Monday, November 30, 2009

He's a real boy

This morning as I was moving a load of Chase's clothes from the washer to the dryer, Harvey the train fell to the laundry room floor. It would seem that my little guy has reached the age at which little boys begin shoving everything into their pockets. Visions of the treasures I'll discover in the coming years are filling my head. Is it beyond unreasonable to hope that instead of finding rocks, marbles, and frogs, I might in the future find a lovely pair of earrings or a Starbucks gift card in my laundry? Yea, I thought so.

We've got snow!

We trekked on over to the lake on Friday for a short visit with the grandparents. After eating our weight in pie, we decided to take the kids out for a little romp in the snow. The miracle of these pictures isn't so much the white snow or how fast it melted, but rather that I was prepared with mittens, hats, coats and boots for both children since as you'll recall last year Chase had to wear mismatched mittens. I'm so proud of myself I could burst.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Visual Thanksgiving Guest List

We spent Turkey Day at Nana and PopPop's this year. In attendance, a Daddy & a Daddy's girl,

Myself, Queen of all lands touched by the sun,
David the uncle who tickles,
MomMom who was recovering from a nasty fall,
Gran and Shirley Temple,
Jenn and Adam--the none too patient parents to be,
Jan and Gary, the headless grandparents,
Oh, and those two gentlemen above...what are their names again? Oh yes, Trouble and Double Trouble. They sat still for about five minutes when Gran was helping them color, but other than that, they were constantly on the move partaking in multiple crazed adventures.
Like say putting on random boxer shorts. I'm not sure if this one is the regular or double trouble version. Regardless, I hope those were clean underoos.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Zoobilee Zoo

Welcome to Zoobilee Zoo! Does anyone remember that show? I still think of the episode where the cockatoo had peanut butter stuck to the roof of her mouth every time I eat a spoonful of that creamy treat

Anyway, the weather was perfect for a trip to the Reston Zoo on Sunday. I only have these pictures because the battery died AGAIN in the small, black camera. I'm beginning to feel like I'm the starring member of a comedy skit it's getting so ridiculous. But despite the lack of pictures, I can assure you that the children had a delightful time.

Amaya recently learned to say her brother's name, so all day long she chased (ha) after him calling "Chase, Chase". She did cease her stalking long enough to stop and say "hey" to strangers too. Little man didn't seem to mind his shadow of a sister as he was too busy enjoying feeding the barn animals and trying to play cars with the spider monkeys. He kept up a steady stream of chatter as he pointed out all the animals that Diego has rescued. Now tell me TV isn't educational.

I am pretty sure that little miss Amaya is going to at the very least consider some kind of profession that involves working with animals. The girl had no fear, only pure delight as she ran up to all of the animals. She charged after the swan and rooster, jumped up to reach the sheep, and tried to hurl herself into the habitat with the bunnies. Even the scary horned goats didn't phase her. I'm sure she could flip a sheep with no trouble at all, so maybe I'll try to teach her that next time. You know--put that Animal Vet Science degree to some use?

I love this picture. Andy must have been feeling the pressure as all eyes turned to him waiting for more food. Now he knows how I feel every day at dinner time.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

All the love, none of the drama

It's true, I'm a fan of Twilight. Not a crazed, Twihard who sports a Team Edward shirt and coats herself in sparkly glitter, but I did enjoy the story enough to read it several times and want to see the new movie as soon as it opened. Yes, I know the writing is not the best, but that doesn't really matter because Stephanie Meyer did such a fantastic job weaving the fantasy that you quickly forget that she uses too many adverbs while ignoring sizable plot holes. She created what so many of us want: an escape from our monotonous lives where we too can believe that we are special enough to win the uncompromising love and devotion of the hero.

Of course for me, it's a bit different. I don't read the books so much to escape as to remember how blessed my life is. You see, I am already loved. Bella's story reminds me in some ways of an over-dramatized version of my own.

Let's just look at the similarities--like Edward Cullen, Drew drives too fast. Sadly, he doesn't have the vampire reflexes to avoid a crash when a crazy van lady turns right in front of us. But he does use his very first words to turn and ask me if I'm okay. Only after assuring himself that I'm fine, does he unleash a string of profanities. His concern for me comes before his rage at those who would hurt me--very Edward, yes?

Like the Twilight hero, my Drew gives me expensive gifts like cars, houses and jewelry. When I tell him that I have somehow misplaced my wedding band, he doesn't yell or complain. Instead, he buys me a new one more blinged out than the original. When I change wallets and stumble across the one that I thought I had lost in the change section, Drew just shakes his head and says, "Oh Mellon."

I've never been almost flattened by a runaway van, but there was that one time when a stray cat attacked me. Drew rescued me from the claws and teeth and held my hand while the nurse administered the rabies vaccine by stabbing me in the head with a needle 100 times. Which when you think about it is just as heroic as stopping a moving vehicle with his bare hands.

