A post about nothing. Seinfeld would be so proud.

'I'm not a neurologist, but according to this X-ray, you have no brain.'So I just realized my brain has turned into spaghetti and I haven’t been able to form a single coherent sentence since the holidays. Hence, my absence from the blogging world and I’m sure your lives. Rrriiight…

Let me start by apologizing for this post before you even read it because I have no idea what it’s going to be about, I’m going to wing it, just like I’m winging my children’s upbringing. I’m keeping my fingers crossed and hope they grow up to be descent human beings.

As I was saying, my mind is completely blank and it’s been that way since the holidays. January has been like one big massive hangover, and not precisely from drinking too much, those days were left in the past, along with a face that doesn’t have permanent puffy eyes.

I think I lost my brain sometime between getting over the initial shock of reading my daughters’ Christmas list, making one VERY realistic list of my own, Christmas shopping, and trying to figure out how to make a Christmas expense excel spreadsheet.

I thought about making a spreadsheet so I could find a way to organize my holiday shopping budget and not go haywire like I did last year. Dear husband, this is where you need to stop reading.  Actually, I’m not going to say how much I spent, because if I know my husband well, he is still reading even though I just asked him not to. But why should he start listening to me now?

Anyway, excel spreadsheets are hard. And I went over my budget. Again.

So this post will not be about my adventures in computer land.

Back to where I was telling you about my non functioning brain.

Right in the middle of that mess, I figured I should at least start laying out ideas on what to write next. So I started looking everywhere for all these random notes I’m usually jotting down on any writable surface. I checked my phone OHMYGODCANDYCRUSHISGONE!!!  I checked the palm of my hand Buy toilet paper and tampons. I checked the bathroom stalls Get a new writing pad. I checked my purse and surprisingly, all I found was an overdue speeding ticket and thanks to my zombie brain* I now have to pay double the amount.

Since it was still December, I figured I would write about how excruciatingly exhausting it is to keep lying to my kids about Santa. Not only does it drill a hole in my pocket every single year because my kids think Christmas is a toy free for all, but I always have to take it up a notch and start making up all these stupid “magical” stories about how all the reindeer send them letters every night without thinking first that I was going to be the one doing all the writing and printing, which in itself wasn’t hard work because who am  I kidding, I got the pre-written letters from the all mighty Pinterest. The real hard work was waiting for my daughters to fall asleep and not forgetting to roll up the letters and stick them in their stockings. That was too much of a commitment.

Do not even get me started on the as*hole that invented the elf on the shelf. This person clearly had too much time on her hands. Also, who designed this toy? What is the same person? And does she know that this creepy elf is just waiting for you to go to sleep so he can murder you in your sleep?

My daughters got theirs as a gift from someone who hates** me and we decided our elf, Nancy, was NOT going to be reporting back to Santa. They couldn’t stand the pressure of another set of eyes watching them, Santa’s eyes are enough.

So Christmas Eve rolled by and after partying until 1 am (and by partying I mean eating like a pig), mama here went to bed at 3:30 IN THE MORNING putting together a desk because my 7-year-old “absolutely needs an office”, and making sure “Santa” laid all the toys in a perfect semi-circle by the Christmas Tree. Naturally, two of my last working brain cells died that night. I swear to God when these kids find out the truth about Santa I better be getting a trip to the jewelry store as a thank you.

So this post will not be about the magic of Christmas.

Let me tell you about our crazy New Year’s Eve partaaaay!!!

We got all sorts of ready for NYE. I got party poppers, party hats, we had sparkling cider for the girls, soda for us (we’re boring, deal with it), ordered pizza and wait for it…. my husband fell asleep at 8:04 on the couch wearing a glitter party hat.  I have the picture to prove it but I can’t show it because he threatened to post a picture of when I thought I looked cute in a pixie cut, sooo…yeah…whatever…I rang the new year at 9:45 pm with my daughters and my mom while watching Disney reruns. Whoop Whoop!

So this post will not be about our New Year’s Eve fiesta.

On new years day, I sat down in front of my laptop (not hangover and totally refreshed from a good night sleep) and decided that for the first time ever, I was going to make some new year’s resolutions and all I could come up with was this:

1- Stop eating chocolate bars as a midday snack.

Because “joining the gym” would be just setting myself up for failure. And guess what? Chocolate is still my best friend forever.

So this post will not be about my New Year’s resolutions.

Also, this post will not be about how much weight I gained during the holidays. I don’t want to talk about it OK?!?!?

This post will NOT be me complaining about the weather. It’s January and it’s freezing cold and it sucks and it sucks and it sucks.

