examines his cards and declares, I'll see your dad voice and raise you some screaming.  When this happens and Dominick is at our house, just seeing Jackson act that way in response to John gives Dominick so much anxiety that it looks like he could use a Valium.  All of this testosterone and the way they use it brings me much entertainment.

Most recently, Jackson has taken a stand against brushing his teeth.  He's decided that opening his mouth is something that he can control and he's not going to do it for a toothbrush...ever.  He and John have been going round and round with this every night for about a week.  John's takes the approach, if you will not cooperate, I will hold you down and make you because I'm bigger and stronger.  Jackson responds with more of a go ahead and try old man.  Most of this week Dominick has been at his moms, about 20 miles away, but I'm sure that while this is going on at my house, Dominick gets off the couch at his moms and goes to brushes his own teeth...just in case.  He probably thinks, I'm not sure why, but I get the feeling that I should brush my teeth.  He senses the dad voice, even that far away.

Here lies the difference between moms and dads (at least with boys).  This would go on as long as needed for Jackson to give in and John to "win."  Instead, after a couple of days, I went to Walgreens and bought a Spiderman toothbrush that flashes a red light for 60 seconds when you press the button.  It was $2.99.  Jackson now brushes his teeth morning and night...and a few times in between.  My way is not better, just faster.  Best 2 dollars and 99 cents that I've spent in a while.

Enough about Toddlers, let's talk sports.  This week John Jones will be a Jets fan.  Gasp!  This would be in response to how ruthless and obnoxious Garrett (my brother) and Billy (Garretts friend) will be when the Steelers win.  Do not feel bad for John.  He is just as bad to them and brings it on himself.  John will have to avoid Pennsylvania and any phone numbers beginning with area code 724 for at least 6 months if the Steelers win the AFC and if they win the Superbowl, he might as well just lay low until next years Super Bowl.  Him being a Jets fan actually works out well for those of us who bleed black and gold because he has been bringing bad ju-ju to anyone he cheers for this year.  Lets review:

1. The Cowboys:  if I hear "they have all the talent to be a great team" one more time, I'm going to puke.  When John attended a game this year I think he actually cried into his $12 beer.
2. The University of Texas:  They were embarrassing.  UT's loss is Cleveland's gain.  Come back Colt McCoy...pretty please.
3. He took Dominick to the Big 12 Championship game and was rooting for Nebraska...they lost to Oklahoma.  O-Who?
4 One Sunday after I made snide comments about the Cowboys, John declared himself a Ravens fan:  they lost that day too.  To which I comforted him by saying "I'm sorry both your teams sucked today."
5 Last week he was cheering for the hated Patriots and their whiner, pretty boy QB with the Justin Beiber hair.  Thank you cute little Mark Sanchez for taking care of them.
**On a side note, does anyone else notice that with long hair Tom Brady looks more like Gisele's brother than husband?  Kinda creeping me out.  But I digress.

The only exception are the Texas Rangers.  But I'm not sure that counts because, seriously, who saw that coming?  So if my lovely husband cheers for the Jest there is a good chance that his bad Karma will cause cute little Mark Sanchez to eat a can of Botulism for breakfast on Sunday.  Having to travel alone to PA with the kids for a whole year because John can't show his face is a small price to pay for a Steelers win.  John can probably hang out with Jeff Reed on Sunday.  I'm sure he's sitting on his couch, getting drunk, eating Cheetos in his green and white undies somewhere.

Until next time....

Happy Freakin' New Year

I'd like to start off by saying that 2010 was very good to our family.  I had a great pregnancy and delivery of our precious baby girl Vettori Grace and we only ended up in the ER with Jackson once for stitches.  Everything else is a blur. 

On 12/31/2010, while I was doing a Burgettstown Bar Crawl with John, my brother and sister-in-law, and some friends, I thought to myself: I know that 2011 isn't going to be the most glamorous year that I've had on earth.  It's bound to be filled with baby vomit and potty training woes.  And did I mention that I was starting it out by doing a bar crawl through B-town?  But I think it's going to be GREAT.  Maybe even my favorite of my 30 years on record.  And 2011 has responded...with a big F-U!  I almost feel like 2011 has challenged me to a duel and said "if you want it to be great, you're going to have to work for it."  In the short 12 days of this new year we have had Attack of the Viruses.  The same week that Jackson decided since this baby is here to stay, he might as well love her, he got hand, foot and mouth, which is a very contagious virus and not good for a 3 month old to contract.  Up to this point Jackson completely ignored his sister.  He acted as if she didn't exist.  Something happened a week ago and now he wants to kiss her and share toys with her and put her paci in her mouth for her (whether she wants it or not).  However, he really shouldn't be breathing on her, let alone touching her.  Explain that to a 2 year old.  So it's my 2nd week back to work after 3 months of maternity leave and I had to call in sick one day.  Nothing like setting the bar high.  I guess that Employee of the Year award will not be going to me.  Oh well, there's always next year.

In addition to that, I have come down with Shingles.  Two words: No fun.  No need to elaborate.  So I guess as it stands, the score is 2011: 2, Me: 0.  But that's ok.  It's not over yet.  There are 353 more days and I'm feeling a come back coming on.  I am discussing this situation with my mother and she attempts to make me feel better by saying, and I quote, "what doesn't make you stronger will kill you."  Doesn't give you the warm and fuzzies when said that way, does it?  For those of you who don't know my mom, she has a tendency to mix words up and say thing backwards.  It ALWAYS ends up being funny.  What is not funny is that I'm beginning to do the same thing.  Maybe it's a mom thing?  Or it's genetic.  Either way, I'm sure that my children will me making fun of me the way that Garrett and I do my mom. Thanks for the laugh Sue.  It really did help get me out of my feeling sorry for myself-funk.

On a funny note, while waiting in the very long line at Walgreens for my prescription for my Shingles, I noticed that Jackson had peed in his pull-up.  I start to talk to him about how he's supposed to tell me that he has to pee so that I can take him to the bathroom.  About halfway through this sentence he closes his eyes and begins to fake snore.  I calmly tell him to open his eyes because I'm trying to talk to him.  With his eyes still closed he tells me "I sleeping Mummy, SHHHH."  Thus ending our potty training discussion.


That is one of the many parts of parenting that I haven't mastered.  When you are trying to be serious and they do something funny.  I just laugh and move on.  I'm sure that's not what you're supposed to do.  Jackson is a very head strong 2 year old, to say the least.  Not sure where that comes from, hehehe.  When he doesn't want to listen to what you have to say, nothing short of Jedi Mind Tricks are going to get him to.  And I'm just not sure how to handle that, because I don't posess that particular super power.

On a side note, I also have a new cousin in the Reynolds family, Sadie Elizabeth Higgins, born 1-11-11.  Congrats to Mom, Dad and Big Sister Makenna.  I can't wait to squeeze that little butterball...not too hard, of course.

After 20 or so pictures taken, we got one with them all looking.  Enjoy!

Until next time....