The highlight of my Memorial Day

was these two ladies. They are some hot ladies.

A close second to these ladies:

Some delicious banana cream pie I made from scratch this morning. Forgot to take a pic before I cut my "taste testing" piece. Have to sample the goods, make sure its not poison before I let my kids eat any. It passed the test.

At the top of David's Memorial Day 2010 highlights:

Playing video games with my brother Josh. What's more patriotic than saving New Orleans from zombies? Not much.

Happy Memorial Day!

More fashion tips from Alana

Painting your nails two different colors is tres chic. (You can't tell from the pic, but her toenails are half blue, half orange.
Blue otter pops make your lips blue, which is so in right now.
If your mommy picks out your shirt and shorts, insist on wearing black sequined dress shoes so you can put your own individual touch on your outfit.
Combing your hair is optional. Just have your mommy put a "Jessie braid"** in it.
**Jessie from Toy Story 2.
Chicken legs are sexy. Show them off when you can.

The definition of cool

As we grow and evolve from year to year, our definition of cool changes with us. The things we thought were cool as kids are probably not the same things we like now. Hopefully.

When I was in seventh grade, there were two things that girls had to do to even be considered cool. Both of them involved carrying something in your back pocket. One: a hairpick. None of us had afros, so I'm unsure why these were necessary, but we used them anyway. Two: a CoverGirl compact of pressed powder. This was about the limit of make-up any of us were allowed to wear, but we carried them around proudly. Those imprints in the butt of your pants defined you. Without them, you were lame.

When we moved up to high school, coolness took on a whole new meaning. Being cool wasn't just something you could achieve by carrying something in your pocket, it was about everything you did. You had to present yourself a certain way. You wanted to fit in by dressing the part and doing the right things. So you could get some Dr. Martens, wear some babydoll shirts, part your hair down the middle (yuck), and wear your Tommy Hilfiger clothes. You could even sport a No Fear shirt if you were feeling sassy. You could stand in the breezeway by the soda machine where the upper classmen hungout (being an upper classmen automatically made you cool). You could carry your Jansport backpack and your FiveStar notebook. You could even get a pager. (No one had a cell phone when I was a teenager, except Zack on Saved by the Bell).

If you're really going for coolness points in high school, you can drive a nice car. Put in a CD player. Turn the bass up way too high. Or drive your parents awesome truck. Peel out whenever possible.

Then you can play high school sports. If you're good, everybody will know your name. My school was small, so everybody knew your name anyway, but you get the point. Being the star of the football/basketball team gets you a few coolness points. Maybe even Homecoming King or Queen.

In your early twenties being cool is a whole different thing. What makes you cool depends on who you hang out with. For some people, being cool is dressing a certain way and hanging out at bars. For others, its making your kids and home your life. Making them the best that they can be.

Later in life some people define their coolness by what others have achieved. They take credit for their children's accomplishments. When their children do well in sports or academics, they are proud and consider themselves accomplished.

At this point in my life, coolness has a new definition. Its more about what I don't do. I see plenty of examples of what not to do every time I leave my house. I see someone who looks like a total dork and I think to myself, "They look so dumb, there's no way I'll ever look that dumb." So I don't carry a fanny pack (sorry Aunt Beth, but we both know its not cool). I don't perm my hair. I don't wear shoes where my feet hang off the edge. I don't wear clothes that are too small and make me look ridiculous. Also on my don't wear list: patriotic shirts from Walmart, old lady visors, elastic waisted pants, socks that go past my ankles, "mom" jeans, blu-blocker sunglasses, socks with sandals.

I also don't clean my kids faces with my own spit. Not that I've never tried. Alana told me it was "gwoss". So being cool is a work in progress. And I think I'm reasonably cool. Jury's still out on whether my kids agree.

Pop music junkie

Alana is obsessed with listening to music. OBSESSED.

Everyday she asks to listen to my iPod. She gets more use out of it than I do.

If you try to change the station in the car she gets mad. Me was singing dat song. What dat song called? Mommy, what dat song? Who sings dis song? Me yike dis song. Me yike B.O.B. Me yike Bruno Mars. Me yike Lady GaGa.

