How to break into my house

This morning I was trying to go to the bank and dollar store (yes, this is where I SHOP) before Nikki came over for noon. Cason had a pretty big sleep in but it was still within reach. Then, Kiara dumped milk all over her super cute outfit.



So I had to change her.

She's totally checking herself out in the full length mirror, scary.

While changing, Nikki called to cancel. She's heading to the beach (oh beach, how I miss you!) with her sister. No biggie. Bean changed, Cason's ready, phone rings. Lincoln wants to come over and use the computer. But he can only come over IMMEDIATELY. I told him that I almost had the kids out the door and I didn't want to lose my momentum. He's coming over tomorrow instead. Kids out. Tried to unlock the doors using the fob.(I have been having so many issues with this little piece of convenience) Fail. Open the front (car) door, unlock the other doors and throw my purse and keys on the seat as per. Go to open the back door. Locked. Try to open the front door. Locked. First thought, "don't panic. Call Cory, they have an extra set of house keys, Matt's car keys are in the house" (Thank GOD he left his keys. He NEVER does that! I have never been so grateful in my LIFE) Wait, my cell phone is in my purse. In the car. That I just locked. Okay, go to Danielle (neighbour), see if she could watch the kids while I break into the house. Get to the gate. Zeus is on the loose. I will not enter there with him out, holding 2 children. Not gonna happen.



Back in our yard, put Cason on the grass, pray he won't eat anything and go to get the ladder out of the garage so I can bust in through a window. Garage is locked. For the first time in MONTHS. Think. The table that I put outside for Kiara! Perfect. Move it to the office window, pry open the storm window, rip the screen off and start trying to open the main window. It's stuck. I'm wiggling my finger in the small crack (that's what he said!) and nothing's happening. Kiara keeps trying to get to me, I keep hoping that she won't fall on Cason. I'm sweating. Shaking. Nervous. What if I can't get this open?! Are we gonna camp and not eat until Matt comes home? Wait, I won't be able to pick him up from the airport! I push at the top, I push at the bottom, more finger wiggling, FINALLY, it starts to move. "Dear sweet baby Jesus in the hay let me get this!" Open all the way. Now I need to get in. I felt like a whale trying to get in through a service elevator. I was not exuding grace at this moment and you guessed it, I got stuck. There I am, half in, half out of the window on the side of my house. Ass in the air, I KNEW I looked redonkulous. I had to giggle at the site people driving by on the road would be faced with. Managed to get all of me in. Dirty and a little scraped. Couldn't get the storm window back on. It's still sitting on the side of the house.
I'm so resourceful.

Small and Wise

The battle has begun. Those of you who know, know that in attitude, Kiara is freakishly like me. It's scary to be honest. Today, we had the first of which I'm sure is to be many, battles.
I was playing on the floor with Cason. She stood over me, raised her arm, and threw her stone down at me. I sent her to her room. Gave her the old, "that's completely inappropriate and unacceptable behaviour!" line. This is nothing new. I sit her on the chair and give her some time to chill out. Who are we kidding? It's mostly time for me. Today, however, for reasons unknown, I decided it was imperative that she apologize. I wouldn't let her leave until she did. Don't panic. I didn't just tell her this and walk away. I told her that I wanted to hear "sorry". That's all. One word. I kept coming back and reminding her what I was waiting for. I was pretty calm. Even tried a repeating game. Fail. After 40 minutes I went to my parenting expert, google, to see what I was doing wrong. Maybe some tips. Heck, maybe I'm expecting far too much of my almost 2 year old. Then I came across this:

Not a day goes by that I don't hear at least one teacher or administrator say to a child, "I want you to apologize." The child usually looks down, scrapes her foot
against the carpet or pavement, and says, "Sorry." It can be expected
that the infraction the child was asked to apologize for will soon be
recommitted. This happens, of course, because the child is not really
sorry for her behavior. She is performing a social function that
someone else has asked of her. When a person is truly sorry, she speaks words of apology in the moment, shows a sense of remorse, sadness, or concern, and thinks carefully about how she speaks to and acts toward others in the future.
Many adults speak words of apology lightly. They do not mean that they
feel bad about unkind words spoken or unkind acts committed. If we
expect our children to learn to apologize truthfully, we must model
the behavior ourselves. We must also teach our children when and how
to apologize. Simply saying "Sorry" doesn't cut it.

Now I feel like trash. Why oh why isn't this mom thing easier?! Who's funny idea is it to give us children that are a reflection of ourselves?! NO FAIR! **stomps feet**




Me:"I'm sorry I made you stay in your room so long."
Kiara:"Ok mom"
Me:"It's just that I want you to learn empathy but I guess I can't really force that can I?"
Kiara:"Ya mom. Where's Jax?"

Dancing Bean

My dear loyal followers. I have not forgotten you and ridden off into the success sunset. Things are just a little crazy right now. Soon, I'll even have time to tell you all about it. For now, here's a sweet little vid of Kiara dropping it like it's hot. Kids these days.

Douche Bag!

Dear DB,
This stupid truck-car-whatever-the-FUCK-thing does not make you sweet. In fact, it makes you look like a four collar popped douche bag. For reals bro.



I don't know why you're driving this THING around downtown. I do, however, LOVE your complete disregard for the parking rules. No need to park the same way everyone else does. You are such an INDIVIDUAL. Plus, I'm sure parking that thing is, like, so hard and stuff.

Even when I stay home, the retards flock to me. Faaa-LIP!