claire can't see me.

a mom who is cooler in words than in life.

Archive for the little people

dinner time tales

amiia: jordan was fighting again today, mommy.
me: what happened?
amiia: well he was yelling at parker. he was yelling “YOU LYIN ME”
me: what?
amiia: yeah, he kept screaming out “YOU LYIN ME”
me: hmm..
amiia: i didn’t jump in their business but i did whisper to myself.
me: what did you say?
amiia: *with her pointer finger extended upwards* fragment sentence.

yep, i’ll keep her!


i’ll yoke a kid if i have to…

we’ve been preparing for the first day of school all summer. practicing our teachers’ names, brushing up on studies, and, most importantly, learning how to be awesome without apologies or approval needed  from peers.

yesterday the drill was over, first day back to school was in full effect. both of the girls were excited to wear their new clothes & cool kicks. we did their hair in “big kid” styles with roller set curls. they were ready to take over.

this confidence disappeared for miia when she walked in her classroom & discovered that her first grade enemy was not only in her class but SITTING RIGHT NEXT TO HER. i saw her hesitate before she took her seat. i saw her coolness crumble. so what did momma bear do…..? walked up to the girl & told her “you better be nice to my kid”. was that the grown up thing to do? probably not. & i hope she does go tell her raggedy mother so i can have a face to face conversation with her about her grown ass child picking on kids at school.

what mattered to me the most was amiia’s face when i said that to her “bully”. she gathered herself, strengthen her spine, & took her seat like a champ.  her end the day report was good. she said the girl left her alone the whole time.

she better had!

amel had a great day, despite a minor incident of getting left in the class bathroom while the teacher & students left the room to tour the school. my child was left to wander the hall looking for her class. i would have been upset, except this kid has been walking these same halls for 3 years already. she knows every-which-a-way to go to get around. she chose to play lost. never underestimate the middle child.

in mommy news…i’m having guilty pleasures at home. i’m closing the blinds and watching horrible chick-flicks that i rented from redbox. ie twilight, 17 again, he’s just not in to you….

don’t tell anyone.  or i’ll yoke you up too.

jon minus 9

what a sad show. the girls took it pretty hard. not their girls, but my girls. then i had to explain what a divorce was & take an hour of questions pertaining to what would happen if ant & i went down that road.

do i have to choose who to live with?
will you & dad still love each other?
will i have an evil stepmother?
can i have some ice cream?

i want to hate jon. natural response, i’m sure. hate the dude. but then i thought why be ordinary, let’s defend jon. so i went into watching the show ready to back dude up, tell him snatch back his nuts & be a man! BUT, he made an ass backwards comment that made every ounce of possible understanding drain from my heart. “i’m only 32…” WHAT? AND?

now what? now that you’re getting a divorce, you’ll magically not be 32 & obliged to those 8 kids? you could be 42, 22, 82. if you have a child, or eight, them crumb snatchers come way before YOU & your freedom. so what are you excited about? what opportunities wait on the other side of the courthouse doors that got you so “excited” about divorce? another declaration of your youth perhaps?  a tattoo, some more earrings, a new collection of trendy be-dazzled bad-ass t-shirts? really?

i know i don’t know the whole story, just the half that fit perfectly into the story arch created by the TLC people. but, unless you were reading a script…the words you choose were your own. people aren’t supposed to be excited about having to pack up & leave the comfort of watching their kids grow up every moment of the day. so, nope, you gets no love from me. i don’t care if she shat in your oatmeal everyday & bickered you to death about eating it. to your kids, you’ll always be the one that left. & it doesn’t matter what i think of you. but in case you were wondering, you’re a douche bag. not for leaving,but  for thinking that leaving was the answer to fulfilling bigger aspirations.

to you 19 folk…

…that stopped through today, i have three things to say to ya’ll.

