Welcome to the fabulous and sometimes insane life
of a working mother who is trying hard not to
let her whole existence be determined by her
cute little munchkins, yet continues to be drawn
in by the adorable and sometimes annoying tiny people!

Sunday, January 30, 2011

The Clothing Wars Begin


   The Clothing Wars Begin
     I remember fighting with my sister about clothes from the time she finally hit middle school and I could fit into her clothes and, likewise, she could fit into mine. This was the starting point for epic wars in our household. I am not sure we ever fought about anything, as much as we fought about clothes. If only we had worked out and abided by some sort of treaty, i.e. asking before you wear or you can wear everything except for this section. Then I think our whole family could have been spared the destruction that followed after someone was discovered wearing another someone's favorite shirt. 
       I mean think of the benefits for all, including the money strapped parents, when you had not one wardrobe to choose from but two or further down the road in our house 3 wardrobes (unless this munchkin comes out with something swinging between its legs;)
      Because I was blessed with a sister, and I do consider it a blessing now because there is nothing like the relationship that I have with her, I understand the clothing wars. I just thought we had a little more time before they were declared in our household. I mean really who ever heard of a 3 year old and 6 year old fighting over clothes. You don't even wear the same size people!!!
      So this morning when my youngest brought in a sweater that was accidentally hung in the wrong closet by my dear sweet hubby who does all the laundry I drew from my past experience and sensed a storm brewing. She wanted to know why she didn't have a "boootifull" sweater like that. We told her that she would one day and to please go hang it in her sisters closet. And so the drama ensued...
      She stomped her cute little self down the hallway and was quiet for sometime, which as any good mother knows is not always a good thing. Soon we began to hear some sort of singing coming from the back. At first, it wasn't loud enough or significant enough for us to pay attention to. But as it went on, we realized, with a laugh, that it wasn't singing but chanting. Chanting that was coming from inside the oldest munchkin's closet. Chanting of the same line over and over again. The line that we did not think we would hear for at least another 10 years:
                    Aubeee's got more bootiful clothes.
                    Aubeee's got more bootiful clothes.
                    Aubeee's got more bootiful clothes.
And so the clothing wars begin at the Hill house!

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Dirty, Dirty Mind

Dirty, Dirty Mind

Okay, I am the first to admit that my mind can quickly tumble into that dirty, dirty gutter. If you know me, I can hear you saying "Nooooo!" with that sarcastic tone. But have no fear, if someone says something that could remotely be taken with a dirty innuendo I am totally going to get it and probably be snickering in the corner. I can't help it. It is a gift, if you will. I know it is immature. I know it is silly. I know it is juvenile, but I don't care. I would rather have a dirty mind and find the humor in life than be a mean, old, humorless bitty!
So begins story time at our house tonight. The title of the book my 6 year old is reading to the family is "The Owl and The Pussy Cat". As she reads it, I smile slightly and notice that my husband perks up from behind his computer. Then she, and her sweet innocence, asks if we know what a pussy cat is. My husband pipes in, "I sure do!" And I quickly cover with, "A kitty cat." 

And so the story commences. I must admit, I did not listen to most of it. Though every so often I would hear "Pussy-cat" and would see my husband's mouth turn up. (I know! We are horrible!) 

The next thing I know she turns the page and begins reading:

  The Owl looked up to the stars above,

    And sang to a small guitar,
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
      What a beautiful Pussy you are,
          You are,
          You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!'

Now you know that however offensive you find this particular blog, you are now giggling right along with us. You know you couldn't help it. I mean seriously who writes these things. I know good and well there was offensive language back in the day. Maybe not that particular word but still. I'm just sayin'.

Needless to say, we were unable to contain ourselves and had a great laugh all the whilst trying to cover by acting like we were laughing at how cute she was  singing the song! I know, I know! I have a dirty. dirty mind. But you know what they say, the couple that laughs together, stays together. At least I think they say something like that;)

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Pure Stupidity

Pure Stupidity

So our night has been interrupted by the playoffs. I don't know why I am surprised. Our nights, days, and lives, for that matter, have been interrupted by football since July. It is our livelihood after all (I am married to a football coach). However, upon proper reflection, I have decided that there are some things about football, the sport that I love the most, that are purely stupid. 

