brains before beauty

this is big c.  

my first born.

absolutely beautiful.  

and smart too.  in fact, she received a letter from a senator commending her on her state test scores from last year.  they were the highest in the state of florida.  

yep, the brains.  they're in there somewhere.

now let me share a 10 minute segment of our morning with you.

big c: "mom, can i have cocoa puffs with milk for breakfast?"

me: "um, you're 9.  can you pour the milk all by your big girl self?"

big c: "yep."

big c: "the milk expires on 11-22."

me: "great."

big c: "that's really soon.  are we going to drink that much milk before then?"

me: "really?  look at the calendar. today's the 9th."

big c: "it's in 5 days."

me : "go eat your breakfast."

3 seconds later........

big c: "soooorrrrry, mama."

me: "it's fine.  just get something else to eat.  how did this even happen?"

big c: "i forgot to sit down first."

???

she chooses an apple and sits down at the table.

little c has a project for school due this week.  big c reads the paper.

big c: "mom, we have to help little c make his rooster today."

me: "his rooster?"

big c: "yeah, his rooster.  rooooooossssterrrr." (as if i'm the idiot who isn't quite getting it)

me: "are you sure it's a rooster.  look at the picture and read the directions again."

big c: "his turkey.  we have to help him disguise his turkey."

me: "i know. we'll work on it after school.

big c: "can we make it look like a pop star chicken?"

me: "a chicken?"

big c: "i mean rooster.  i mean turkey."

me: "you should go ahead and go wait for the bus."

big c: "but i have 10 minutes."

me: "did you brush your hair before you put that headband on?"

big c: "i can't remember."

i love that child.  and it's only 7:11 in the morning.

teach your children well.

-dimply stacy

it's like a brett favre comeback. again. and again.

well folks, here we are.  once again.  bringing it back.

i know i have let you all down time after time with the promise of a return to the blogging scene.  

i like to disappoint often, that way the only way to go is up.

so, really, it's been a pretty huge success for me.

but seriously, i do plan to bring it back.  for real.  really.

that being said, let's start with this......................

halloween, 2011.  

the saga continues.  

this year big c "chose" to be toucan sam, and little c "begged" to be captain crunch.  

i couldn't let them down, because that's the type of mom i am, so i got started immediately constructing their costumes.  

no, big c didn't cry when we discussed her costume.  not like she did when we took her to twice the ice, anyway.  i'm not sure who started that rumor.

okay, so they were tears of joy.  let it go, people.

little c, on the other hand, embraced his future with open arms.

see?

he owned the costume.  

and his day started at school.  a school full of princesses, iron mans, darth vaders, captain americas and batmans.

and m&ms.

and bumblebees.

and not too many cereal characters.  naturally.

and his anal mom may or may not have made him take it all off so he didn't mess it up while he ate.  or played.  or walked.  or breathed.

rightfully so.  look at his face.

no seriously, look at his face.

cutest. kid. ever.

well, cutest since big c.  what kind of mom would i be to pick a favorite?

speaking of captain america... he just so happens to be little c's bestie.

and darth jack completes their trifecta of trouble.

i love these boys.

i also love this toucan.  at an age when most little girls would cringe at the thought of wearing a leotard with orange tights (and undies that stick out of the side), big c rocked it.

no pretty princesses in our house.

but we did trick or treat with big c's other half, little red riding hood.  the two of them are together all. the. time. yet, the aviator just realized how pretty she is.  maybe it was the dress?  or maybe it was the hope that she was carrying something good in that basket?

whatever it was, he was struck by her beauty.  um, duh.  she looks just like her mom, my pal, maily.  you might remember her from "even aviators wear sweaters".  she's the butt of most of my jokes.

because i'm a good friend.  and that's what good friends do.  they make you feel lousy about yourself.

okay, but seriously, aren't they the cutest?

the crappiest?

the creepiest little kidiots?

i digress.  so, after cramming down 3 pizzas in 4 minutes, the clan headed to the costume contest in our hood. i'll fudge this part slightly and tell you that there were over 200 entries.  here are some of them...

and speaking of ADORABLE, um can you say "cutest minnie mouse EVER?"  this is baby S.  you first met her in the halloween blog last year.  she was baking in maily's fat stomach.

i heart her.  she gives me the baby fix i so need.  and then she goes home.  it's a win win.

um, so in the midst of all that was happening, i forgot to take a bunch of pictures of the costume contest.  you know, the one with over 200 entries.

little c won.  the end.

it was my 15 minutes of fame.  it's the little things.

then off to trick or treat.

and let me add that our neighborhood is the bomb for candy loot.  the military likes to have kids.  a lot of kids.  like, a LOT of kids.  and they congregate here once a year, in costume, to collect candy for their fat moms... like me.

but not like this mom.  she must not eat her kid's twix.  and butterfingers.  and almond joys.  and milky ways.  and snickers.  and smarties.  and stuff.

overall, halloween 2011 was a huge success.

spook you later.

like tomorrow or something.

extra dimply stacy

polly want a mullet?

see this kid?

love him.

yeah, yeah.  forget about yesterday and the fat thing.  he's too smart for his own good.

and too cute for my own good.

i'm completely smitten with this boy.  his smile.  his eyes.  his beautiful curly locks.

he grew his hair out because he knew how much his mommy loved it.  he's pretty much perfect like that.

my husband, the aviator, used to be like him.

once upon a lifetime, before the coast guard, before he was an aviator, before poor decisions made him shave it.... the aviator had fantastic hair.  i loved it.  i envied it.

but the military says that's not okay.

and i like his paychecks.  and benefits.  so we listen.

and i live out the dream through little c.

until picture day.  that's what you see above.  we'll get into that some other time.

the aviator put a time limit on little c's hair.  june 1st, it's coming off.

there were tears.  many many tears.  and little c might have cried too.  i don't know.  who can worry about him when i have to deal with his hair coming off?  seriously, folks.

and so a deal was struck.  little c would let the aviator shave his head, but only after he shaved the aviator's head.  4 year olds aren't very smart.  the aviator's head was already shaved.

