We've Got Tickets to Ride

Yesterday, at the butt-crack of dawn, we set off on vacation to the Live Music Capitol of the world: Austin, TX.

Beautiful, sunny, oh-so-hot Austin.

I should probably lose five pounds this week just from sweating, if I ever leave the house, that is.

Anyway, our trip started uneventfully at the airport.

Until we got to the gate, that is.

All seven of us (my five, plus my in-laws) had JUST walked up to the gate, when we heard the page: "Prince Charming's father, party of seven, please come to the ticket counter. Prince Charming's father, party of seven, please come to the ticket counter."

Uh, oh.

We all thought we were being kicked off the plane, for some reason or another. Until my father-in-law got back to us.

"We've been upgraded."

Upgraded?

"All seven of us have been upgraded to first class!"

?!?

Seriously, we got to fly first class. All seven of us.

Yee haw!

And let me tell you, first class is so worth it! Heated towels, breakfast, drinks, super nice flight attendants, wide seats.

THAT is the life!

I could definitely get used to that.

White-Out

To all of you who were subjected to my oh-so-whiteness today at the public pool,


I apologize.


To all of you who were dazzled by my new, brightly-patterned swimsuit contrasting with my winter all-year-long whiteness,


I'm sorry.


At least I shaved.

You're welcome.

Proposal

So, I've been avoiding posting this, and I'm not sure why.

I want a change. At least, I think I do.

I've been blogging here at The Queen I Am Not for two almost years now. I originally named this blog because of my older daughter's complete and absolute obsession with princesses. That, and every time she played "princess," I never got to be the queen; I was always the bad stepmother, or the prince.

Although she's still into princesses, and has taught her younger sister to love them, as well, princesses don't consume her life anymore.

And now and then, I do actually get to be the queen. When I'm asked to play "princess" anymore. Which isn't often now that my younger daughter is old enough to play along.

While I still like my blog name, and while it's still appropriate, I'm thinking about making a change.

This is what I'm thinking about, and have been for over two weeks now:

I'm considering changing my blog title to E=MC2 (that's a squared, if I can figure out how to do a superscript on here).

Why? Well, for a number of reasons: 1. I'm a math teacher. 2. My husband was a math teacher until yesterday (stupid funding cuts!). 3. E, M, and C are (conveniently) the initials of my children. 4. E, M, and C actually correspond well to my children's personalities.

Before I make any changes, though, I really want your feedback.

I know I haven't posted much lately, but it's partly because this has been weighing on my mind, and I've been trying to avoid it.

I think I want a fresh start, but I really like the comfortable nature of the old/current.

I don't know. What do you think?

Please let me know in the comments. Also, I'll try to get a poll up in the sidebar, if I can figure it out.

Seriously. I want your input. I really do value your opinions!

So, what do you think?

Wordless Wednesday--My Rose Garden, Minus the Roses

And, minus my picture, apparently.

*sigh*

Sorry to everyone who stopped by.
My pictures have been vomited out by Blogger yet again.

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For more Wordless Wednesday, visit 5 Minutes for Mom.

Toe Jam

Yesterday, as often happens when my girls are outside playing together, Sleeping Beauty started to shriek.

I, not being a helicopter parent, ignored it.

Usually her shrieking subsides quickly, or Cinderella manages to find a way to calm her down. Usually Sleeping Beauty is shrieking because of some perceived or real injustice done to her by her sister.

On this occasion, however, the shrieking didn't stop. It got worse. And it finally got to the point where I could hear tears through her shrieks.

I decided it was time to investigate. I put on my stern "mom face" and my nasty flip flops, and I got ready to verbally deal with Cinderella, who I had assumed caused the shrieking in the first place.

Once outside, I demanded, "What is going on?" Cinderella, glancing up from where she was squatting next to Sleeping Beauty, calmly replied, "She has a bug caught between her toes."

?

"What?"

"There's a bug caught between her toes."

?!?