Sure, Drew may not have composed any lullabies for me, but he knows to cheer me up with a chick flick when I'm feeling blue. He can't hear people's thoughts, but he reads my moods just as well as Jasper could. I only have to release a single irritated sigh and he knows that I need him to come fix some technological item that is making my life difficult. True he doesn't have to constantly battle the urge to drink my blood, but he does refrain from killing me when I tease him on the internet. He may have never had to save me from strangers in a dark alley or sadistic vampires, but he has come home early from work bearing coffee and cake to rescue me from pint-sized demons intent on driving me to the brink of insanity. No, he can't give me the gift of eternal life. But when I was headed down the wrong path, it was him who helped me see that what I truly wanted to do with the one life I do have was teach. Since I sincerely believe that loving one's profession is an avenue to staying forever young at heart, that's a better gift than being turned into a vampire.

So while my life isn't as exciting or fraught with danger as Bella's, I am the star of my own love story. Not to brag or anything, but I think mine is better. I mean, even though I'm sure they've considered it, his brothers haven't actually tried to kill me. So that's a plus. Drew's never left me for my own good either. He might say that's because of the 53 year contract that I made him sign, but I know it's because having him around loving me is what's best for me. So while I enjoy reading about Bella and Edward, I do have to say that they've got nothing on Mellon and Drew.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

I know, I know

but I have an excuse. No, really a good one this time. I'm exhausted. Seriously. That's what the doctor told me when I finally went to see her on Monday to find out why I'm so tired and get nauseous 50 times a day. And no, I'm definitely not pregnant, bite your tongue. The swine apparently can make you completely useless for up to a month after you have it, crazy right?

But please know that the my blog is not the only thing that I've abandoned--my house is a mess, my kids don't remember a time when Mama played with them instead of just sitting around all day, and my NaNoWriMo has been a NoGo. It stresses me out to watch all of these things falling apart, which of course only makes it harder for my body to recover. Vicious cycle. So anyway, if the time frame is accurate, then I have another two weeks of feeling that walking up the stairs is like climbing Everest. So since odds are looking like it could be another week before my next post, I'll leave you with these cute pictures from the Imagination Movers concert we went to on Sunday. Both kids had a great time shaking their groove things. The highlight had to be when when they got high fives from Rich--or as Chase calls him "Wrench". Good times.

Aunt Danielle made Chase his rockin Mover's shirt--I think he'd like to be buried in it.

I'm not sure what happened here with this picture, but it makes me nauseous to look at it. For real. Equilibrium is all jacked up. Darn exhaustion.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

News Bulletin

Children Between the Ages of 1 and 3 Have Seemingly Endless Energy

That was the headline on today's edition of the Mellon Times. Frankly, I am shocked that no one has reported this before. Those little buggers wore me out today. So here are the promised pictures with minimal explanation.

Amaya saw her Mama with the camera, so she came real close to pose.

Then she leaned against a tree like she was having a professional portrait done.

Meanwhile, Grandpa was throwing leaves on Chase.

Who then ran away hoping to engage Gpa in a game of tag.

Later, Amaya helped Grandpa recover from the physical exertion by making him tea.
The end.
PS--see that blurry spot on all the photos. It's a smudge. On the brand new small, black camera's lens. I tried to clean it, but it wouldn't budge, darn smudge. I'm beginning to think that it's bad luck to own small, black cameras. I would advise against carrying one when you're walking under a ladder or stepping on sidewalk cracks. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Monday, November 09, 2009

It all depends on how you define well

As most of you know, I've been feeling a little under the weather the past few days. I think it was the flu, but seeing as I refuse to visit the doctor unless someone physically drags my sorry behind there, I can't really state that diagnosis as fact.

Whatever it was came on suddenly Wednesday with body aches, chills and head pain. And extreme fatigue. Like didn't want to walk from the chair to the couch fatigue. This continued through Thursday. On Friday, I woke up with a super painful sore throat and a horrible cough, but the body aches were gone and I had fewer chills. I also got very dizzy when I tried to stand up. Saturday, the throat was better, but I was still coughing and only had half a voice. Sunday I pretty much had just the cough still no voice. Which brings us to today--less cough, less chills, still half a voice. Still physically tired--I can walk up the stairs now, but I have to stop at the top to catch my breath.

Concerned citizens have been asking whether I'm well yet. I'm not sure if their concern is for me or if they're wondering if it's safe to come near me yet. Regardless, I don't really have an answer for you. It all depends on what you consider to be well.

