A NON-PARTISAN BLOG POST - No, I swear, it really is.

Last January I made a resolution to blog once a week.  My passion is writing.  My passion is writing funny stuff that is based on reality.  My reality.  I have been so busy that I have forgotten how to blog - I write them in my head all the time - just never get pen to paper - or fingers to keys since it is actually almost 2013.  Next year.  Next year will be different.  I will try harder.

That said, this past election has inspired me to blog.  Because I have a damn good idea for next time.

So, take the red and blue map away and ignore the square footage of our country.  Let's pretend for a minute that an election is based on what the people want and not the electoral college (insert heavy sigh from blah blah blah we need the electoral college blah blah blah type sticks in the muds) and you find that almost every election is - for the sake of argument - split down the middle.  Some small town in rural O-H-I-O might make up the difference one way or another.  Whatever.  But here is my point.  We, as a country, are SPLIT DOWN THE MIDDLE as to what we think is the right thing for said country.  One side thinks they are right.  The other side thinks they are right.  One side thinks the other side is stupid.  The other side thinks that side is stupid.  Name calling.  BAM BAM SLAP CLICK SEND and we have a war on Facebook.

[Note:  I would NEVER get into a political argument on Facebook.  *straightens halo*]

[WHAT WAS THAT LIGHTNING BOLT?!]

[Anyhow.]

So forget trying to do away with the electoral college.  Let's do away with the entire system altogether.

Now, listen.  I never read the Hunger Games but from what I have heard, I think they might be onto something.  What if each side called up an "opponent" per se.  "I, Tami Walsh, call up you, Mitt Romney, to fight to your death for our country on the White House lawn."  Yeah, this would take place just outside the Rose Garden.  Hells yeah.  So each side calls up a guy.  And here's the thing.  They get to bring people with them that represent what they want/think is right for the country.  So, like, Republicans can bring military generals and budget guys and Democrats can bring gays (not hating, just stating - and I know a bunch of awesome gay guys that could take a military general down in a heartbeat) and Nancy Pelosi.  I know, right?  Good fight!  They also have to bring the most embarassing guy (or girl) that is in their party.  So Republicans will bring the guys that are jacking off other guys in airport bathrooms and the Democrats can choose between the Clintons.  (side note:  I saw Bill Clinton speak at a Club Trip for my husband's company and I have to admit - I like the guy.  A lot.  Kind of how I like George Bush.  A lot.  Would like to have dinner with these guys.  Nice, kind, smart.......  Hey! Stop making fun of George.)  

Dinner would be lovely.  *daydream*

Ok, back to the presidency.  So here we are on the White House lawn and these guys are standing there.  Ready, set, go.  And they fight to their death and, ultimately, we have a new president.  And a bloody mess (not the UK kind, the real kind) on the lawn but in this illusion there is staff that takes care of that.

Oh! Oh!  It would also be funny, if there were bleachers set up like a high school football stadium and one side started yelling stuff like "Tastes great!" and the other side responds with "Less filling!"  Only one side would be yelling "Stop Hate!" and the other side would be yelling "Less Spending!"  Anyhow .....

It's an interesting concept.  I don't really want anyone to die.

We need a change in the system.  We do, as a country, need to be able to work together.  I'm not going to lie - I voted for Mitt Romney because I thought he was the better choice.  The end.  And I was ticked yesterday.  But today is a new day and here is what it boils down to:  As a country we NEED to succeed.   If you are a democrat, you need to work hard to prove the republicans wrong.  They (we) want to be proven wrong because it means OUR COUNTRY will succeed.   Republicans need to keep on keeping on.  Fighting about which side is right will never work.  Let's put that effort into making our country better.  God Bless America and Goodnight.

Now, I need to be getting back to Facebook because I think there is a debate I haven't weighed in on yet.

Would You Like to See My Peacock?

