Sold!

 

 

Last time I posted, we were in the middle of training to become foster parents. We had about 24 of our required 30 hours needed and were gearing up our house for the addition of more wee ones. My how things change in a blink!

 

A brief conversation with our neighbor about rising sale prices in our neighborhood, ANOTHER warning letter from our HOA because I didn't ask for approval to plant water conserving flowers, and Rocky's growing desire to move on from construction led us to casually inquiring about potentially selling our house.

 

We met with our realtors hoping for worst case scenario, and were presented three times that amount - something we were not expecting. We took a weekend to discuss what to do with this information. Where did we want to go? What did we want to do? Basically, we decided that the entire US was open to possibilities.

 

We made lists, compared statistics, reviewed articles, reports, and literature. We put everything into consideration. We already knew the cost of living was high for San Diego. The US average cost of living is rated 100. San Diego is 130, Temecula is 117. We kept being drawn back to a portion of the country where the cost of living hovered around 87.

 

In 2007, we had visited St. Louis, MO. I blogged about it here as one of our worst trips ever. It was just...interesting. While we really liked the city and everything we saw, our host scared us away. Now, in 2013, as we started researching places with cost of living in mind, Missouri kept popping back up on our radar.

 

Within a week of meeting with our realtors, our house pre-sold at our asking price. No open houses, no listing on MLS. Easy peasy. Escrow is set to close May 29th.

 

As we continue to hash out the details, I'll fill you all in. We are waiting word back from our Plan A to determine if we go to Plan B. We'll have that answer this week.

 

But what about foster care? It's something we still plan on doing. We learned a lot, and our heart is still set on that path. We just have to put it on hold for now. The opportunity presented before us is just too huge not to try out. We've always wanted to live outside of California, and at 30 years old, this is our chance.

 

I look forward to filling you all in as more information rolls in!

 

XO,

Jake

 



Family Disputes

I have this sister that hates me. No really, she hates me (here, and here).

It's been 2 1/2 years since she ended our relationship. The way she went about it was mean and insidious. 

My family did not come to my defense. My mom implied I was deserving of it. My dad tried to fix the battle. My sister stood her ground. My brothers don't want to get involved, but I have this feeling that they think I'm deserving of it too.

13 years ago I was different. I was a teenager with normal teenage angst. My parents had issues together, and somehow it affected me negatively. I went about binge drinking, shop lifting, ditching school,...just general trouble. I was quick to fight, quick to get upset, quick to leave. 13 years later, I'm quite a different person than my teenage self. I'm settled, I'm calm. I have 3 children, I'm a stay at home mom, I craft for goodness sakes. In support of my husband, I haven't even had a drink in almost 2 years. My family still sees me as this person. It's hard. I hate having to prove myself.

2 1/2 years after sister stood her ground, my parents are still having to choose to decide which daughter to invite to family events. Both sister and I live outside the county lines from which our parents reside. Sister and I are literally 5 miles away from each other. Our children are similar ages. Just recently, my mom stopped at my house after visiting sister and her sick children. Amazingly, my mom was able to transfer that flu virus to my house. My children are sharing sister's germs. Irony.

The holidays are approaching and I'm feeling restless with sister. So badly I want to email her and tell her how much I hate what she has done to me. How much she has pulled at my heart strings. How selfish she is for making my parents choose. How evil she is for verbalizing her disdain of me to my nieces. I hate so much of her. I hate how she makes me feel. I hate that I feel lost in this family and disconnected. I hate that I don't feel grounded. I hate that my mom shows me pictures of the kids. I don't care. I don't want to care. I don't want to know that I'll be missing out on my eldest niece graduating high school. I don't want to know my youngest nephew's personality - of whom I have never met. 

I dream of sister. I dream of punching her. Truth.

I don't know how my husband does it. His dad walked away from him when he was 13. We now share this kindred sadness. He hates sister too. 