,
see?  the aviator is laughing at little c's revenge.  don't worry, i donkey punched him later.  the aviator, not little c.

this part continued for roughly 30 minutes.  the outcome is similar to the starting point.

ugly.

not really.

then it was little c's turn.  and we know the aviator isn't really a grown up.

so he jackassed him.  and little c still smiled.

until he realized what had been done.

the end.



just kidding.  i made him finish the job.

because no matter how much i want to do it, i can't let my kid rock the mullet.

even if i reaaaaaaalllllllly want to.

just for fun.

just for a day.

half a day.

one outing.

it just ain't right.  even here.

not ever.

thank you very much.

you've done the right thing.

fear the mullet.

-dimply stacy

season 2. for real this time.

so i know i've said it before, but i'm trying not to lie so much these days.  i'm back. for real. so shut it.

so what if it's been almost 6 months since my last blog.

so what if i promised to start up again 267 times.

i do what i want.

and i'm sorry.

i thought i'd keep it short and sweet today, you know, to ease you back into this.  you'll thank me later.

see this sweet face?  my precious baby.  little c.

i used to think he bled perfection.

 i used to think he would always be my sweet angel.

 i used to think the he loved me as much as i loved him.  and he'd lie to protect my feelings.  at all costs.  forever.

then yesterday he asked me why i even went for a run.  you know, like "why bother"?

"are you trying to get skinny, mommy?"

"i'm trying"

"why aren't you getting skinny?"

insert expletives.

not really.

then this morning, as i hugged my precious child, (even though he slept in, got up, went to the bathroom and went straight back to his room to play without saying "good morning" or throwing a hug in my general direction because he "forgot"), i asked him why i wasn't skinny.

big mistake.  huge.

he actually had an answer.  ready.  waiting.

"because you sit inside all day.  you have to run every day."

then he grabbed my cheeks with his little crappy hands, turned my face towards his, and repeated "EVERY day."

game over.

see you tomorrow.

-forever dimply stacy

new blog. what?

i realize it has been a long, long, long, long time since i posted something.

the reason for this is simple:  i suck.

starting tomorrow, i will suck less.

and i'll tell you all about our trip to new york.  and whatever else i feel like telling you about.

because that's the kind of gal i am.

solid.

later.

-dimply stacy

i'll show you where to stick that train

this is big c.  my first baby.  my biggest blonde.  my heart and soul.  i love her.  she's super.

that being said...

last weekend we had a ginormous party, for which i baked, a lot.  i mean, a LOT.

2 days later, my precious first born volunteered me to bake cupcakes for her polar express christmas party at school.

"i told my teacher that you wouldn't mind because you love to make them"

"um, thanks big c.  i just baked all weekend long.  when is the party?"

"in 2 days.  oh, and can you make all of them look like trains?"

-- i couldn't tell her now the things i wanted to say.  she's only 8.  and hand gestures were also out of the question.  what?  i'm a good mom.--

"taylor volunteered maily to bake cookies.  and she had the biggest smile on her face."

maily doesn't bake.  she's more of a paper plate and cup mom.  because those are just as essential to any party.

"so mom, you can either make all of them look like trains or put them all together to be a train."

"thanks, big c.  can i cram that train up your .....  i'll see what i can do."

the next day we went to wal-mart.  for other important things.  i can't remember what they were, but they always end up costing $100.  i think it's impossible to get out of that store any cheaper.

"mommy, you can just buy some cupcakes instead."

"....insert a gotohell look..."

"nevermind, mommy.  sorry."

i don't do store bought.  she knows this. it's why she volunteered me.  i'm anal like that.

but in the end, i didn't decorate them like trains.

or arrange them into the shape of a train.

i did this.

i built a train to hold the cupcakes.  at 11 pm the night before.  i couldn't be ordinary.  i couldn't send her with a plate of cupcakes.  and no wow factor.

what would everyone think?

they probably wouldn't give a crap.  why would they?

but i did.

i couldn't live with myself if i hadn't done something to make her happy.  because a box train is just the thing that makes 8 year old girls happy.

oh, and she kindly requested chocolate and red velvet cupcakes.  one flavor wasn't enough.

so i complained.

and then i made her chocolate and red velvet cupcakes.  color coordinated.

because i'm rad.

and that makes her cooler.  and more popular.  and that's what i want for her.

not really.

she's still a big ol' dork.

and maily told me to "get a life" when she saw the train.  but she's still my friend, and taylor is still big c's friend, so status is important to them too.

because in this small town, that means everything.

and when you're part of this family, you have to pull your weight.

or was it, "lose your weight"?

i can never remember.

now excuse me while i inhale a cupcake.  or 4.

-dimply stacy

a 14 year old yogurt story

the aviator gave me permission to post this picture if i repeated to you the story i just told him.

"my legs were solid when i was 18 years old"

"um, i've seen your college pictures"

"well, that was when i was 19.  free reign of food and alcohol.  no discipline.  things started to go south.  i blame the dining hall"

"you blame the dining hall?"

"yeah.  'cuz you know what i used to do after every meal?  i used to get frozen yo..."

"wait, are you telling me a 14 year old frozen yogurt story"

"yep.  i used to get frozen yogurt after every lunch and dinner and put cocoa krispies on it.  that's how it happened."

"you sound fat"

the end.

-dimply stacy