So what should this post be about?

 

*I don’t think Zombies have brains.

**I’m kidding S, I know you love me!

 

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I am a wise one I tell you!

A few posts back I wrote about this to-do list I started the day I found out I was pregnant with my first baby. It’s basically a list of things I needed to learn before she was born and obviously still haven’t because postponing everything is how I roll.

What I didn’t tell you though, is all the things I’ve learned that have made me the Master Mother Sensei that I am today. Not really, but it sounds bad ass so just humor me.

I think I read a few pages each of all the parenting books I bought while pregnant. I stopped reading them when I figured out my obgyn was giving me the Cliff Notes version on every appointment, and frankly, I preferred to spend as much time sleeping since everyone kept drilling into my head that once you have a baby you will never ever in a million years even when they get married and leave the house sleep again. This is in fact….a fact.

I’ve somehow managed to become an expert on a few areas and I would love to spread my wisdom. Please take note, this is very important:

POOP 

Everything I know is based on usually chaotic experiences, things that just suddenly happened, followed by frantic online searches (don’t ever do that) and calls to the pediatrician, only to have her tell me it’s all perfectly normal and that I should have really read the books. Case in point, the day my daughter proudly showed me the neon green poop she had just left in the potty. One panicky Google search later, and I quickly learned that she was either slowly turning into an alien or that artificial coloring does exactly that, artificially colors your baby’s poop. Damn you Lucky Charms.  7 years later I am the poop expert in my house. One quick look and I can tell you what they had for dinner the night before. My parents are very proud.

TOYS

I’m also, of course, a toy connoisseur.  I have spent my fair share of time playing with ALL OF THEM, so I know for a fact that Ken is gay and he might be having an affair with some other Ken dude that never has his pants on. I’m surprised Barbie still dates him, she seems to be a smart girl judging from all the jobs she currently has (Vet, Hairstylist, Mom, Teacher, Park Ranger and everything in between), but she just can’t get a clue that her boyfriend has better clothes than her and is constantly hanging around another blondie with a mad six-pack. Barbie, break up with him, but still keep him around. Trust me, they throw the best parties ever and they make the best friends a girl (or anyone for that matter) could ask for.

Ken, tell Barbie the truth and then come find me, we can totally be bff’s. image via dailybest.it

Hungry Hippos are just that, 4 starving hippos that never seem to get full because this mind numbing game never ends.

Mickey and Minnie are way overrated and have been collecting dust on the top shelf.

Monster High dolls have freakishly long legs and skinny torsos and they dress like ‘women of the night’, because calling them whores would be a little mean, after all, they are teenagers.

Hello Kitty will forever be a cat, no matter who says otherwise.  I will not let you crush my childhood.

Cabbage Patch Kids are still around, and guess what? They still have the same awesome smell they did before. Don’t pretend you never smelled them.

All this vast knowledge I have on toys is obviously because I’ve purchased them all for my daughters, which brings me to my next point of expertise…finance.

FINANCE

I learned this summer that once your daughters find out there is an American Girl store in your area, you might as well just kiss your 401k good-bye and walk inside because they will stop at nothing until they get one. That means cleaning their rooms and eating Brussels sprouts.

They have also been collecting these little dolls called Mini Lalaloopsy for about 4 years now.  Each one of them comes with their own personality (some very questionable), a pet (of course) and one million accessories (why not?). They cost around $7.99 each, multiply that by 91, add to that 2 American Girl dolls plus whatever accessories and outfits they’re going to want, at least 3 yearly shopping trips to the mall because they never stop growing, plus lots and lots of grocery shopping and you have what I like to call a one way ticket to bankruptcy city.

Bye, bye my loves :(

Bye, bye my loves :(

 

Hibernation 

It usually takes me getting ready to go out with my hubby in order for either one of my daughters, if not both, to suddenly, out of the blue, get sick. Not before, when I’m still lounging around in my yoga pants. No. They wait until I have brushed my hair, put on make-up (concealer and strawberry chap stick), squeeze into my skinny jeans and break out the stilettos for them to throw up out of nowhere.

If we do manage to slip away for a quick bite or even, wait for it….a movie, we will undoubtedly get a call from grandma saying that they’re either coughing too much or have a horrible, horrible tummy ache. And of course, because I’m as paranoid as it gets and must rush to their sides every time they say “ouch”, by the time we get there, whatever “ouchy” they had magically disappears.

So now I keep the house stacked with medicine, snacks, unread magazines, movies for the young and old and loads of toys, because I’ve become quite an expert hibernator, not that I mind now that the weather is starting to suck again.