  • If your definition of well means that my cough sounds like I'm only a chain smoker instead of a chain smoker who also happens to be infected with tuberculosis, then yes, I'm well.
  • If your definition of well means that I only use 50 tissues a day instead of 100, then yes I'm well.
  • If your definition of well would include someone who forgets to put the detergent in the washer before starting a load of germ infested sheets, then yes I'm well.
  • If your definition of well would include someone who buries herself in her snuggie on a 74 degree day and still feels cold, then yes, I'm well.
  • Finally, if your definition of a well person would include someone who read the directions 4 times and still ended up with this for dinner:

then yes, I'm well.

So there you go. Well or not, I have pictures from the grandparents' visit this weekend that I hope to share tomorrow. Until then just imagine me wrapped in my snuggie, eating my matzo ball soup and sucking on my cough drops. A vision of health.

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

Can I keep him?

A few weeks ago, the rental company that manages our original lake house told Drew that we had bats living in our attic. I didn't really think that much about it since the house is surrounded by trees and next to a lake. You tend to to get visitors of the animal persuasion in your home when it's smack dab in the middle of their habitat. Plus, there was that time we found a dead baby bat in the kitchen sink at the new house. Sad.

I guess Andy had arranged for someone to go clear them out because when I woke up this morning, I found an email from him that contained a picture of the type of animal that had actually been squatting in our house. It certainly wasn't a family of bats.

Isn't he cute? Of course, that isn't a picture of the actual flying squirrel that had made his home with us, this one came from But, I'm sure our little guy shares similar physical attributes to the one pictured. Andy thinks that if I were to come back as an animal, it would be as a flying squirrel. I wonder if that means he'll let me keep one as a pet?

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

One of those days

Some days, being the mama requires the mental energy equivalent of the kinetic energy needed to shovel a driveway that has been buried in 4 feet of snow. Today was one of those days. Trying to accomplish the simplest of tasks felt to my mind like a marathon would feel to my body--not that my body will ever need to worry about feeling such things, but you get my point right? The constant whining demands of Chase mixed with the blood curdling screams of Amaya to fill 80% of my day. By 3pm I had nothing left to give, so I put in a 911 call to Drew. Bless the man for coming home an hour early.

Are you wondering about the other 20% of my day? Well, 18% went to their 1.5 hour nap during which I cleaned the kitchen, worked on laundry and enjoyed a cup of coffee while watching Gossip Girl. And 2% looked like this:

When 2 minutes later, Amaya tripped and fell setting off another 15 minute scream-a-thon, I had to convince myself that the earlier slice of peaceful play my children had engaged in had not been a mirage. Truthfully, without the photographic evidence, I'd still be debating the moment's existence.

Yep, today was one of those days. Here's hoping tomorrow will be better.

Monday, November 02, 2009

Invasion of the Body Snatchers

Today, Amaya and I were extras on the set of a science fiction movie. No, not really. But it did feel that way when we were sitting surrounded by little kids wearing masks in the waiting room at the doctor's office.

I do believe it is possible that another life form has taken up residence in Petunia's body and is growing inside of it. How else to explain how ridiculously big she's becoming? She weighed 26.4 pounds putting her in the 90th percentile and was in the 97th percentile for height at 32.5inches. What was truly surprising though was that her 18inch head only placed her in the 50th percentile. Surprising because the original 12-24 month sized Halloween costume I had picked out was too small for her head. Apparently, that company only makes outfits that fit on 10% of the appropriately aged population. Had I known how little she would actually allow the headpiece to be on her noggin, I would have just kept the too small costume. Live. Learn.

During the visit, Amaya got 4 shots. Tonight she is cranky. Cause and effect? Perhaps. But additional factors leading to the crabbiness include the four teeth that are at this very moment digging through her gums clawing for the surface. She doesn't get a tooth here and there, not my daughter. She cuts quadrateeth. At least now I have something concrete to curse when she's fussy for the 17th hour in a row. Dadgumteeth.

She did put the fuss monster away for a bit during her play date with Emma and Mikey on Sunday. As long as I stayed near and no other mother tried to touch her without her permission, she was fairly happy. She didn't have any problems sharing her brother's toys with everyone and even took special pleasure in showing her friends how to work Handy Manny's tool box.

But then we had to go and change the plan by trying to take a picture of everyone sitting on the sofa. Not only that, but Emma's mama touched her. Have you ever heard of anything so terrible befalling a chicken? What choice did she have but to unleash a crying jag of record breaking proportions?

What is it with my kids and group pictures? I mean really? As if I needed any more future blackmail material.
I guess that she could blame it on the alien that has taken over her body. That excuse will work. Once.

Hey, did you know

that November is also National Blog Posting Month?

NaBloPoMo participants agree to create one new post a day for the entire month. Kind of a shorter version of NaNoWriMo. Sounds like fun, right? No, I'm not crazy enough to actually attempt that on top of the 50,000 words I've already assigned myself this month, so don't go going and getting your hopes up or anything. But maybe next year...

As for now, check back later today or tomorrow for stats from Amaya's fifteen month check up and pictures from her play date with Mikey and Emma.