Occasionally David will change the channel on the TV to MTV Jams, where they just play videos. But if he does that, beware. We can't change the channel because Alana is too busy dancing and singing. I think we let her watch American Idol too much.

Even Ava dances. She's gonna be obsessed too.

But Alana's number one music addiction is our iTunes account. Me want to yisten to music on the 'puter. Me wanna hear dat "Break, break yours heart" song. Me yike dat song. Then me wanna hear Lady GaGa. Me yike Lady GaGa. (Then she says "Romance" all crazy like Lady GaGa). What's dis song? Me yike dis song. Me wanna hear dat "Billonaire" song. Then bay-bay (Nothin' on you by B.O.B.).

She will sit at the 'puter for nearly an hour listening to the same five songs over and over again. She lip-sings the words to all the songs and turns the volume up way too loud when I'm not looking. Then when I walk back into the kitchen she turns it down again real quick. I thought I'd have at least till she was a teenager to argue with her about music volume.

Summertime blues

I'm one of those people who is never happy with the current season.

It's December and freezing outside? I wish it were June and I could hang up the hoodie and bring out the sandals.

It's July and I'm sweating at 9 am? I long for cool and crisp October, when the weather is so close to perfect it should be illegal to stay indoors all day.

No matter what the temperature outdoors, I usually wish it were different.

I love the freedom that comes with summer. Not just a break from school (that part hasn't mattered to me for a long time), but the freedom to wear whatever you want and not have to worry about being cold. I'm a flip-flops and shorts kind of girl. I literally never wear regular shoes in the summer. My feet need to breathe, and I keep my toenails painted the whole summer.

And I have to mention the freedom to go swimming. As a kid I loved swimming, now Alana loves it. I'm sure Ava will love it too, since she loves the bathtub, and a pool is like a big outdoor bathtub. Last summer when I was pregnant with Ava I went swimming with Alana at least twice a week. It was so nice to get into a big pool of cold water when it was 110 outside.

But I hate the scorching Arizona heat. I already turned my cooler on, and its like 9am. And we only have a swamp cooler where we live, which doesn't really get the job done to my satisfaction in July and August. Know all those people who say "But its a dry heat"? They are wrong. In July and August its humid and sticky. And I'm miserable. I may have lived in Arizona almost my whole life, but I've never developed a tolerance for the heat. It's even worse when I'm pregnant. Last summer I was hot all day every day. And the whole time I was waiting for winter.

Fast forward to December. I can't go to Walmart without putting on "actual" shoes and a sweater. I must bundle up my children and my laundry pile is full of socks. I hate to match socks. Does anybody like it? Its during this time that I wait for warmer weather. Not that its ever that cold here in southern Arizona, but it gets a little chilly. Chilly enough to hate going outside early in the morning. Makes me grateful that I don't have to leave my house every day to go to work. Not at this point in my life anyway.

The only time of year I'm mostly content with the weather is October. October is a great month. Its cool at night, only about 80 during the day, and it doesn't have the incessant wind that April and May have. If only it could be October year round.

Just the facts, ma'am

Just stopping by my own blog to apologize for its current lameness.

My computer was broken, now its healed, and that seems to be the direction I've taken my blog. Two blogs about my computer and it's health, nothing interesting.

And the post before the computer posts was about Play-Doh. Not exactly stimulating reading material.

But I promise to make it better. I can change, I promise. Just give me a chance and I will knock your socks off. For a couple months anyway, till I start school. Then its every blogger for themself.

I can't write without inspiration anyway. I'll get to it later, just be patient. As soon as I do the dishes. That's when I get my best ideas. When doing a monotonous task that I do several times a day.

See you later.

It's a miracle!

My computer has made another amazing recovery!

My free anti-virus software finally did its job and isolated the dumb thing. I turned it on yesterday and all of the programs and such were working, but not the internet. The computer is useless to me without the internet.

So I shut it off and let it be for a few hours, which was a really long time for me. I hate unfinished business and the unknown, so waiting to see if it would work again took forever. But around six I turned it on, clicked on internet explorer, and it worked!

So now I'm free to be me online once again.

Turn your harddrive to the left and cough

I am currently devastated. My computer has crashed. It is ill. Sick. Under the weather.

I hope its not contagious!