And there you have it! 4 things I’m really good at. Next time I’ll talk about child psychology or something more profound that doesn’t involve poop.

 

Follow me to get all the nonsense delivered straight to your email. But if you’d rather listen to a Justin Beiber song than to read my ridiculous posts, well, then you’re on your own and I’ll try not to judge. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

well hello there 70 degrees!

We finally got a break from this eternal winter and got a nice, sunny day last Saturday, so of course, like any other person suffering from cabin fever here in the Northeast I decided to spend the day outside. I grabbed my girls and headed out. We decided to go to D.C since I had an aunt visiting from Colombia and thought it would be nice to show her around. I told the girls they could finally wear their new spring jackets and you should’ve seen their eyes pop with excitement, their mouths wide open: “You mean spring is finally here?” Oh these poor souls. I packed snacks for the car, because any car ride over 15 minutes long is a road trip for them and snacks MUST be provided.

We stopped for lunch at the most amazing burger joint ever, Shake Shack, and well, well, well, no one told me that this was the place to be on a Saturday afternoon. The line was almost as long as the line outside Georgetown Cupcakes (don’t even get me started on that, that line situation deserves a Post of its own). But it’s ok, trust me, these burgers are worth the wait, I mean, seriously, best burgers ever. I’m so hungry for one right now. Damn.

Heaven on a tray

Heaven on a tray

While I ordered I asked my mom to walk around with Itala sitting on the stroller, maybe someone would feel bad for this lady pushing this huge baby around and not grab the next empty table, because obviously there were none available, people were sitting on the sidewalk eating and I don’t even want to imagine the disaster of doing that with a 6 and a 3-year-old.  After leaving burger heaven we headed to Georgetown because of course every tourist needs to buy a $45 “Channel” bag. I didn’t even try; I would’ve purchased every single purse in the kiosk. Original, fake, big, small, all of them. I’m a recovering purse-aholic. My mom took my aunt purse shopping and I took the girls down to the waterfront.

I forgot that everyone else in DC had been holed up inside for the past 3 months just like us and holy smokes Batman where did all these people come from?!?

Ok, it was not this crowded but you get my point

Ok, it was not this crowded but you get my point

We found an open space and I set the girls free, it was like they’ve never seen sunshine…or freedom. It was a beautiful thing.

Run children, run! Be free!

Run children, run! Be free!

Antonella did some yoga:

Not bad for a first timer

Not bad for a first timer

And Itala did some of what I suppose are karate moves:

Wax on, wax off

Wax on, wax off

 It was an awesome Saturday….and then Tuesday rolled in with this:

Why oh why must you tease us this way Mother Nature?

Why oh why must you tease us this way Mother Nature?

 

And then I remembered what March is all about:

march

Patience my little grasshoppers, patience.

once upon a time in Colombia…

Once upon a time, I used to live in Colombia.  In Barranquilla, where I grew up, it’s a summer heaven all year long.  The furthest beach was a long, tedious 15 minute drive. We used to go there for hours every Sunday.  Sometimes we would ditch school and just drive straight there.  I think I owned a couple of long sleeve shirts to have just in case our winter night breeze got out of control.  I had coconut and mango trees in my back yard. No kidding. Do you want to know what I have in my back yard now? Snow, I have snow. Endless piles of snow. After 10 years of living in Virginia, I’ve learned to absolutely love Spring; remember my childhood in Summer; enjoy the crisp, cool Fall weather and just tolerate Winter.

The first snow of the year is always exciting.  It’s the start of the holidays and everything is white and red and green and perfect. Until January comes and it hits you in the face with the same shovel you’ll be using when to clearing the sidewalk for the next two months.  There’s no Christmas anticipation, no New Year’s party to plan, just the hope that winter will be kind to us until Spring gets here. And that’s only if Punxsutawney Phil feels like it. How did our hopes of sunnier, warmer days end up in the paws of a groundhog?  This effing winter is getting the best of me. I’m no longer the happy, smiling mom of two beautiful girls. I am now the shriveled, cold, bitter, bearer of two kids that are messing up my house because school is ALWAYS closed.  Go away winter, seriously, I’m over you.

P.S. I will no longer be saving for my daughters’ education. I will now be spending our money on a three month trip down to Colombia every winter.  Sunny, coconutty  Colombia.

P.S II: I love Virginia, I really do :)

#rantmuch #sorrynotsorry

FACT:

photo 2

They do look cute though :)

photo 1

 

Antonella & Itala