I thought to myself, "It's probably just a little beetle or a pill bug. Well, I suppose it could be a little spider, since they've been playing with the leftover water in the collapsed pool. Maybe an ant?"

Um, no.

I peered over the top of Sleeping Beauty's head and my first reaction was to physically restrain myself from jumping back and shrieking myself.

My second reaction was to verbally restrain myself from asking Cinderella why she didn't just remove the bug herself. (What? I didn't want to touch the sucker.)

What I had seen was two very large wings and several very long legs jammed between the first two toes on her left foot.

A water skeeter.

A large water skeeter.

A very dead, very squished water skeeter.

Jammed in between her toes.

*shudder*

I did not want to touch that thing. So, I did the next best thing, and second thing to cross my mind: I grabbed Sleeping Beauty's left ankle, and flopped her foot around on the grass, hoping to dislodge the squished nastiness.

Didn't work.

I then proceeded to wipe the top of her foot on the grass (she's flexible), hoping the thing wouldn't separate into pieces, thereby forcing me to actually have to touch some part of it.

It must have worked, because by the time I stopped wiping to check our progress, the bug and his many wings, legs, and body parts, were gone.

At least, I think they were all gone. I didn't bother to check between Sleeping Beauty's toes.

And neither did she.

Under Construction

I've been making some changes around here.

As if there isn't enough construction going on around my house currently, I've been changing up my blog a bit.

I'll be posting a proposal to all of you soon, and I'd really like your input.

For now, just enjoy my new layout!

The Battle of Wills Is Over!

And she's finally finished! Just in time for lunch.

Typical.

On Being a Mom

My five year-old has been in her room crying for the last fifteen minutes.

She has been told to stay there until she's ready to eat, even though she's barely eaten anything since six o'clock last night, and is now complaining of a headache.

Why?

Because I made a difficult parenting decision.

Cinderella didn't like last night's dinner. After an hour of ignoring her complaints, after an hour of forcing her to sit at the table until her food was gone, I finally sent her off to bed early. The only condition we set on her not finishing her dinner was that she'd end up eating it for breakfast.

Breakfast came. And breakfast went.

She ate a few bites, declared her "dinner" was still yucky, and put it back in the fridge.

That was over two hours ago.

It has currently been fifteen hours since my daughter has eaten anything. And while it breaks my heart, I know I need to stick with my decision.

It's not unusual for Cinderella not to say she doesn't like her dinner. We still make her eat it.

It's happened several times before that she eats her dinner for breakfast the next day.

This, however, is the longest stretch.

She knows I'm not going to cave in. I know I'm not going to cave in.

Part of me wants to, though. Part of me wants to fill her tummy and send her outside to play.

The other part of me, the larger part, wants to ensure that she learns her lessons. Lessons she needs. Lessons she knows, but that, apparently, she still needs to be reminded of.

Lessons in obedience, consequence, and gratefulness.

It's a hard road, growing up.

It's an even harder road, parenting.

Am I a mean mom? Yes. Am I a loving mom? Yes. Do I want the best for my children? Most definitely, yes.

Am I going to make her eat her dinner? Yes. Because I'm mean? No.

Because I'm a mom.

Here she comes...

The Graduate

My firstborn graduated from preschool today.

I am officially the mom of a kindergartner.

*sigh*

Six Months Ago Today...

Today, the Little Prince is 6 months old.



















He's my last baby; my last child.



















My only boy.













My bubba.

The Sweet Spot

The Little Prince has a sweet spot.

It's not his cheeks.
(His cheeks are so chunky that if you're standing directly behind him, you can still see his jowls.)













It's not his thighs.
(Obviously, but I had to throw in a picture of them. Just look at those thunder thighs!)













It's not even his feet.
(Please ignore the spit-up on his pants and simply enjoy the cuteness of baby feet!)













It's his ears.

When he's tired and nursing, trying to go to sleep, but fighting against it with his entire body, all I have to do is rub my finger around and around his ear. His body instantly goes limp, his eyes roll back while his eyelids close, and soon, he's blissfully asleep.