Monday during the day I was busy-ish so I didn't give my blog the TLC I usually do. I thought I'd hae time later. There's always tomorrow.

But there wasn't. My computer crashed on Monday night when David was online. It is in critical condition. Its in a computer coma. I am sad and depressed without it.

In December it had the same thing. It has a virus that claims to be anti-virus software and infects every program and file on your computer. Whenever you try to open/access anything a window pops up saying that its infected with a virus. Then it asks you if you want to activate/purchase its updated anti-virus software. What a scam! You infected my computer making it impossible for me to function normally, and now you want me to give you money? No way.

The last time this happened my computer sat untouched for a month. Then, right before I was going to take it to get repaired, I turned it on to see if it was still doing the same thing. It was a miracle! It worked! Praise the computer god!

Apparently I shouldn't of left my computer go the last few months without proper medical care. Because the same thing has struck once again. Its the herpes of computer viruses. You think its gone away, but its just waiting to strike again right when you least expect it. Right when you want to use your computer its right there, impossible to ignore.

So now I don't know what to do. I use the computer daily. Since I first purchased it in February 2006 I have gone online every day. I use it for banking, all of my bills are paperless and I keep pictures on it. After the December outbreak I backed up most of my pics online, but I never got around to getting all of them. I thought I had more time.

I'm not the only one who procrastinates around here either. David never bothered to buy a portable harddrive to back up his iTunes, so if we lose our data then he will lose all 3,000 songs on his iPod.

For now my strategy is to let my computer sit untouched and see if my luck repeats itself. Not that I have a ton of other options. I'm not really rolling in the dough, and computer repair is expensive. If that doesn't work I'll have to go with Plan B. Pay someone an outrageous amount of money to fix my computer. Don't really have a lot of options there. I'm not buying a brand new computer when I can just fix mine.

But for now I'm going to blogger rehab. I'm cut off from the world. No internet access unless I drive 15 minutes to go to my parent's house and use their computer. And their internet connection is so slow. Its agonizing. I'm used to DSL, and their's is practically dial-up. But its my only option.

P.S. If you are a new follower I'll follow you back as soon as my computer is broken, but I'm out of time right now, so see you next time.

Hungry fella?

Here's a couple of things I made this weekend. Blueberry pie and a ham sandwich with broccoli. Don't they look delicious? Don't start salivating just yet.

They're made of play-doh. Yes, its true. I have way too much time on my hands am super creative.

And due to my laziness this morning and major sinus headache, this is what counts as a post today. Pictures of crap I made out of play-doh my endless creativity. You don't even want to know how long it took me to make all those blueberries.

Shrek-tastic Saturday

Yesterday we went and saw Shrek 4.

To quote Alana, "That. Movie. Was. Awesome."

I mostly agree with her. It was pretty good. Could've been longer. But it was funny.

Rumpelstiltskin was pretty good. I think I need to take a cue from him and get myself an angry wig. Maybe people will take me more seriously when I'm mad if I have an angry wig.

Alana was extra happy that she got to see her favorite part from the commercials twice. You know the annoying little kid in the preview who says, "I love you Daddy!" That's her favorite part. And they played it twice.

And Ava went to sleep half way through. So I got to watch the movie in peace. Even if she smelled like movie theater pickles.


I do have some tips for enjoying the movie though. Don't go with a headcold or your in-laws. Sinus headache + mother-in-law = grouchy me. Just ask David. He'll tell you.

Other tips for enjoying the movie. Eat a delicious flatbread sandwich from Subway right before. Mmmm. And then sneak in a bunch of cookies. Way better than candy. Diaper bags are so useful sometimes.

In other Saturday news: Ava's new hairclip got lost at Target. I just bought it. I was a little grouchy about that. It would've been different if I was the one carrying her when it got lost. But I was in a different part of the store. I don't enjoy spending an hour in the toy section of Target, so I wandered off to look at fun stuff.

Also: Alana got Gator Golf. She is now obsessed with that game. And she's no golf prodigy. But neither am I so I can't really judge.

Next on my list of kids movies I have to see: Toy Story 3. Alana is hyped. She already has her Toy Story shirt from Old Navy. She even wore it to see Shrek.