I write this here publicly because I can't verbalize it to anyone else. Husband doesn't want to hear my broken record. Parents think I can fix this somehow. How? I've tried and sister bit me again. I want to move and abandon my family. I have my own little family now. Let sister have my parents. Let sister have my grandparents. Let sister have everyone think that she is golden. She, who eloped once after 5 weeks. She who got knocked up the first night she met a man. She who eloped for a second time. She who bad mouths her oldest child's father. She who is money hungry and status greedy. She who...well I could go on.

I'm so angry. I need to yell these things. I need someone to here me. At least I think I do.

Someone teach me to ignore my heart.

First Family Camping Trip

WE SURVIVED!

Yes, it was a mere 18 hours with 2 children in the wild Anza Borrego desert of Southern California...but it was an experience...

On Friday, I posted my husband's Top 10 Must-Haves for Surviving. Well, he..he..he, let's just say Rocky forgot to bring something, and it was probably the most important one of all.  Read after the jump.

We left our house on Saturday at about 1:30p. The kids were wonderful during the 1.5 hour car ride. We have yet to indulge into car-trippin'-technology (ipads, DVD players, etc)...so I guess I'm always shocked and awed that my kids can sit still for that long and not go cuckoo. I mean, sheesh! How did parent's do it before portable viewing platforms? ;)  I guess one word...Raffi.

Rocky didn't really plan on WHERE we were going to camp at Anza Borrego, so we actually didn't find our site till about 4:00p - which gave us an hour to set up. My job: wrangle the kids. His job: set up camp. Eh,...easier said than done. Georgia insisted on disappearing into the wilderness to look for road runners....with her road runner. Houston is still not too convinced he wants to be an outdoors man. I thought maybe showing Houston a stink bug would excite his enthusiasm. 

Georgia disappearing into the wild.

Instead he spent the whole time telling me he was scared of the "beeble," (beatle), and freaking out everytime he saw a black rock on the ground. "Hand! Hand! Gee Yup!" insisting that I either assist him around the imagined beatle by holding his hand or simple picking him up out of harm's way.

Then of course, they all have to poop and pee at the same time. I had to stop Rocky to ask him for the potty, while Georgia wiggled and wiggled, and Houston informed me he needed a new "bi-per" (diaper). For those that are curious - yes we did cloth the entire trip. Why wouldn't we?

EVERY moment is a Kodak Moment

Anyways, remember that ONE thing I said Rocky forgot...it was a LIGHTER. Darkness was upon us, the tent was up...and my sometimes smoker, all the time prepared outdoors man had forgot the damn lighter. So 1st we tried the car lighter. No bueno. But luckily, my good ol' Boy-Scout-of-America-Head-Troop-Leader Dad had loaned us some supplies - one of which was a propane lantern WITH a BOX of matchsticks inside. Thank you Dad!

We made dinner. We roasted marshmallows. And then at about 8:00p - Georgia asked to go to bed. So away she went. I held Houston by the fire, wrapped up in my jacket - and he magically fell asleep. Rocky and I high-fived each other because we just weren't too sure how we were going to get our super scheduled children to bed.

For any of you that follow SSAW, Rocky had insisted I buy 2 - 12 packs of O'Douls. #1) because it was New Year's Eve. #2) because for Rocky, desert camping = lots of drinking. He drank 2, as in 2 beers (not 2 - twelve packs). [I'll post more on this topic later].

It was cold at night, but the kids were wrapped and snuggled between Rocky and I. The only problem we had is when my very squished pregnant bladder decided it must be emptied. Houston woke up from my movements, freaked out, and started crying wailing. Luckily we were FAR from other campers and I pee quick! 

To share with some of my non-California readers: In the past, Rocky and I have frequently camped at a site called Inkopah - which is inside Anza Borrego State Park, but south of the 1st major freeway (Interstate 8) from the San Diego/Mexico border that runs east/west. Which translates to camping within immigrant routes. When you get up to pee at night, you don't know if an illegal alien or border patrol on horseback can see your tush. The nice thing about this particular camp site (FAR north of Interstate 8) was we didn't have to worry about someone cruising too close to our camp, or waking up to find foot prints less than 50 yards from where we slept. Border Wars ain't no joke around here!! But now we have kids - so no more wild camping adventures.