For Hallie's Halloween costume 2 years ago I decided she should be a peacock. Might be the dumbest decision ever. I thought I'd share it because it was the most expAnsive costume I have ever made (and I want to pimp it out on Pinterest). I did buy the tutu dress from some site on etsy (wish I could link it here but can't remember the name!) but thought making the feathers would be the easy part.... um no. I wish I had a progress pictorial to show you how I did it. But I don't. So I'll just tell you and you will have to use your imaginations... (I am still recovering from the glue gun burns.)

First I bought a turquoise fairy wing set. And some black boa feather things. And 5 zillion peacock feathers. Who knew those were going to be SO expensive? Then I alternately glued the feathers long and short on both sides and put the boa feathers at the bottom to hide the stems....

Now, I am trying to erase the mental images of us walking to the pre-trick-or-treat party at my neighbor Pam's house when she said she wasn't going to wear the feathers and I sent the boys on ahead of me so I could, through gritted teeth, tell her oh-yes-she-was-bless-her-heart.

In my opinion, the cutest part of the costume were the chucks on her feet. Now I am stuck with a 3 foot wide set of feathers and no where to store them. And I can't get myself to sell them.

Here is a close up of the back:

And of the front:

And, of Darth Vadar. Note the feathers. Oh right. Sometimes arguing with a toddler is SO not worth it.

Happy Halloween - just a couple months early. ;o)

Am I Turning into My Mother? Part 1. {Nike is Driving Me to the Poor House.}

Let me set the scene.... it was 1985-ish... Michael Jackson was going to be my husband [Billie Jean was NOT his lover], my spiral perm was fresh [my hair is thick.... spiral perm was awesome], my preppy handbook said my name was Tiffy, and I really wanted Guess jeans. I can remember wanting them so bad. I can still picture how they were hung on the rack against the white wall at Marshall Fields that backed up to the escalator. Facing forward. Lit up like heaven had shined upon them.

ME: Mom, I like totally really want this one pair of jeans...

MOM: What jeans?

ME: Guess. They are totally rad.

MOM: Jordache? Sergio Valente?

ME: No. Guess jeans.

MOM: Levis?

ME: Levis? Gag me with a spoon.

This is kind of how it went with my mother. So I took her to Marshall Fields and showed her the jeans. I could pretty much talk my mom into most things over time so I was sure I would go home with those jeans. I had the outfit for school on Monday picked out in my head - I had this super cute purple Forenza sweater I planned to wear with them. I can, to this day, remember how it felt to want those jeans so bad. And I can remember, to this day, how it felt to go home without that $50 pair of jeans.

MOM: $50 for a pair of jeans?

ME: *tears well in eyes*

MOM: No way.

My mom was the mom who bought the IZOD shirts at garage sales and took the alligator off and sewed it on my polo shirts from JC Penneys. You know your mom did that, too. Oh she didn't? Whatever. But I knew, deep in my heart, she was planning on buying those jeans that way and taking the triangle patch off the back and sewing it on my jeans from Kohls or wherever.

I never did get the Guess jeans that year.

So here we are, like 15 (*cough25cough*) years later, and I actually said these words. Out loud. To my totally rad pre-teenager.

"$12.00 for one pair of socks? That you will put a hole in in a month?"

These socks.

There is no way to fake these socks but I'm not going to lie. I did think about it. And I have some pretty strong feelings on this sock look the boys are going for these days.

This is the look I am referring to:

And here are my thoughts:

1. Boys. Socks pulled halfway up to your knees with slides [people over 40: slides are the current day version of the flip flops the soccer players used to wear so they didn't ruin their cleats] or tennis shoes [people from the south: tennis shoes are sneakers] is a look you will regret in 20 years. Your future children will make fun of you the way we make fun of my dad for wearing socks with his sandals.

Sidenote: There are no looks I regret.

*slowly creeps out of room*

2. I am already getting ripped off by Nike when I pay $19 for a 3 pack of black socks. That are the wrong socks. (Refer to above picture for wrong socks)

(2 1/2. I know you are still thinking about my big hair and, well, yeah, that's Bill Rancic and me at a date party. We were married. Watch out Giuliana.)