How to Wear Out a Two Year-Old

First, make sure it's 80+ degrees out during the day (the hotter the better), necessitating the use of the air conditioner.

Next, make sure there's a windstorm that night, thereby forcing you to leave the windows closed all night so the house doesn't cool down.

Have the two year-old accustomed to sharing a room with her five year-old sister. If the five year-old snores, even better.

Then, have the wind create a wind tunnel right outside your daughters' bedroom window. (The five year-old will, of course, sleep through this, snoring peacefully away, so you won't have to worry about her, fortunately.)

In addition, make sure you set up a cat-sized WWF ring right outside their bedroom door, so the cats can practice their moves after being cooped up inside all night. It especially helps if you can get them to growl and hiss at each other.

Force (and I mean force) all of these things to coincide at exactly 3:00 am, thereby waking said two year-old up and sending her crying to your bedroom door. Bring her in bed with you.

Make sure you don't let her fall back to sleep; keep her awake at all costs. Flail your arms around her head, knocking gently into her every once in awhile. Whisper her name over and over until she answers you. Squiggle around until she spits out, "Go to sleep NOW!"

Have your husband drag her out of your bed at 5:00 am to watch him exercise. Have him force sugary Apple Jacks down her throat at 6:00 am. Make sure he keeps her occupied until he leaves for work, then prop her eyelids open so she can watch a Baby Einstein until her five year-old sister wakes up at 7:30 am.

After that, go about your business as usual, serving lunch at 11:10 am. At 11:30 pm, finished or not, cuddle your irascible, whiny, exhausted two year-old to your chest, change her diaper, rock her, sing to her, and put her in her crib with her books, blanket, and dolls. Tell her goodnight, and that you love her. Close the door and breathe a sigh of relief.

Don't hear another peep from her until after 4:00 pm.

That's how to wear out a two year-old.

Aloha Friday

It's time for swimsuit shopping. Again.

*sigh*

So, here's my question: What kind of swimsuit do you wear?

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For more questions you just may have the answer to, check out An Island Life.

Two Years Old

Sleeping Beauty turned two yesterday.


And I forgot.

Cinderella had to remind me.

My problem was that we celebrated Sleeping Beauty's birthday on Sunday evening, since we knew we wouldn't be around the house last night.

Regardless, she is now officially two.

And being two for her means new things to discover, explore, and try.








Being two for me means having to admit that another one of my babies is finally growing up.

That and trying to finally capture the smile of my second daughter with my brand new camera. It's rare we get a picture of her actually smiling. Sleeping Beauty is so cute in person, but definitely not photogenic.

10 Things You're Dying to Know About Me

The fabulous Pamela tagged me for this, and since I'm going through a phase, I'm going to play along.

1. What is your current obsession? Facebook. Sad, I know.

2. Which item of clothing do you wear most often? Probably my Haflinger slippers. Oh, Haflinger, how I love thee! These slippers are one of the few things I really splurge on every couple of years.

3. What's for dinner? BBQ flank stead in the crockpot, green beans, and I'm not sure what else yet.

4. What are you listening to? The girls sucking/crunching lollipops at the lunch table.

5. Say something about the one who tagged you. Pamela is the owner of a wonderful line of baby clothes, Happy Panda. Her firstborn sounds a lot like the Little Prince, size-wise.

6. Favorite vacation spots? St. John, USVI. Disneyland.

7. What am I reading right now? Prague Counterpoint, by Bodie and Brock Thoene; Hood, by Stephan Lawhead; and The Pox Party, by M.T. Anderson.

8. Four word to describe myself. Smart, sarcastic, problem-solver, mom (yes, I know that's technically five words).

9. Guilty Pleasure? Ice cream, chips (can't have them in the house), Oreos, right now (my dad brought over a Costco box; those things are from the devil!).

10. First Spring thing to do? Planting flowers.

Now, I will pass this on to: Hillary, L Harris, Colleen, Baba, and Hit 40.