Because I have kids

Someone just told me that the throw pillows on the couch taste sour.

At least half of the plates, bowls and underwear in my house have cartoon characters on them.

There are four different naked Barbies in my bathtub right now.

The top of my entertainment center has at least ten toys that have been confiscated for being too annoying.

The only band-aids in my house have princesses on them.

I've been a referee to a mean game of hopscotch. And Candy Land.

I've cut open six otter pops today.

I've also made one peanut butter sandwich with no crust and poured four bowls of cereal. In the orange bowl.

There are two episodes of Wow-Wow Wubbzy in my DVR list.

I know the theme songs to at least ten different cartoons. Spongebob. Wubbzy. Wonder Pets. Dora. Ni-hao Kailan. Backyardigans. Johnny Test. Diego. Max & Ruby.

I've seen every episode of Wow-Wow Wubbzy.

I just vacuumed half a pound of glitter off the couch.

I've watched two Pixar movies. Today.

I can vacuum while holding a baby. And mop. But not sweep.

I fold ten loads of laundry a week. And wash dishes 3 - 4 times a day.
I'm ready to go to sleep again and its only 2 pm.

How about a round of applause...

for the baby who learned how to clap!

Yay for Ava!

Don't act like you're not impressed!

Fashion tips from Alana

Alana's fashion tips from a typical Wednesday:

Never be afraid to support your favorite football team. Even if its May. Go Cowboys!

Plaid ballet flats go with every outfit.

Big pink flowers in your hair dress up any occasion.

Never let your mommy pick out your clothes. Her fashion sense is way different than yours.

Note to moms of kids who like to pick out their own clothes: Buy lots of neutral bottoms. Then when your stubborn kid insists on wearing a football jersey to the grocery store, their outfit won't look as bad. Still bad, just not as bad.

When I grow up...

In your senior year of high school everybody has the same question to ask you.

What do you want to do after high school?

To me this was sooo annoying. How are you supposed to know at 17 what you want to do for the rest of your life?

I'm 28 and I still don't know. Can't I just win the lottery?

So after high school I did nothing. Seriously. Nothing. For over a month I just mooched off of my parents with no plans or career in sight.

Then my dad made me get a job. Either that or move out. If he hadn't made me get a job I would've coasted along as long as I could.

Its not like I could move out or anything. I didn't have any money, so I couldn't pay rent anywhere. And I didn't have a car, partly due to my lack of job.

So I did the most convenient thing I could think of. I got a job at Wendy's, making $5.50 an hour. Eventually I also got a car, which I had until a couple of months ago. (Read about that here).

But as far as future plans went, I had none. I still didn't know what I wanted to do. I did know I didn't want to work at Wendy's forever, but that was it.

After forever (like almost five years) of working at Wendy's, I finally quit. I moved on to a boring accounting position at the City of Benson. It was sooo boring. Not challenging, not enough work to fill the day, no a/c, people talked crap behing your back a lot. But it did have good health insurance, which I was grateful for when I got pregnant with Alana.

After I had Alana I quit working outside my home altogether. No more boring job. No more listening to dumb people complain about stuff they didn't understand. I had to deal with dumb people at both jobs, so I was so grateful when I was finally done with that.

I know that someday I will have to return to the workplace. But I don't want to go back to a dead-end job that doesn't pay anything. I don't want to listen to people complain about their gas bill or their hamburger. I don't want to have to touch raw hamburger all day. Or answer questions about why the mayor made someone's gas bill too high that month. (People seriously said that).

So my only alternative is to go back to school. To do something where I don't make minimum wage. Then after I am qualified to do a job that makes more than minimum wage, David can go back to school.

So we can buy a house someday and own more than one car. And do luxury stuff, like buy groceries and pay the electric bill. We dream big.

The Orange Bowl

I'm nearing the end of my part-time referee gig.

No more breaking up pointless fights. No more fruitless efforts to get a couple of three year olds to agree on a movie to watch. One of them always wants to watch Kung Fu Panda. Always.

The major fight between them is one of epic proportions. Battles have been waged. Lines have been drawn. No peace treaty has been reached.

They continue to fight over one important thing. I think they're headed to the Supreme Court over this one.

The orange bowl.