3. How are socks sick? "These socks are sick, mom." Do they have anything contagious I wonder?

[Here I am going to digress. I like to think of myself as a pretty cool and hip mom. Saying I am a hip mom does not make me cool OR hip. It makes me old. I don't get why things are sick or phat or beast. I mean, I *get* it ..... I just think it's stupid. I got swag, I am phat but not fat, my jeans are sick (now that I pay for them myself) and my personality is beast. Word.]

4. Who decided these socks were cool? The ones you had to have. Did some 12 year old mother f-er walk into Dick's Sporting Goods and find the most expensive pair of socks and say these are the socks that are cool and I will tell the world (probably via Twitter because I don't twitter and wouldn't know if this happened) that they are the only socks that are cool and if you don't wear these specific socks, you are a total douche. (Douche is a cool word for dork. For realz yo.)

5. TRUTH: I am going to buy these socks. And I am going to go broke buying these socks. The younger two will have to forgo braces because I will have spent all that money on socks.

6. These socks better not disappear in the washer/dryer like all the other socks do. Or, for $12 per pair, they better come with some sort of tracking device. Like a find my iSock™ app or something. (I don't think iSock™ is trademarked but if it's not, I'm going to invent it so I put that there to protect me. What?)

All I know is that raising kids in today's age really socks. It's really hard to draw the line (onthebackofthesock) in what they can or cannot have. I guess socks are the least of my problem and I should be thankful ..... he'll probably be asking for a corvette when he turns 16.

Um, no.

I Have the Fever & I Hope it's Not Contagious! {A blog about Motherhood and Justin Bieber}

So let me set the scene. The family, decked out in our Packer gear, is holding our breath as we watch the Packers "play football" against the New York Giants on Sunday night for the chance to advance to the NFC Championship game and eventually the Superbowl. I got a lot of flack for looking past this game with the Giants and onto next week with the 49ers. Truth is .... it is my job to anticipate who we will play, if we win, and wish for one team or another team to win/lose and it is the players responsibility to worry about the current week. Apparently we all were looking ahead. But I digress as this is not a post about how bitter I am that the Packers lost last night. Or depressed. Or just in a funk. It's not about my Pack Fever at all.

It's about my BIEBER FEVER!

*cough* *sneeze* Sorry. Hope you don't catch it.

So last night (*coughafterthePackerschokedandwelostasupercriticalgameagainstthenewyorkgiantscongratseliandteamcough*) we flipped on netflix because really? Who wants to watch the Giants celebrate? In Green Bay? And what better of a way to take our minds off of The Green Bay Packers than a movie entitled Never Say Never - the Justin Bieber Story. (This might not be the real title - but it's the one I'm going with because it's damn close and I'm too lazy to do a google search)

The boys? Not happy. NOOOOO! NOT JUSTIN BIEBER!!!! DAD!!!! MOM!!!!!! Even Hallie (THREE YEARS OLD) was saying "I hate JUSTIN BIEBEH!" Um yeah ... sure you do copycat. So in an effort to get them to watch this movie with us we threw in a card game.

OK, now, being a 40 something woman with 3 kids - none of whom are girls between 7-13 who adore the Biebs - I really did not know much about this kid. I did admit this past Christmas that I think he has a very nice voice - even after he [allegedly] went through puberty. I also think he was blessed with some very good looks..... *swoon* (Kidding ... sort of)

But the story of this kid ..... his talent so young, his relationship with his family and friends .... the way he pursued his dreams and his mom was skeptical. This is a regular old kid whose mom just supported his dream. And let me tell you about the crazies I know.... I know a few people who will go to any lengths to get their kid noticed - modeling, traveling to Disney tryouts, etc etc .... these are also the people who *think* their kids are perfect and brag about them all. the. time. You know who they are.

But the Biebs? This movie - with the videos of him as a toddler - and the backstage stuff - really got to me. At one point Justin is so sick he can't sing and has to cancel one performance and literally looks like he is going to cry. And he tweets about it and a gazillion (it's a number, look it up) girls are all like awwwww ... feel better .... and then he tweets that he is sorry and he doesn't want to let anyone down. And then shoot to him the next week running around a park playing football with his buddies.... I mean really? This is a Good. Kid. Period.