1. hi
2. thanks
3. enjoy the show

so, yeah. i still haven’t found 2 hours of time to enable me to watch part one of che. i’m hoping that somewhere between the office & the staircase i’ll find enough spare time to buy me a few minutes of that movie. come on, del toro! how could that dvd exist in this house without me watching it? & it’s been here for about four days already. i’m slipping.

in other shocking news, i cut the grass today. well technically, i cut one section of the grass (he started & finished the rest) but i did accumulate enough sweat to give myself some lawn care credit. so yeah, go me. mind you, this is only shocking to folks who know that i HATE sweating. not just my sweat, i hate all ya’ll sweat too. & spit. & snot. & whatever else that comes in liquid form from bodies. i have somehow managed to get through raising three babies past the diaper phase without puking on any of them. this is a proud accomplish in this household. so when i mention that i was sweating, you’re supposed to ohhh & awww over my triumphant victory over self.

somehow, i sense you are not ohhhing & awwing as needed….so we’ll move forward.

took the baby ladies to the museum today & then walked around downtown in search of ice cream (which we found!). then we made our way over the park, where the girls started climbing up this rocky cliff thing & i was taking pictures, until….

amiia: mommy, what does clem-bah mean?
me: i don’t think it means anything.
amiia: then why does that sign say “don’t clem-bah the rocks”
me: girls, get down.
me: & the word is climb, miia, the b is silent.

well folks, that’s my time.

i’ll be here all week.  🙂


my princess baker

my princess baker

ruin the cookie or ruin the girl.

these are the choices in life.

my second born loves to bake. mind you she’s six, so her love of baking comes with a lot of egg shells in the mix & flour on the floor. i, on the other hand, hate mess. not on some OCD stuff. believe me, there are plenty of dust elephants (way bigger than bunnies by now) around in the corners to prove this. but a messy kitchen just irks my inner soul. so me supervising & her partaking in her love do not go well together. but it must be done.

that’s the thing with raising kids. everything is a lesson in life. a stepping stone to who they will become in their future. every spilled cup of milk can either teach them that they are clumsy fools or it can teach to accept mistakes in stride (& with a mop). i know this because i’ve watched my oldest spill milk & crumble because she knows that i’ll be coming around the corner with a frown. i’ve seen those apologetic shoulders hold up her head. there’s something so heart breaking in seeing a child with their head hanging down in shame. this is not what i wanted from my kids.  this is real life parenting. seeing your mistakes take form in an future adult can be devastating. but again…that spilled milk thing. either i can just accept that i’m a horrible mom. OR, i can realize that the way i’ve been going about things is flawed & change it up (with patience & practice).

so….i force myself to sit in the kitchen & watch her bake. i force myself to watch flour float like pixie dust on to the wood floors below.  & i chew past  the crunchiness of eggshells. & i smile. because i have to. i have to look at the kid in front of me & imagine that this moment will give her what she needs as a happy adult, a fulfilled woman, a human being that reaps the rewards from having the courage to take the risk & get a little messy.

i can live with less-than-perfect cookies & floors & kids. & a glass of milk, preferably not spilled, goes just right.

from me to you.

it's worth the mess.

that's ant stealing a cookie.


For Cookies:

1 cup all purpose flour
6 tbls unsweetended Dutch-processed cocoa powder
1/2 tps of baking soda
1/2 teaspoon of salt
10 tabls of softened unsalted butter
1 cup sugar
1 large egg
1 tsp pure vanilla extract

Make Cookies:
Combine flour, cocoa powder, baking soda and salt. Cream sugar & butter in another bowl with electric mixer on medium until fluffy. Add egg and vanilla extract & beat until smooth. Stir in flour contents until combined. Divide dough in 2 equal parts, then shape into a log about 9 inches long. Wrap in plastic and put in fridge for AT LEAST to 2 hours.  

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.Slice cookies into 1/4 inch rounds and put on cookie sheets leaving 2 inches b/w each cookie. Bake for about 6 to 8 minutes. Let cool on cookie sheet for 2 minutes & then on a wire rack to cool completely about 10 minutes.


1/2 cup of unsalted butter, softened
2.5 cups of powdered sugar
1 tsp of pure vanilla extract
1.5 tsp of water

Cream the butter & sugar with an electric mixer until combined. Stire in vanilla and salt. Add the water and beat on high until fluffy, about 5 minutes.

Spoon 1 tsp of the filling between the cookies.

(recipe from mom’s big book of cookiesby lauren chattman)

oh snap, one more thing.

Three years ago, this week, I walked into my home with my son in my hands. After waiting 60 days to be “mommy” instead of “baby jackson’s mother”, he had finally gained enough weight & did enough tricks for the hospital to give him free.

the kid

the kid

Yesterday, on the way home from school, he was in the back seat singing Lions, Tigers & Bears. & it sounds like “i not cared of yions, and tigurs and burs but i acared of yovin you.”

Three years later

Three years later

What better way to begin my adventure in living than with that memory.