Thursday, October 30, 2008

It's become an obsession

*Two ugly chairs at garage sale (in sturdy yet hideous condition)
Cost: $20

*Bold fabric (in navy and white, a new favorite lately)
Cost: $40

*Beat up entertainment center (solid wood) from Mom & Dad

Cost: FREE

*TWO Old 1980's bookcases from Mom and Dad

Cost: FREE

*Paint, supplies, new trim piece to make bookcases and entertainment center "match"

Cost: $40

*Recycled hardware from Walmart furniture (that served as our loyal and atrocious entertainment center for the past 4 years, rest in peace)
Cost: FREE

*Extremely hot husband who helped every step of the way

Cost: numerous nights anxiously awaiting a phone call during dating phase, having to shave legs on a semi-regular basis, attempting to match his attractive-ness, childbirth, and the ever cliche picking up wet towels and clothing off of the floor every morning.

*The satisfaction of knowing you've created your family room entertainment with:
a dash creativity,
a smidge of team effort,
and loads of memories mixed, painted, and nailed in...


(I'll be sure to post pics once I actually fill the bookcases with goodies as well. Stay tuned. I'm not even close to tiring of this new furniture flipping kick...)

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Uh oh

It has begun.

I forgot about this stage...

The Mom-will-continue-to-clean-in-circles-because-I-am-a-crawling-tornado stage.

But- a darling tornado. I've found that Heavenly Father sends in the troops with a counter attack of cuteness just around the time you begin contemplating auctioning your child on Ebay. Brilliant.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Happy Halloween

LiTtLe Bo PeEp...

has LoST her

aND doesN't
Know WhEre To FiNd Them...

thEm AloNe

anD they'll come

their tails behind them.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Hey there lovaaa

You hate my blogging. Well, hate is too strong of a word. You are extremely complimentary of anything I record. But, when I complain of what I consider to be an excessive amount of all-things-sports infiltrating our little home life, you quickly counter with:

"Well, you're a blog-aholic. Why don't we start adding up the amount of minutes you are randomly swallowed by the office computer?"

Point taken. And, I'll have you know that the girls are napping as I write this. My guiltometer is in full throttle functionality anyways, so you simply confirmed what I already know I must keep in check.

A couple of years ago, I canceled my guilty pleasure magazine subscriptions to US Magazine and People. While I shivered with anticipation to see the face of a Britney Spears meltdown or Jessica Simpson's latest outfit staring back at me from the fresh pile of my Friday afternoon mail, I had noticed an odd, eery feeling that would consume me for a good thirty minutes after flipping through the glitzy pages. Comparisons. Envy. Dissatisfaction. Fiction. Facades. Nothing I've ever had much of a taste for. I wanted to commit to live in MY life, and as long as I was reading constantly about the ridiculous details of others lives, mine wasn't being given its full savor. And oh boy, its a rich life worth every tasty morsel.

The epiphany is applicable to blogs as well, I guess.

I will read them. I love entering other people's day to day activities. But the comparisons stop now. And my life will not be imbalanced with them - cross my heart and hope to....remain in control and balance my own beautiful journey.

Time to practice what I just preached. Lily just woke up and climbed into my lap. So, I'm off to savor the warm cushy goodness of a post nap cuddle on the couch with Ms. I-wake-up-grumpyhead until she fully re-emerges into reality.

And for the blogging record, I'm still obsessively in love with you, and can't wait till you get home tonight.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

The Big Twurd

Lily came bolting around the corner yesterday...

Down around one ankle hung her Strawberry Shortcake panties, nude buns in full fledged motion as she ran yelling:

"I gotta poooooo! I gotta pooooo!"

Alerted to this cry, and with a response of sheer joy at this proactive approach to the potty, I dropped my dishwashing duties and hurriedly followed after her in full sprint, waving my arms while yelling:

"Yay! Lily!!! Good Girl!!! You go! Run, run, run! To the potty!! Yay!!!!!!"

She ran to her glorified throne, (a REAL child size porcelain potty, plumbing fully connected and all - cuz when you've got a "Pop" who owns a plumbing business, you get hooked up with these sorts of luxuries) sat down, and with a concentrated brow declared:

"I gotta do a big twurd mom, a big twurd."

Me: "What? Excuse me Lu, what did you just say?"

"I gotta do a big twurd, mom."

Me: "Did you just say the word 'tird'? Did my darling girl seriously just say 'big tird'?"

I still have yet to find the person to whom I owe a hearty thanks for their efforts in the expansion of my daughter's vocabulary. I have a sneaky suspicion he sleeps next to me.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Oh No you Di-ent!!

* Warning, content of this post is not suitable for children. Because thanks to the world we're living in today, apparently NOTHING is anymore.