There is no difference between this bowl and the other bowls. Only that it is orange.

Yet every time they get something to eat, they fight over this bowl. Every single time.

I don't see the appeal. What's wrong with the pink bowl? Or the blue? Why orange?

It's one of lifes mysteries I guess.

Parents are people too

In the early years of life we think our parents are invincible.

They have super-human strength, are all geniuses and we even think that their jokes are funny.

But as we inch towards adolescense, our opinions change.

We roll our eyes at their jokes. We don't find it amusing when they offer to remove a splinter with their pocket knife or say we're having frog legs for dinner.

We realize they're not geniuses. We see limits to their strength. We no longer think they're cool.

We definitely don't think that their clothes are cool. Or their hair-do. Or the oversized or aviator sunglasses they wear that are (at that time) out of style. They were way ahead of their time on those. Or way late.

I remember when I stopped thinking my dad was cool.

It was at the end of my slug-bug phase. My sister and I were manic slug-bug fanatics. We even dabbled in a little beep-jeep. We loved to play it so much that we encouraged my parents to do so also.

They followed suit and pretty soon we were a family of slug-bug players. Shouting it out in the car, slugging each other on the shoulder. We did it all.

But soon the honeymoon phase with slug-bug was over. We weren't as enthusiastic about it anymore. It had lost its appeal. It wasn't as shiny and new as a few months before. It was slightly lame.

One day while my sister and  I waited in the car at the bank for my dad, we came to a decision.

Slug-bug was lame. Beep-jeep was even lamer. Therefore, anyone who participated in said games was lame. The lamest of them all.

We were much too cool to be pointing out stupid cars and yelling about it. Better to maintain our composure. Keep it chill.

By the time my dad got back in the car we had moved on to an unrelated topic.

We pulled out onto the road and within minutes we saw a Volkswagen. My dad was the first to spot it. "Slug-bug," he said.

We rolled our eyes and snickered to ourselves. Didn't he know that game was so yesterday?

And that's when I decided that my dad wasn't cool anymore.

Sorry Dad. You knew it had to happen eventually.

I'm lucky for now though. My kids still think I'm cool. My jokes are still hilarious. I'm still awesome. It helps that I don't wear "mom jeans". But my years are numbered.

So tell your lame jokes while you still can. Before you know it your kids will be calling you old and rolling their eyes at your jokes.

It can happen to anyone. It will happen to you.

Even princesses take naps

After a long day of tea parties and waltzing, even the prettiest princesses need a nap once in a while.

Stuck-up

Some people think I'm stuck-up. Maybe I am, just a little. But not as bad as I could be.

I prefer to think of it as having high standards. I'm trying not to look down my nose at people as often, but people make it really hard. Its their fault. Not mine. I'm innocent till proven guilty, right?

Being stuck-up just comes naturally to me. And the funny part is I'm way more stuck-up now than I used to be. And people thought I was stuck-up in high school. They should see me now.

In high school I wasn't really even stuck-up. Just shy and mildly socially awkward. I was dorky, not stuck-up.

Now I'm stuck-up. I look at people in front of me in line at Walmart and my most of the time I wonder if they got dressed in the dark. Not that I'm a fashion guru, but my shorts aren't in my butt crack. And my feet don't hang off the end of my shoes. And I don't have a fanny pack.

I know I shouldn't judge people and make assumptions. Blah blah blah.

If people at Walmart weren't dressed like such weirdos, then I could restrain myself a little more. There's even a website dedicated to how tacky people who shop at Walmart dress. Its an epidemic.

Its not just me judging people, its everyone with a camera phone and an opinion. So there.

They like me, they really like me

I won another award. My blog award mantle will be full soon enough.

Can't say I don't deserve it. I am a great commenter.

Now for all the work that comes with winning an award.

1. Thank the person who nominated you for this award.

2. Copy the award; place it on your blog.

3. Link to the person who nominated you for this award.

4. Answer the 10 questions associated with the award.

5. Nominate a few of your favorite bloggers for the award.

6. Post links to the blogs you nominate

So number one. Thanks Heidi-D!

Number two. See above. Number three. Also directly above.

Number four. There are some questions.