First of all, it is ridiculous how much professional football players make. I realize they are providing entertainment for millions of people but does that indicate the need to pay them millions upon millions? I agree that there are a lot of overpaid people and professions in this world. People who do a whole lot less than just entertain, but the fact remains that they are being paid to play a game. A GAME!!! I am educating the future of our country and will not make half of what they make in a year in my lifetime. Certainly there is something better that all of this money can go to. Wouldn't it be amazing to see them donate half of their salary to something worthy. I mean Peyton Manning, who is not the highest paid, takes home an average of 14.2 million dollars a year. Certainly, he could live on 7.1 million for one year. Imagine what that money could do for education or the homeless or the hungry or the Freaking Hill Family;)

The major thing that really causes me to question the intelligence of those involved with the sport is the fact that it is presently 13 degrees in Pittsburgh with a wind chill factor of 4 degrees and no one, I repeat NO ONE,  on the whole entire field has on sleeves. Are you kidding me? I get it ! You are a man! You are tough! I also get that you are STUPID! I mean I know that moving around warms up your body, but ain't nobody out there moving around enough to warm up FOUR DEGREES! And I seriously doubt that they have those handy dandy toe and hand warmers on. That would at least keep some;) of their extremities from contracting frost bite and falling off. My husband did inform me that some coaches don't allow their players to wear sleeves. SERIOUSLY?!?!?! Well I hope they are enjoying themselves in their super warm down coat with their thick gloves and lovely long underwear while their overpaid players freeze to death. 

Oh I get it! That is why they are paid so much. They have to make up for all of the fingers and toes they might lose while playing in these types of games. Not to mention, all of the concussions and blown out knees. Either way I think there are parts of football that equal PURE STUPIDITY!

Monday, January 17, 2011

Oh What A Tangled Web We Weave

Oh What a Tangled Web We Weave

Let me start by saying this, "Lying is wrong!" We all know this. We are taught it at a very young age the first time we say, "I didn't do it" when clearly there was no one else who could have or would have colored on the wall. That being said I think we can all agree that there comes a time when one must fib a little. And most of the time I do it with out feeling guilty, but when I had to recently lie to Mary, the sweet, old cashier at Publix, and her elderly gentleman bagger I must admit I felt soooo guilty that I immediately prayed to God for forgiveness. 

So what had happened was (spoke with a ghetto infliction) this:

On Sunday, after attending early church, my family and I went to Publix for our weekly couponing extravaganza (more blogs to follow on couponing). Now just in case you did not know, my husband and I consider ourselves coupon gurus, and whereas we do nothing illegal we do stretch the limits of what may or may not be acceptable couponing etiquette. Do we feel guilty? No. Do you realize how much money they are making? Plus, they get paid back for the manufacture coupons and as far as the competitors coupons, well if they did not accept them we would not be shopping there. Anyways....

When we shop we split up our list and our family, so that we are able to go through two different check out lines and, therefore, use more coupons (some Publix stores have policies about only one competitor coupon or one deal per customer). So we enter Publix and give our children the strictest of instructions that if they see the other part of our family they must completely ignore them and not scream across the store "That's my daaaadddddyyyy", as my 3 year old recently did. 

However, on this occasion I actually ended up at the same cashier line that my husband had just moments ago vacated unbeknown to me. I had a raincheck for some items, and the cashier commented that she just had a man with the same raincheck. I thought to myself, "Hmmmmm". Then she saw my Johnsons and Johnsons coupons (which by the way made the product free) and commented that he guy before me had a lot of these too. I thought to myself, "Oh no!" Then she noticed that I was pregnant and she commented that the guy before me was also expecting another baby, but that he has two girls (I had one of the girls with me) and was expecting a third girl. I though to myself, "Oh S@#*!". 

Then she and her elderly bag boy began discussing that I was actually purchasing many of the same items as he did and had many of the same coupons. I thought to myself, "We are totally busted!" The final straw was when she asked me if I knew what the sex of the baby was. I thought to myself, "Lie, lie, lie!!!" And with a face that I am sure was as red as a tomato I said, "They weren't sure. The baby would not cooperate. I guess we will have to find out next time!" (Insert prayer of forgiveness here!)

Finally, I was finished checking out and was about to escape without being bombarded with Publix employees accusing me of some wrong, which is really not wrong at all according to "current" store policy (current because they would probably change it if we were discovered). She printed out my receipt and made a proclamation of my savings "Spent $84 and saved $73", and then added, "That other guy did the exact opposite. He spent $73 and saved $84. Maybe he's still in the parking lot and you can talk to him about how he did it." I though to myself, "Well, no duh. He better still be in the parking lot or I am walking my fat tail home!" And just as I am readying to leave, I have to wrestle my buggy away from elderly bag boy Bob who wants to help unload the bags for me and my pregnant self. That could have definitely proven awkward when my hubby, also known as that couponing guy who was in front of me, jumped out of the car to also help me! Oh what a tangled web we weave;)

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Top 10 Reasons Why I Miss My Husband When He's Gone

Top 10 Reasons Why I Miss My Husband When He's Gone

My hubby and I are rarely away from each other. We just don't go places without the other. He is my best friend and I don't like to be without him. However, there comes a time when we must depart from one another....could be my yearly Bunko trip:)', a coach's clinic, a meeting, a golf tournament, or, like this weekend, a sick parent (I can't believe we are at that point in our lives already). So while he was gone I started thinking about all the ways in which I miss him. Let me count the ways (or count down the ways).