[disclaimer: Now that he is successful and almost an adult, I am sure we may see him shave his head and go crazy like Britney Spears did, but, as a mother, I hope not.]

I'm not going to lie. At one point I was in tears. Literal tears for Justin Bieber.

So it got me to thinking - do I have the fever? Do I have the BIEBER. FEVERRRRR? *cold compress to head*

And if I do, how did I catch it? (the movie is the obvious answer here) And why do I have it? Well, I'll tell you why. Because I am a mom. And Justin Bieber represents every single one of our kids. The ones who sing and dance and the ones who don't. The smart ones who get straight A's and the ones who need ritalin to get through a day. (side note: Justin's 7th grade teacher described him as a kid who had energy all day..... LOL ..... perky in the morning and still perky by last period)

Justin Bieber represents our kids - Justin Bieber represents, to me, that my kid can do what he/she wants if he/she puts his/her mind to it. We all want our kids to succeed .... to find happiness in whatever they do .... and Justin Bieber proves they can, and sometimes, even though you are living your dream and making money and having fun, you still miss your family in Canada and want to go home. No matter who you are or what you do.

So, if you have netflx or are so inclined to rent it, see if you can get through it without catching the fever. Good luck! :)

(And as far as my Pack Fever? I've retired the Rodgers jersey until next year - you know ... when we will still be better than the Bears and that's all that matters.)

Facebooking with Pre-teens

So I'll admit it. I have a few friends on facebook that are friends of Casey. They are pre-teen little girls. And I read their stuff but never comment so they forget about me. It's worked well so far. (Maybe until they read this, of course, but I think they should be blocked....) Well, if you are friends with any middle-school age girls, you have probably noticed they are all posting and reposting this crazy list of how you should treat a girl and what you should do when sort of thing..... *rolling eyes*

[sidenote: It is important for me to step back right now and remind myself how I was in 7th grade .... Seriously boy crazy and obsessed. But here's the truth of the matter. I'm not anymore. And it's silly to have been. So there.]

Anyhow, I have been debating whether I should discuss this list the girls are posting with Casey to let him know my thoughts .... let me know what you think I should do - my thoughts are in brackets and red.