1. Why do you blog? I got too lazy and cheap to scrapbook as much. Blogging is free! (Not counting the large internet bill every month, but I was paying that anyway).
2. What are your three best memories? I'm gonna have to put the days both of my ladies were born as tied for number one. Thank goodness for epidurals. Number two is also a tie. When I found out I was pregnant with both of my ladies. And then I told David about the first one via text message. Number three is a toss-up. hard to narrow down to one. I'll give a point to David and say my ghetto wedding in Vegas. It was ghetto, but memorable.
3. If you had to change your real name, what would you change it to?
Hercules Rockefeller.
4. What are the five things you can't live without? Alana, Ava, David, My family, Chocolate. In that order.
5. What are the four best books you've ever read?
I Know This Much is True by Wally Lamb
She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb
The Stand by Stephen King
19 Minutes by Jodi Picoult
6. Tell me something unique and interesting about yourself. I played with Barbies till an embarassingly old age. Like 11 or somewhere in that ballpark. And I owned a Lion King shirt in 7th grade. That I wore in public. Including to school.
7. What do you love about yourself? I'm funny and smart (and modest). If I had to choose between being smart and being pretty I would choose smart any day.
8. What is the best movie ever made? The Little Mermaid (OK maybe its not the best, but its on in the living room right now).
9. If you had a "freaky friday" experience, who would you trade places with and why? There's not a single person I can think of who I'd rather be. Maybe I'd trade with some rich person and have them give me a large sum of money while I'm in their body. That would be nice. Not all of their money, just enough so I would never have to work again.
10. What's the best part about being a woman? Duh. Having babies. What's ironic is that I never planned on having kids. But after I had one on accident I liked her so much I had one on purpose. And I'll probably have another one on purpose too.

Now onto the next part. I must nominate some other people to get this Super Comments Award.

Jan Jan for being my newest follower and commenter. Thanks for following!
V.  for agreeing with me on the awesomeness of Ron Burgundy. Check her out. She's having an awesome giveaway.
The Spork Project. This is an awesome blog about a long distance relationship, design, nosh and coffee!

And now to re-nominate Heidi-D. Thanks for the award!

A rose by any other name

My name is Jennifer. Not Jen. Definitely not Jenny. Don't even think about calling me Jenny.

As a kid if anyone tryed to call me Jenny I wasn't even the one who corrected them. My parents did.

They would tell them that if they wanted me to be called Jenny that's what they would've named me.

The same goes for my sister. Her name is Nicole. If my parents wanted her to be called Nikki that's what they would've named her.

Jury's still out on why we shorten both of my brother's names. Maybe we all just got lazy.

Never in my life have I allowed anyone to call my anything but my given name. I have been occasionally called my last name, but never a nickname. Never.

That's why its so weird to me that I rarely call either of my ladies by their actual name.

I went through a lot of trouble to pick out those names. Looked through dozens of books and online baby naming sites. Didn't want something too popular, but nothing too crazy and out there either. I'm not about to name my kid Apple. No offense to anyone who does.

But seriously. You did go to public school right? You do know kids are going to make fun of anyone named Apple from kindergarten on?

From birth I have rarely called Alana by her name. Same goes with Ava. Not that I'm particularly attached to any nickname I've given either of them. I call them whatever I feel like at that given moment. I name according to mood.

Sometimes its Paco, sometimes its Ava Jo. Nothing sticks for longer than a couple of weeks.

I manage to re-name both of my children every month, without giving it too much thought. But it took me and David weeks to decide on what we would print on their birth certificates. Lots of thought and planning. And convincing David not to name our daughters after any Dallas Cowboys players.

I wonder if I'll run out of nicknames before they grow up. Probably not. I'm pretty creative like that.

There's a first time for everything

Wednesday I was cleaning someone else's house. You could call it my "job".

This person has a deer head hanging on the wall. It frightens me. I feel like its looking at me.

I noticed that there were a few spider webs between its horns. I don't think they're called horns.

So I went and got the swiffer duster and dusted the stuffed dear hanging from her wall. Definitely something I've never done before.

While I was dusting it I couldn't help but wonder if he had a name. It seems to me that if I had a deer hanging in my living room watching me while I watched TV, I would want him to have a name.