Speaking of kids...they woke up at their normal time - 6:30am. We made oatmeal with Nutella (yum), drank coffee by the fire (yum again), feasted on eggs, ham, and hash browns (roughing it), and then collectively, Rocky and I decided we are too old, and therefore too cold, and decided one night was enough. 

So after breakfast, we started packing up. And our 1st camping trip was over by 11:00am, just in time for the desert sun to start heating up. Here's some pictures from our trip:

Setting up camp.

Happy campers enjoying a snack.

Two thumbs up for camping!

Rocky hard at work

Houston playing in the dirt. Vroooom...

Rocky looking cold and a bit like Jay Leno.

Houston giving himself a sand shower.

Thank goodness we were on our way home for a REAL shower.

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25 Weeks, 14 To Go!

Danielle over at Happenings of the Harper Household  had a fun idea of linking up a pregnancy journal for all of us pregger bloggers (there's gotta be a way of combining that name, like Brangelina) to spill the beans. So I thought I'd join in the fun and give it the ole Mommy Needs An Aspirin finesse.

25 Weeks

Symptoms:  I have 14 weeks left. Can my belly really stretch that much farther? Why do I feel like being pregnant is having that feeling of "coming down with the flu" for 9 mos?! I want to be Michelle Dugger.

Weight Gain:  6.5lbs total. What? What? Plant based eating!

Cravings: Do I have time to have cravings? With my 2 previous kids it was french fries, with this kiddo in the beginning it was spinach. But now that I feel like a walking boat with legs, merely the thought of packing up two hoodrats in the car for a french fries trip is exhausting!

Food Aversions: Too much caffeine. A hot cup of coffee makes me nauseous.

What made me cry this week:  Holly's post over at A Mommy's Blessings. *sigh* She lost baby #7 in her second trimester, and is now expecting again. Bittersweet.

Medical Stuff:  Nada. Apparently having height makes it easier to carry babies without complications (and birth them too) despite being uncomfortable and stricken with the usual pregnancy glamour of hemorrhoids, heartburn, and heathen children.

Thoughts from Georgia:  3 year olds apparently can have babies in their bellies too. Hmmmm...

Something I am excited about:  After-birth energy. I already have sleepless nights - thank you sciatica and scrunched bladder. At least I'll get quality stretches of sleep when the peanut arrives.

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What's On Your Clothes

Today is cold in SoCal...a freezing 53 degrees Fahrenheit. Brrrrrrr. Had to break out the sweatshirts.

I was busy making lunch in my polar fleece when I had this realization. If I was a CSI episode and I died right in this moment, forensics experts would have a field day with my sweatshirt.

Here's what they would find:

Ibuprofen for my little man with his big cold that still spits out half of everything I put in his mouth.

Snot from the never ending temper tantrum Georgia threw at 10:30a because she wanted to lay in the garage (huh?).

Dog hair from my dachshund that sat on my lap while we tried to ignore said temper tantrum.

Sprinkles from Mother's Animal Cookies that I used to bribe Georgia down off the ledge so brother wouldn't wake up from his nap (I never declared to be perfect, did I?).

Flour, bread crumbs, and corn meal from making fried "chicken" for lunch. Loved that Georgia ate zucchini and had NO IDEA. Don't worry, we had grapes too and apple fries too.

Blood from when Houston smacked his head so hard on the kitchen table that he bit himself, and then proceeded to cry bloody drool all over me.

Just checked my watch, it's 1pm. I'm sure if I had several more hours before I died, forensics would find quite a menagerie of substances. I don't know if their little microscopes could pick up the dirty rain water from my leaking bathroom roof, or the cup of water Daddy left within reach for the kids to spill over themselves and the carpet - thank goodness it was just water! They'd probably be able to find the grease from the paper towel that Houston just now decided to pull out of the trash can. And now that Houston can open doors, I'm sure toilet water will be on my sweatshirt some time today as I pull him out of the camode.