When she stares at your mouth -Kiss her ... ... [Don't kiss her, she might actually be debating if she should tell you you have food stuck in your braces] When she pushes you or hits you like a dummy cause she thinks she's stronger than you -Grab her and don't let go [NEVER grab a girl and don't let go. That's called rape in a court of law.] When she starts cursing at you trying to act all tough -Kiss her and tell her you love her [She's a bitch with a potty mouth, dump her ass] When she's quiet -Ask her whats wrong [Be thankful she isn't talking for a few minutes. There is probably nothing wrong.] When she ignores you -Give her your attention [Enjoy the break and call a friend to go play football] When she pulls away -Pull her back [Again, not a good idea] When you see her at her worst -Tell her she's beautiful [OK, do this one. That's pretty nice.] When you see her start crying -Just hold her and don't say a word [No... ask her "What the f*ck is wrong now?!"] When you see her walking -Sneak up and hug her waist from behind [Really? Gay.] When she's scared -Protect her [Honestly? You'll probably be scared, too.] When she steals your favorite hoodie -Let her keep it and sleep with it for a night [Unless it's Abercrombie or important. Then your mom will kick your ass.] When she teases you -Tease her back and make her laugh [Why is that bitch teasing you?] When she doesn't answer for a long time -Reassure her that everything is okay [Why is something wrong? So confused.] When she looks at you with doubt -Back yourself up [Back yourself up with a few friends who have your back.] When she says that she loves you -she really does more than you can understand [Seriously. Because she has hormones that you do not.] When she grabs at your hands -Hold hers and play with her fingers [Unless they're sticky. Because then ewwwww.] When she bumps into you -Bump into her back and make her laugh [Or just form tackle her and tell her to quit bumping into you.] When she tells you a secret -Keep it safe and untold [Except tell your mom because if someone ever says 'don't tell anyone,' remember you are supposed to tell your mom.] When she looks at you in your eyes -dont look away until she does [What are you, cats?] When she says it's over -she still wants you to be hers [Yeah, because she's a possessive little wench.] When she reposts this bulletin -she wants you to read it [Not your mom, though. But she did.] - Stay on the phone with her even if she's not saying anything [Why?] - When she's mad hug her tight and don't let go [Revert back to first and second comment about this not being a good idea. Holding someone against their will is also kidnapping.] - When she says she's ok don't believe it, talk with her because 10 yrs later she'll remember you [I remember all my boyfriends whether they were nice or mean. Just be you for God's sake.] - Call her at 12:00am on her birthday to tell her you love her [Unless you're asleep, of course.] - Treat her like she's all that matters to you [Um no. Your family should always matter more.] - Stay up all night with her when she's sick [Gross, really? I mean HOWWWWW sick? You don't want to catch it. And shouldn't she be sleeping instead of staying up all night?] - Watch her favorite movie with her or her favorite show even if you think it's stupid [Not a bad idea but your friends will laugh at you.] - Give her the world. [Yeah right. How are you planning to get "the world" with no job?] - Let her wear your clothes [Unless she's bigger than you.] -When she's bored and sad, hang out with her [Pre-teenage girls are ALWAYS bored and sad. You need to have a life outside of this chick. She sounds like a real pain.] -Let her know she's important. [blahblahblah] - Kiss her in the pouring rain [Sure, if you want to catch pneumonia. ~Love, Grandma] - When she runs up to you crying, the first thing you say is: "Whose butt am i kicking,BABY?" [Remember, if you get caught kicking someones butt, it better be for a better reason than this.]

Holy Crap! My Kids Aren't Perfect?!

I know I do a lot of bragging about my kids - most of it to myself and a little bit on here and even a little bit more on Facebook [I hate the changes, too] ... but *faint* .... it turns out .. *gasp* ... that my kids aren't perfect after all. [Help me up...]

But really? Did it all have to happen in 1 week?! Sigh .....

Casey is a rule follower by nature. So when it comes to school work, Casey would rather turn in something done half-ass than not turn it in at all. On a [almost] daily basis I check what we call the "Parent Portal." This little website is designed to give us up to the minute updates on how our kids are doing in their classes. Grades fluctuate almost daily so I try (TRY) and only evaluate this little gem on Friday afternoons. Well, my week starts out and I see Casey has these weird 3 letters on one of lists of grades. NHI. NHI? I think. I wonder what that could mean? National Honor Inductee? I just can't imagine.... turns out this means Not Handed In and the grade he can get on it from here on out is a ZERO. I am shocked. Speechless. I won't bore you with the details on how I have not let this go with him and have literally seen him roll his eyes at me on a few occasions regarding this NHI, but really?

Then there is Hallie. Preschool. She comes home Tuesday and tells me that she had to take a time out in Spanish [HOLA!] because she was arguing with another girl. Now besides Parker biting someone in 3 year old preschool, neither of my boys ever got in trouble at preschool. So I ask what they were fighting about. Whether or not is was raining outside. Really? Seriously? So I ask Hallie which side she was on..... raining. Good girl because it WAS raining and you were right. Well, half right because you really can't be disrupting a Spanish class with your obnoxious need to be right all the time. Not sure where she got THATTTTTT............

Then the clincher. The perfect end to my week. I am going to post the e-mail that topped off my Friday night but I am going to change some names to be fair to the other kid/family..... My comments are in brackets.

Tammy; [Tami but whatever]

As I always do [and you, Tami, never do], today I took my kids to the bus stop and saw Parker was already there waiting for the bus. Right after him my son [insert name] lined up. When Mr. John [bus driver] approached the kids he was making some gestures [not that kind!] to the kids waiting. Then [said kid] said "Look, Mr. John wants to fight with me", to what Parker answered "He is talking to me, you idiot". [the dad wrote that in red, not me]

Probably [removed name for privacy] didn't noticed what Parker said, but unfortunately I did and want to express you that I feel really bad for what I saw (you have kids and I'm sure you wouldn't like to witness happening the same to yours). I understand that kids some time do not get up with a good mood, but I know you shouldn't be calling anyone for no evident "you stupid".