Nothing fancy. Don't want him getting a big ego. Something simple maybe. Like Bob. Or Bill. Probably Buck.

Buck seems like the most appropriate name to me. So if I had a deer head hanging in my living room, I would name him Buck. And I would tell him my secrets. Cause who is he gonna tell?

Channeling my inner Ron Burgundy

I may or may not have seen Anchorman too many times.

I've come to this realization because I find myself quoting it numerous times every day.

Verbally. And in my blog.

You may have noticed that I put "Don't act like you're not impressed" in like every blog. Dang Ron Burgundy.

Also earning an honorable mention. "I'm kind of a big deal."

Next time I say, "I'm not even mad, that's amazing", I'm going to stop myself. Probably not. I can't help it.

That movie is too funny to resist quoting. Ugh. Milk was a poor choice of beverage.

There I go again. Before I say "I'm gonna punch you in the ovaries" or "San Diego actually means a whale's vagina", I'm gonna end this post.

Stay classy.

Giving myself a pat on the back

I made a button.

The actual button making was just making a smaller version of my header, which I got from Shabby Blogs. They are awesome.

I added some text to said header yesterday on photobucket. So today I just played around with it and made it into a button. Impressive. I know.

So take one if you wish. Its on the right side. And its beautiful.

Take one, pass it on

So I won an award. As previously mentioned.

Now I must pass it on to seven people. But I'm unsure who. Hmmm.

The nominees are:

Nicole. Cause she's my sister. And she was my first follower. And she was the one who peer pressured me into starting a blog in the first place.
Michelle at Sweet August. Cause she always leaves me such nice comments. And she has a pretty cute little man.
Tara at That's why her hair is so big. Her blog is hilarious. Love Trainwreck Thursdays.
Heidi - D at It's just me...Heidi-D. The pictures on her blog are amazing and she's not afraid to talk about anything outside of her "comfort zone".
Mariam Monroe at Mariam Monroe - The alter ego emerges. Read about her upcoming wedding and how she's "No betty crocker".
Kerri at Party of Five. Read about her cute little boy Camden and her struggles with infertility. She is documenting the joys and perils of being a first time mom.
Chocoholic at Diary of a Chocoholic. She's a new blogger who is planning a wedding and trying to gain a following. I just won follower of the day on her blog, so that makes her extra awesome. Follow her.
Here's the award (again).

Now for seven things about me.

1. I know the theme song to Wow Wow Wubbzy by heart. He lives in a tree. He likes to play, play, play. He's got a bendy tail and he likes it that way.

2. I hate going swimming on vacation. Once my hair is blow-dryed for the day I'm not getting into any body of water. Even if its the ocean. I don't need sand in my cracks anyway.

3. I can and will eat a whole pan of brownies by myself. I don't have any willpower.

4. I don't chew gum or drink soda. They are both gross.

5. I have a soft spot for obnoxious little boys. Blame my brothers and nephews.

6. When I was pregnant with Ava I had a weird condition that caused me to have low platelets. Because of this my doctor was hesitant to let me have an epidural. I was petrified that I wouldn't be able to have it. Thank goodness I was lucky. Epidurals are awesome.

7. I don't like chick flicks. But I will read a sappy book anytime anyplace. The more I cry, the more I like it. Its sick really.

For more about me, go here.

The latest and greatest

So I won an award. Pending my understanding of the award rules I will post a list of seven things about me and pass it on to seven friends.

Not entirely sure that I'm supposed to, but I don't want to look like a jackass.

Isn't it lovely?

I'd like to thank all of the little people that I stepped on to get to where I am today (ha ha, I am hardly as successful as I aspire to be). My kids for napping hours on end in the afternoon. Dora for entertaining Alana when no one will. David for only saying my blog is lame sometimes. And Meg for giving me the award.

In other news, I changed the name of my blog. Ruiz Family was just so....blah. It wasn't doing it for me anymore. It wasn't that original.

I wasn't in that creative of a mood when I started my blogger account so my url and name were both lame.

I should've waited for inspiration.

As for my new name, I'm not in love with it, but it will work. 

I was actually flipping through the program guide early this morning and Short Circuit was on. After that I got "More than a woman" stuck in my head, then one thing led to another and my blog had a new name. Thank you Johnny 5.