Isn't life with little ones grand?

What would be on your sweatshirt today?

Mother's Day Disaster

I loved watching and reading about everyone else's fabulous mother's day. Mine was FAR from perfect.

For starter's, I'm not a fan of mother's day. Another one of those corny holidays, where you're required to tell people how you feel about them even though the sentiments feels forced. Yup, Debbie Downer here, at your service! My own mother and I have a far from perfect relationship, I'm not close with either of my grandma's, and Rocky has his own issues with his mommy dearest - needless to say, positive maternal relationships are not my forte.

I didn't put a lot of expectation into Rocky doing anything for mother's day. We don't really have the money for silly spending (though a new set of Tupperware would of been greatly appreciated and useful), and Rocky's not one for making crafts. In fact, Saturday night I needed to finish some last minute grocery shopping. Rocky opted to join us, and tried to make an escape in the grocery store for the in-store florist.

Sunday morning arrived. I set my alarm clock for 6am so we could make it on time for 8am church service. I got up, took a shower, got both the kids up, fed the kids pancakes, got both the kids dressed, and then drove all four of us to church. Rocky was crabby.


We had gotten into a fight Saturday night because of his crabiness, and I knew Sunday wasn't going to be any better.

We got home from church. While Houston napped, Rocky volunteered to make brunch (brunch is 10am in our house), which was great, but I cleaned the whole damn kitchen after that.  I was slaving away in the kitchen cleaning grease from every little crevice, and Rocky was busying himself on the computer shopping on CL for RC cars. My internal thermostat was beginning to register rising heat.

Rocky continued to sit on the computer while I finished folding 2 loads of laundry, picking up tidbits around the house, changing sheets on both kid's beds (gotta love leaky diapers and leaky 2 year olds on the same night). All of this while Houston napped, a very LONG nap. We had planned to go to the Legoland Sea Life Aquarium after H's nap, but he didn't wake up till almost noon, the aquarium was an hour's drive, and Georgia needs a nap no later than 3, so I knew time was limited and it wasn't ideal to go (I like toddler's on schedules = less temper tantrums).

Rocky moved from the computer to the bed, where he proceeded to take a nap while I made lunch. That internal thermostat was really beginning to rise. Somewhere in his hour long nap my thermostat reached boiling, and I let the beast unleash. I accused him of being lazy, and unappreciative. All I wanted for mother's day was to sit on my ass and do NOTHING. Was it possible to not change a single diaper today?

We spent the rest of the afternoon not talking to each other. Rocky went outside to do yard work, and I took the kids to go buy dog food. I even tried spoiling Georgia with a toy, but she was pretty upset Daddy wasn't joining us (knowing he was at home without her was really upsetting). She threw a fit in Wal-Mart, and some man laughed and chuckled and said, "Nice mother's day, huh?" If only he knew.

Home from the store, Georgia sees Daddy is still in the yard. She knows it's nap time. I know it's nap time. Daddy is on his own schedule and invites her outside, which I oppose, resulting in another crying fit from Georgia (we all know what happens when she doesn't have a nap!). Georgia wins. Outside she goes. I start prepping dinner.

Sometime later, Georgia has to go to the bathroom, and I'm able to convince her to lay down with the promise of chips in bed. By 6pm, Rocky is still outside ****** around. I begin to feed the kids, he joins us, and then I clean up dinner.

That was my mother's day in a nutshell.

Now, I could allow you to think my husband is horrible. But he's not. There have been worse mother's days (and Christmas's, Valentine's Days, etc), in which Rocky was blatantly drunk or hung over. Hahaha, I'm really proving my point that he's not horrible now!