In this case I'm not looking for an apology; what I really want is this not ever happen again.


thanks in advance for the attention to this note;
[Neighbor]

My first reaction was to think oh Lordy ...... I would hate to be the first kid to actually be mean to your kid BUT then I had to remember the grudge I hold against this one kid from when Casey was in 1st grade. This kid I hold the grudge against said something mean to MY FRIEND'S kid and I wasn't even a witness. [sidenote: that kid really is a butt still to this day] So my response was to have Parker march over there and apologize to the DAD and then the kid.

I accidentally just popped open a beer instead of a diet coke. It's noon-ish and I have a football game and 2 baseball games in addition to two birthday parties still to go today .... hopefully your week was better than mine.....

Can't wait 'til Monday???

Why this picture is perfect...

So let me give you some background. The last picture that we took, as a family, with decent clothes on and showered, was 2003 when Parker was 6 months old for a Christmas card. Hallie didn't even exist and that picture is still framed on my bookshelf. We have 1 other picture together with the 5 of us - well, 2 pictures actually. One is at the hospital when Hallie was born and the other is on vacation in sunglasses and swimsuits the following Thanksgiving. She was literally 5 months old. If that.

So Nana is in town and would like a picture of the 5 of us. Oh yeah I think! A perfect opportunity to get one for me as well. I will get us all clean and set the camera up and we will make happy memories. *swoon* I tell the kids listen, it doesn't have to be matchy or perfect but let's look presentable. By tell the kids I mean tell the kids AND HB because let's be honest .....

Casey comes down in a stretched out, dirty Michigan t-shirt. (GO BLUE!) Parker is still in his North All Star shirt - and sporting a hat! HB, after rolling his eyes, changed out of his under armour shorts and t-shirt.

I say please boys, please - I have spent a small fortune at Abercrombie - please can you put on something decent. They go in. They come out - Parker has removed the hat and Casey has not changed. 4 times. 4 more times I beg. I plead. There is door slamming and fit throwing. I am screaming "I don't ask that much of you!!!" I am muttering selfish little brats under my breath. Hallie looks adorable because she doesn't yet realize what is happening. I start sweating. It is 400 degrees. I might be exaggerating, it was probably only 200 degrees. I am setting up the camera. I am trying to explain to my mother-in-law how to take a picture. (A challenge I implore upon you to take on someone over the age of 60)

I finally get the boys outside. They are ticked. HB is missing. He is now back inside ordering cleats for Casey. Important. Hallie wanders off. The boys are picking my just planted flowers. Casey is all but refusing to do what I say taking this moment to become a teenager. Parker is pouting and mad and stomping around. We are a happy little Norman Rockwell family, damnit! I tell HB where to sit. I tell the boys where to sit. No one can understand what I want. People who don't know me pay me money to do this I think to myself. They don't make mad faces at me and say mean things to me. HB is complaining and saying, "Come On!" ..... so down we sit. Casey is not doing what I ask - have asked 300 times. Parker is crossing his eyes to spite me. Sweat is dripping down my face. And back. And ears, no lie. I flip out on Casey - you don't flip out on Casey - he is too sensitive and I can't have him crying he will get all blotchy. I get the boys to cooperate FINALLY and Hallie wants to lay down. I am yelling "snap the pictures faster!" at mother in law. LOL..... Hallie starts arching her back - doesn't want to sit with HB. Walks off. I threaten that she will no longer be part of our family. Then I bribe her with a fictitious Hershey bar. Lies. All lies.

We pretty much all can't stand each other at this very moment. And then *snap* ....

I can work magic, right? Frame! Happy little family.

(***as a special note I would like to really thank my MIL Gail Knodel for helping take these pictures***)