Better go now. I've got to go back to my part time referee gig. Ever broken up a fight between a couple of three year olds? Its not as glamorous as it sounds.

3 quarters

Today Ava is nine months old. Three quarters of the way to one. 75%.

Isn't she cute? I could just pinch her chubby little cheeks all day.

Here's a list of Ava's accomplishments so far in her nine months:

She has mastered sitting.

She's even got the sitting to crawling to sitting again transition down. She makes it look easy.

She loves to crawl using mostly toe power. She has the strongest toes in the west. And she has worn the toes out of most of her pajamas.

She loves to follow Alana around. Wherever Alana's at must be the cool place to hang.

She is a professional self-feeder with finger foods. She no longer wishes to participate in the juvenile activity of having her mommy feed her. That's for babies.

She is a supreme chubs. Her little gut hangs over her diaper and she practically needs a training bra. But she still wears 3-6 months size clothes. Go figure.

She loves to take baths. With or without someone in there with her. She plays and splashes and makes some crazy faces.

She has two teeth. They are razor sharp.

She just learned to pull herself up to stand. Don't act like you're not impressed. Check that off of her to-do list. Next step, walking.

She enjoys dumping out her entire basket of toys every possible chance she gets. As soon as you put her on the floor she crawls over to it and pulls it over.

She is already so independent. She wants to be down on the floor playing. Then she will crawl into the bedroom to play by herself. She acts like she doesn't even need her mommy. Except when she's tired and she sees me she lifts her arms up for me to pick her up.

She is huggable and kissable and squeezeable and I love her. How did she get to be nine months old already? The nine months I was pregnant with her took forever.

A little splash of adult humor

I find it amusing how they put jokes in kid's movies that the kids don't get.

If they do get them, then they are pretty advanced for their age.

I can only think of one example at the moment, because its the movie that's on in the living room right now.

Robots.

You probably haven't seen it. I wouldn't necessarily recommend it. It's just okay. I only own it cause my brother gave it to one of my kids for Christmas. But the kids like it. That is the point of the gift anyway right?

So here's my example:

Its the beginning of the movie and the dad robot leaves work early because the baby robot is going to "arrive."

He gets home and his wife says "Sorry, you missed the delivery, but making it is the fun part anyway."

Get it? They still have to build the robot, so "making it" is the funnest part.

That's my best example. You got something better?

Stand in the place where you live

This little showoff learned a new trick. Just shy of turning 9 months old, she is pulling herself up to standing. Don't act like you're not impressed. I don't know if you know this, but she's kind of a big deal.

Maternity test results

My children look like I stole them.

I am pale and blond. They are half mexican ladies with dark hair.

But there are moments when I know they are mine. They act just like me. Especially Alana.

Exhibit A.

David asked Alana to get him the remote (or something of that nature).

She asked him if his legs were broken.

Almost my proudest moment as a parent.

Exhibit B.

David said something to Alana that she did not find favorable.

She called him a jackass under her breath.

That's not exactly my proudest moment. But it is proof she's mine.

Alana is...

Capable of seeing in xray 3D. Even without the glasses.

A trendsetter.
What? You didn't get the memo that one clip-on earring is cool?































An expert color-er. She likes to think outside the box. Who says Tinkerbell's face can't be purple?












She is also an expert on coloring herself.








Last but not least, she's a zombie attack survivor. To the naked eye this just looks like she wrote on herself with marker. But upon closer inspection its a wound inflicted by a zombie. And she didn't even cry.

Hand-me-down guess who - Special Double Edition

In honor of my 200th post this edition of hand-me-down guess who will feature two outfits.

I will probably run out of hand-me-down outfits in this size range soon though.

I am finding that my taste in baby clothes is drastically different with Ava than with Alana. I like brighter, bolder colors. No pastels. Yuck. And I'm all about the one piece outfit. Not necessarily a onesie or dress, something in between. But if its one piece, that's great. Less effort, still cute.

So if I ever have a third daughter these clothes will be nowhere in sight. Third babies have all the luck.

David says we won't have a third girl though. Next time I'm making a boy. Yeah right.

So without further ado, here are my lovely ladies.