Here's the thing, I don't need mother's day to define my relationship with my husband. Sure, it wasn't fun logging onto facebook and seeing everyone else's fab posts, knowing my husband was doing absolutely NOTHING. But I don't need other people's relationships to define my relationship either. Rocky is a constant work in progress (have you ever stopped and really understood that statement, "work in progress."), but aren't we all?

He did make up for it by coming home Monday with FOUR pairs of size 11 shoes. Which in my book, is like coming home with the winning lottery ticket and saying we can retire before the age of 30. He did take me out to dinner - and internally I grimaced the entire time knowing how much this was costing us financially (mind you - we did only spend $25 on dinner). Being married isn't about perfection (or money), the perfect mother's day, or getting expected gifts. It's about knowing when to put your tail inbetween your legs, trying to be a team, and finding a reason to laugh when you least want to.
Apology granted, Rocky.

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My Life As A Campfire: Part 2

In My Life As A Campfire: Part 1, I left off feeling hopeless and lost after a sucker punch verbal wipe-out with my elder sister. My parents were conflicted in choosing to deal with their grown daughters, therefore alienating - and somewhat abandoning - our (parents and child) relationship.

This 1-2 punch from my sister sent me into a tail spin of depression. I became focused on the event: fixated on the coulda-woulda-shoulda's. I found myself crying in the shower and self-talking out loud every time I got behind the wheel. I felt like Carrie - asked to the senior prom by the most popular boy in school, only to have pig blood dumped on her forehead, and her mother scorn her.

If I was such an awful person that my parents could not defend me, and my sister could permanently end our relationship, maybe I needed to change? My whole life I had wanted to be like my big sister, maybe I needed to change that? Maybe I needed to be everything she wasn't?

So I threw myself into becoming a better person - becoming anything but my sister. I was determined to be frugal, to be thoughtful, to give and participate in charities, to be creative, to find passion, to mend my relationship with God, to build lasting relationships with those I would not speak badly about, to be a help meet to my husband ( look that one up!), to provide routine and structure to my kids, to nourish positive relationships between siblings, to not be concerned of my social status, to be content and happy with the gifts of my life, to inspire and to be inspried.

In the process of throwing myself into these promises, I began to forget the reasoning behind it.  In general, I felt happier, and amazing things were beginning to happen all around me. My entire life I have lived with the theory that there is a rainbow at the end of every struggle, and a positive thought can come out of the most dire circumstances.

You see, there were many logs in my fire. Some good, some bad, but I wasn't doing anything about them. You can't just pour lighter fluid on a stack of logs and simply hope it ignites. My sister had become the match, my parents response became the act of throwing it on the logs.

Newer, bigger, better logs are now constantly being added to my fire , just as old logs burn out and turn into ash. Behind it all, is the all-encompassing oxygen that continues to feed the flame - my flame. And wow! Does it burn strong now.

How do you ignite the flame for your life? What logs do you add to your pile to build a better fire? How do you keep your flame burning?

Happy S'mores!

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My Life As A Campfire: Part 1

For some of those that have known me for years (and years and years), you might have noticed a change in me that is portraying itself as super mom syndrome.  Although I would love to credit the birth of my children for changing my life, they are not the reason I have chosen to polish myself up and be the best Jake I can be.

I wish I could say it was re-connecting my relationship with God, but in actuality, it was a very personal and hurtful fight that ignited the flame within me to become a better person (not a super mom).

I have a half sister, eight years my senior. She is from my mom's 1st marriage, but the word "half-sister" was banned from our childhood vocabulary. She is MY father's daughter, and we were raised to not see it any other way. I admired her growing up. What little sister doesn't envy their big sis? She was blessed with being thin, popular, and blond. She had a lot of friends, a lot of boyfriends, was Vice President of her senior class, and I was just her bratty little sister.

As we got older, we attempted a relationship. We both had children, we were both married. As with any relationship (including marriage), there will be ups & downs, including disagreements with your adult siblings.  My sister chose to end our relationship, changing the term from just simply "sister" to "estranged sister."