And when you say it you have to raise your hand in a frontal palm waving motion, and end it with a snap of your finger...make sure your face is a mixture of half twisted anger while rolling your eyes / half shock.
Repeat after me:

"Oh Nooo, you Di-Ent!"

o yeah folks, I'm pretty peeved right now. So peeved I'm going to part company with usual approval from my mother and say I'm pissed. Really, really pissed. And nothing offers a more enjoyable blog-read than someone on a completely personal's like a never ending sentence that splinters into a million different tangents, leaving you feeling somewhat confused and a little bored, wondering, where did all of this come from? Well, I'll tell you where it came from:

It all started late Wednesday evening, after the kiddles were tucked soundly into bed. Bored, and awaiting the return of my hubby, I began channel surfing the 8pm television events. As I perused the titles, I was flabbergasted to see the current MTV show "Sex with Mom and Dad" on the title page.

wHaT tHe fLiPpitY fLiP fLaPping fLooT?

Well, had to check it out. Basically, the premise of the show goes something like this: Child is a total whore and tells overindulgent and immature parent where/when/how they commit multiple acts of self destructive and dangerous sex. Parent and child go to a therapist who helps to teach the child that sex requires "protection"...and everyone pats themselves on the back.

The next show line-up was titled "Man and Wife", ( I have to admit total shock and hope/confusion as I thought MTV might actually be airing a show even associated with the word marriage) another explicitly provocative show where an excessively obese couple lie in a bed on a stage and dole out sexual advice to a large audience.

Up next: The icing on the cake: A little rap/hip-hop video they played in between segments, where a large group of young African American CHILDREN are all flipping off the camera, middle fingers high in the sky....CHILDREN.

Moral of the MTV oh-so-progressive story (I believe their mantra is "think"):
Obey your every animalistic whim, wear a condom, and go Fbleep yourself (children included).

"Oh No, you Di-ent."

Having we lost our freaking minds? I'm sorry, but teenagers behaving like humping monkeys with a TOTAL lack of supervision from parents who would rather seem cool than protect their children is completely unacceptable, and just teaching them "protection" doesn't cut it. (ps, protection is an oxymoron in this circumstance : go ahead sweet daughter, disregard your basic genetic wiring that predisposes you to seek emotional connection and bonding and try to fill the void with baseless sex with males that have no intention what-so-ever of developing a lasting relationship with you - because you're just not worth it to them. It will make you a "stronger" woman. Just look at me, your mother...I've done it the same way and look how strong we are. We live in a shabby apartment in the ghetto and you've grown up without a father. I am even missing teeth. But, here is a condom to "protect" yourself, because I'm your mother and I love and want what is best for you.)

And I'm all for self-expression and an open discussion attitude towards the topic of sex (I think I'm the only person I know who actually blogs about it...hopefully that doesn't make me weird.) But, a gargantuan man in his heart-colored boxers and business socks standing on stage poking at his wifes improporptionally gargantuan breasts spilling out of her nightgown gives off an air of...oh....what's the word....hmmmm.....Fat, disgusting, inappropriateness.

And last but not least, the icing on the cake: Children, with their middle fingers in the air. Do these babies even know what that means? Of course they do! They have MTV.

The fact that the American public even allows for this sort of programming is a disgrace. Why don't we just drive our kids to a cliff and shove them off...forget warning them that just because their friends might be doing it doesn't mean they should. We'll even provide you the vehicle to make the dive more speedy and fun.

Isn't there some sort of "Mothers against complete television bullS*h*t masked as tolerance and progression" club I can join? For pete's sake, where have all the mothers gone? Cuz I'm ready to start picketing the streets. Yeah, that's right...with my long french braids and pioneer dress to boot.

"Oh No, you Di-ent."

he next night, Tyler and I cozied up to watch our favorite Thursday night line up. The office, a treasure. And SNL thursday night was an additional treat. We cozied up in bed and before I knew it, I was ready to throw my Hot Tamales at the screen.

I love SNL, especially during the political season. If I'm up to speed on the current events, I love good political humor, even if I don't necessarily agree. Jon Stewart is hilarious and a favorite of mine, but good gracious, I don't agree with much of what he says. I preface by saying this so the reader can be aware that the reason I starting screaming at the television screen had nothing to do with party lines or being liberal vs conservative. I can laugh at the Sarah Palin skits as heartily as someone like Rosie O'Donnell would. But this Thursday's skits weren't funny. Ridiculously biased...and not funny.

This week's attempt at a laugh crossed the lines. Not only is the make fun of John McCain versus make fun of Barack Obama ratio something like 10:1, but there are some places American citizens shouldn't go.
Some things should be off limits, some things don't merit a laugh.(9/11 would be a good example, i.e you're never going to see a skit of people jumping out of buildings to promote humor.)
I'm tired of seeing them poke fun at John McCain's age and gestures to the point of depicting him as a decrepit old lunatic. I don't care your political standings, NO Americans should poke fun and laugh at physical attributes that were caused from being a PRISONER OF WAR for our country.
Is this how we treat our veterans? Is this how we even treat our elders? Of course it is, this is America: where youthful looks trump wisdom and age, where the new is always better than the worn and torn.
There is something to be said for the way the man "hobbles" around the town hall stages, or how he can't raise his arms properly because of the torture he suffered....and it doesn't deserve laughter. Make fun of his policies, make fun of his smile, make fun his running mate...but don't you dare make fun of the fact that he might be an older, more experienced WAR VETERAN! One that fought and was tortured for his country! Nobody, regardless of party lines, can dispute that.