10. Well, who wouldn't miss looking at this face. And the neck down ain't too bad either;) 

Before you think it is just me, I recently sent him to go pick up my oldest from dance (never again) and it was reported to me by several outside sources that you would have thought the Beatles had walked into the dance studio. He was instantly flocked by teeny boppers and as he walked out several sprained necks ensued. 

9. There was no one to go play outside with the girls. Since, I have been pregnant, shockingly, I have become extremely lazy. He is so good about taking them out to play, jumping on the trampoline with them, playing soccer, and in-acting the child laboring.

8. Discipline...did I mention I had become lazy. Not so lazy that I allow my children run rampant causing destruction and disruption to everyone and everything, but my discipline tactics normally take place from the couch, now. 

7. There is no one to look at and laugh when someone says or does something silly or just too cute!

6. I had to get the girls dressed all by myself. I know some of you are saying, "Hey, I do that all the time." Well, so sorry for you. I don't. We are very much like a team (see previous blog.)

5. Damned if I didn't have to bend my big fat belly over that tub to bathe these two munchkins. This feat is becoming more and more difficult and he has started taking over. 

4. The bed time fight it now two against one instead of an even fight. We usually rotate the walking of the little people back to their bedroom, yelling from the couch to go to sleep, getting up and finding items like blankies, doggies, and babies. I ran myself ragged.

3. Laundry- I am sorry for the jealousy that some of you are about to feel, but he does ALL, yes I did say ALL, of the laundry. It was a deal we made when I started back to school for my specialist degree. It is the most wonderful thing ever. Although seeing as school hasn't started back yet this semester, I should probably get up off the couch, stop blogging, and help. 

2. When it comes to weekend mornings, my husband turns from a superhero (reasons described above) to an angel. I have not had to get up with the girls in the morning since I stopped breast feeding my three year old at 8 weeks after birth. He turns on the fan to block noise, shuts the door, and keeps the girls quiet so that I can sleep. Could be that he knows how tired I am and is just being nice, or it could be that he realizes that I am ten times better of a mood when I get to sleep. Oh yeah, I also have a hard time sleeping without him, which makes me even grumpier because I haven't slept and then munchkins wake me up at 6 o'clock in the a.m.

1. I love him. I mean it is as simple as that. I could describe another reason for missing him, but he has forbidden me from discussing this subject any more in my blog (maybe he thinks it makes you all even more jealous;)' But the truth of the matter is that the Top 10 Reasons Why I Miss My Husband When He Is Gone is because, even though there are points in times when I can't stand to be around him;),  I love him and he is my other half and I feel totally lost without him.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

I am Drawing the Line

I am Drawing the Line

I told someone today that I wanted to become a freelance writer. And she laughed and said, "What? In all of your free time." And I realized she was right....well, at least partially. I mean I am an extremely busy woman, but what mother isn't. It is not the job or the kids or the husbands (or lack of) that makes us busy or insane. It is all of it rolled into one big some times uncontrollable ball, which drives us control freaks crazy. I mean why else do you think that so many women are on medication now (pregnancy over=Lexipro or Aderall here I come). 

In retrospect, I probably could have a little too much going on. I teach full time. I am currently pursuing my Educational Specialist Degree. I have two young munchkins and am currently serving as a baby making factory for a third. I am our PTO Co-President and also serve as the Special Events Chairperson. I have a Bunko group. I am on the United Way Board. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Not too mention the fact that I live by the philosophy, "If I am going to do this, by God it is going to be the BEST". I will strive to be the best teacher, mother, wife, leader, and parade float maker (even though we were ROBBED this year by receiving first runner up. Sorry my Eastside friends. In case you can't tell, I am still quite bitter.)

My main problem is the ability to say no or for that matter when (especially when it comes to dessert). Temptress-Liz, will you serve as President? Me-Well... Temptress-please you would be awesome. Me-Okay 
Temptress-Please be a part of our adult spelling bee team. Me- I can't spell. Temptress-So it will be fun. Me-Okay. (Seriously? A spelling bee. I couldn't say no to a spelling bee. I SUCK at spelling and obviously I SUCK at saying no).

However, I recently accomplished saying no to someone other than my children, students, and my poor, deprived husband. I was put on a committee at church. One that would regulate the children's activities. One that would require more meetings to fit into my schedule. But finally, I was able to say no. Of course, I did it through e-mail (much easier than face to face or phone. Totally get why people break up through test messages or in Sarah Jessica Parker's case, a post-it) and I had several reasons: 1. I wasn't even asked. 2. I don't have time. 3. I am not even a member of that church. But the point is, I said no. I do feel slightly guilty, but it was time I drew the line. 

Now, let's just hope this line does not get erased by that temptress who understands my need to be in control of things. But I mean it. I am drawing the line. I am saying no.....well....ummm....maybe.