I was VERY blindsided by her decision. In fact, we had just moved to Temecula (May 2010), and were living 7 miles down the road from her home in Murrieta. I sent her a text inviting her over for a play date, and received no response. Several days later, I received an email from her. I had been "cc'd" on an email she was sending to her BFF regarding addresses for her upcoming baby shower. Under my name and address, my sister had written, (this is copied directly from the e-mail she sent me):



Okay, so after much internal debate, I have decided that I do need to invite my sister (it's the right thing to do).  Now I'll just wish that she doesn't come!

At first I was surprised, and thought she didn't mean to CC me on the email. Seconds later, a new email popped up in my box:

I copied you on an email I recently sent to Kelly.  I want you to know that I hate feeling the way that is explained in the email.  I hate having hurt feelings about mean hurtful things that were said in the past.  I hate feeling that I can't even invite you to my baby shower because of all the dumb childish behavior on both our parts in the past.  Just know that by me copying you in that email wasn't me trying to hurt you or play games, I am just so tired of the tension and animosity.  I needed to get it off my chest. 

I went back to the original e-mail, and scrolled down to find an entire conversation of e-mails between my sister and her BFF, both grown women calling me bratty, immature, ungracious, and a whole bunch of stuff that I shouldn't have been privy too. It felt like high school gossip, and they were my bullies. My sister would not respond to any of my emails, texts, or phone calls.

I received mixed reactions from my parents. My dad was furious. My mom argued that the email was deserved, something about "you can only get bit so much by Jake..." My mom became mad at my dad for becoming involved, and suddenly I was thrust back into adolescence: sitting in a therapists office, between my parents, being accused of being a rift in their marriage, a catalyst for an impending divorce (they are still married by the way).

My sister's email was hurtful, my parent's reaction was painful.

I remember writing a post on good ol' Facebook about not being able to sleep because I was dreaming about my bitchy sister. Although we weren't friends on FB, somehow my sister found the post, and soon enough my dad was calling on the phone yelling at me for slander. Days later I got in trouble AGAIN for sending an email to her that's message was misinterpreted (good ol' email!). Again, another phone call from dear old dad yelling at me. My mom refused to talk about ANY of it. My husband was tired of seeing me cry and asked me to stop talking to him about it. My internal dialogue was saying, "I feel like there is no one in my court, but why is that?  I must be a horrible person. No one wants to stand up for someone not worth fighting for."

My soul felt lost.....

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Why is Mommy's Bed So Fun?

Rocky and I are not co-sleepers. #1) because I am 6ft tall and our bed is a queen. #2) Rocky is a deep sleeper and has placed his pillows on a tiny one once (she was okay, but it freaked me out!). #3) the bed is a place for mommy & daddy to reconnect at night as Rocky & Jessica, husband and wife. In fact, Houston has NEVER slept in our bed. There was never a need for him to. He enjoys sleeping on his tummy in his own bed (yes, I'm a bad mom and ignore ALL doctor's advice for back sleeping - please judge me.....now!)

BUT, mommy and daddy's bed is still a place for tickles, and cuddles, and laundry! Rocky was working late the other night, and I passed the time by letting them lay on the bed with me.

Tired babies + big bed = utter silliness.

They started out so sweet and innocent, drinking their milk in their jammies

with their Fresh 1 Blankies.

Houston started feeling a little wiggly. This is the beginning of chaos.

Georgia was still trying to be sweet, but the giggles were creeping up.

How can you sit still and be sweet when you have a little brother like that?

After that, I couldn't even get pictures of their faces.

Sacks of potatoes on my bed.

You try co-sleeping with that!



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Warm Weather Means Bathing Beauties

The last couple days of March have been WARM, and I'm certainly not complaining! This will be Houston's first big summer since last summer he was a tiny tot. Today was our first official pool day. I thought I could just sit back and make my grocery list and cut my coupons. SO did not happen! I spent the whole time chasing after Houston. You know what they say though, you always get a better tan if you're out doing something!

Two babies means we need a bigger pool this summer!