Poor form SNL. And you deserved the hot tamales thrown at your face.

No wonder this generation has just catapulted the biggest financial national/global crisis of our time. We are credit mongering, disrespectful, innappropriate, immoral, spoiled rotten citizens that allow our children to use their middle fingers. Citizens who make fun of our elders/veterans and former prisoners of war. Big flipping surprise. My great grandpa would be ashamed. And so would yours.

And so, I conclude my rant. I promise I'll be more pleasant and hopeful in my next post, so please, don't ban my blog forever. I just wish more people would freak out at their televisions, throw tamales at SNL, and give their teenager a good hearty spanking when they hear of their sexual behavior. That's what will be occurring at the Haack household on any given Wed/Thur night. But at least, throw that front palm in the air with a snap and exclaim:

"Oh No, you Di-ent."

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Photo shoot

Family photos are such a double edge sword for me.

On the one hand it is a memorable snapshot, a flittering glimpse of the eternal beauty of a family. Sound evidence of the happiness permeating my life.

On the other, they are utterly fraudulent.

Ahh, would ya look at that PeRfEcT LiTtLe family!?

Thankfully, there are no sound bytes attached:


"Smile,Lily, or else you're not getting a fruit-snack. Tyler, why are you holding her so high, she's going to be towering over us! For the love, let's try and balance it out here!"

"Look at the, stop...don't look at the camera...look natural...NOW look at the camera...why are you squinting like that? It's going to look like you're blinking."


"Why do you have to be so crazy?"


" Someone's got to be crazy otherwise we'd have a bunch of pictures with Squinto-the Warrior King."

London: "WWWaaaaaaaaaaaa"

ONe, tWo, ThRee Sssssmile! cLiCk.

The photos are the proof. None are as perfectly posed as I envisioned. None as portrait straight and hair untouched as I prayed they would be. But, their imperfections are beautiful...and yes...I'll dare to say it:

I think my family iS PeRfEcT. For me.

Mixtures of black and whites vs. color : Which one do you vote should be the Christmas card this year?

This year HoNoRaBle MeNtiOns:

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Checks and balances

Make a check. Find my balance.

London was wearing a D-string the other day (diaper, size in the size that newborn infants belong in, not a chubby ten month old that tips the 95% percentile for weight : that rumps requires size 4). We ran out of diapers and I hadn't managed to get to the store yet. So, for the morning her buns tightly swallowed the only diaper I could find wedged in the back corner of the closet. We made an immediate run to Costco for diapers and arrived home in time for lunch and naps. By dinner time, I picked up London to find her little jeans soaked through. You see, her D-string had leaked...yes, because I HADN'T EVER CHANGED HER OUT OF IT.

Check: You are a bad mother.
Balance: I fed her organic green beans for dinner. And kissed her. A lot.

A few months ago, I volunteered to grab my little sisters from school for my Mom. While driving home through my neighborhood, little sister sassy attitudes and dirty looks seemed to infiltrate the vehicle. Such is the life with pre-teen sisters. I was in the middle of a mini-lecture while driving parallel to little boys who were on the side-walk, making their way home from school. Suddenly, one of the boys bolted in front of the car to cross the street to his house. Sccreech, I slammed my brakes, and in the heated anger of the moment that was one part little sisters driving me crazy/ one part I almost killed a child because he didn't bother to 'look both ways' before crossing,
I muttered : "Stupid little boy!" under my breath (well, technically slightly above my little sisters could attest). These words had barely escaped my polluted tongue when I witnessed the reason for the boy running: an effort to quickly meet up with his handicapped toddler brother happily limping out the front door of their home excitedly to see his older brother. This is a true story.

Check: You are a bad person.
Balance: There is no balance. You are a bad person. And shamefully and stubbornly hanging your head without an immediate apology to the girls for witnessing such a pathetically hypocritical debacle in the middle of your interrupted lecture regarding "showing some respect" doesn't help the situation either.

October 1st is my best friend's birthday. It really helps to remember that before October 2nd.

Check: You are a bad friend.
Balance: My signature "Happy Birthday" song via voicemail, along with much deserved groveling and apology.

My husband frequently calls during the day, just to be sweet and say Hi. Too often, I've picked up with something like this blurting out: "Hurry up.. I have Lily and London in the bath and Lily is splashing water all over the floor." Not even a complimentary "Hello sweetheart" in return. It's a sad day when your husband begins responding to your voice with phrases like, "Yes, Maam."

Check: You are a mean wife.
Balance: Can't tell you about that. Let's just say I've got my ways of "restoring the peace".

All day, every day...this list. Do(s) and Don't(s). Successes and failures. Checks and balances. Some days I'm winning, others I'm losing. But always, I'm trying.