Out

In
(and out, and in, out, in, out and in again)

Both of them running away from the pool....because??

Georgia lounging like a true California Girl.

He may only say 5 words, but look at that boy climb!

YES! Made it. Now what? Oh? Go down the slide backwards? OK!
(I put down the camera for that one!)

Cheeeese!

Nap time. What a stud in his red diaper.
With his custom Fresh 1 Blankie.

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Georgia vs. Behavior Chart

Georgia throwing a temper
at 23mos.

As a mom, an on-going goal is always trying to be a better mom. My newest goal is to try and limit my yelling for emergencies and not for everyday discipline. Staying home all day with my kids sometimes drives me bonkers! I hate hearing myself raising my voice, and I find it completely ineffective. I also hate hearing other moms yell in public (which is something I rarely do).

This might be an older picture of Georgia, and although she no longer throws out her arms and legs in complete protest of EVERYTHING, Georgia is still struggling with the genetic disease of the Terrible Two's.

She doesn't help clean up, she doesn't listen, she hits her brother, she refuses to share; she is just a terrible two year old! I've tried a number of things - reasoning, spanking, time outs, yelling - and I am still having very limited success.

So, Nanny 911 here I come! I have introduced Georgia to the Star Chart System. Since she is at the stage where stickers are gold, we have set-up a chart so that she can earn stickers every day for these simple tasks: listening, sharing, cleaning up, helping, and pulling up her own pants/panties (yes, she even refuses to do this on her own). The chart is color-coded (each color star gets a task), and placed in the most active part of our house, at a level that she can see the stickers, but not grab the chart and run off with it.

Coincidentally, the Star Chart is placed right over her new time out mat! Right now Target has these cute little 18" Safari rugs for $2.50 - perfect size and price for a time-out mat!  I bought 3, and put 2 in storage in case we need to have several time-out spots, or for when the day comes that I have to put multiple children on time-out. I've always had my eye out for mats this size, and it perfect timing they were available at Target the day I went looking for one. Of course, there is an official time-out mat distributed by Bright Products called a Take-Out Time-Out Mat available thru Amazon for $9.63.

Time-Out Spot w/Star Chart Above

Georgia's Chart. Nothing fancy, but it does the trick!

I invested an additional $5 into a digital kitchen timer that sits on the desk next to the time-out spot. Although I have given plenty 'o time-outs before, I never timed them on a timer (and counting in my head just isn't working). So far, Georgia is loving the Star Chart, and I don't feel the need to yell, which is a bigger plus! I know this system isn't a brand new genius idea, but dang it! It sure feels good implementing it into my house!

Do you follow a behavior chart system? Is there a different system that works for you?

To purchase a Take-Out Time-Out Mat by Bright Products, click here.

To print your own free time-out chart, click here.

Happy Disciplining!

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Family Trip to Big 5

There was a 100% chance of rain on Sunday. Houston woke up early with the sniffles so we opted out of trying a new Church this week. I'm one of those wonderful moms that tries to protect other children from my germ infested child, hoping that others will also do the same. By noon, we were twiddling our thumbs, waiting for the rain that hadn't arrived and wondering what to do without spending a dime. Being new to the area, and having two small kids has limited our abilities to explore free, fun, things to do.

We decided to get in the car and just drive, when the idea of going to Big 5 popped into my head. Big 5 has some fun interesting items that would keep Georgia's little brain entertained, and if all else failed, they had punching bags.

Getting out of the car, we saw the coolest thing outside the store front. It was a GIANT camping chair called the Kingpin Giant Folding Chair. It's 5 feet tall and holds up to 400 lbs, so of course we had to take pictures with it.

Rocky waiting for me to say "1, 2, 3!" You can see his feet aren't touching the ground.

Houston looks so tiny!

However, there was an even better part of the trip.  Georgia was walking the aisles at Big 5 with Daddy. She stops, points and says, "Look Dad, tiny helmets!" Daddy says, "No honey, those are athletic cups."


Sunday = Family Funday!

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