So in very particular order, here are my top 5 scariest childhood movies:

5. Ernest Scared Stupid

Okay. I know this may make me seem like an incredibly huge wimp because Ernest movies are just about as un-scary as you can get, but THE TROLL. Holy mother, the TROLL. He turned kids into little dolls. Appeared in their bedrooms and turned. them. into. dolls. CAN’T HANDLE IT. As much as I hated this movie, I feel like I watched it at least 30 times as a kid for some reason. Why did I torture myself so?!

The first 30 seconds of this should explain.

And also, this photo…

“Wacky”? NO.

4. The NeverEnding Story

Some people LOVE The NeverEnding Story, like my best friend in 3rd grade and her little sister.  (Hi Jocelyn and Ellen!) There are so many disturbing things that happen, I just can’t even imagine why this was meant for kids to watch!

The horse getting sucked into the quicksand made me cry every time. Any time horses die, it’s over and the movie is dead to me. What about the huge statues in the desert with the big naked boobies? You know, the ones that SHOOT FREAKING LAZERS and fry people up like bacon? My friend would pop that movie in the VCR every time I’d come over for a slumber party and I always had to psyche myself up it for it. I’d be all, “Hold it together, Mo. Just another hour until it’s over and then we can — NOOOOO! DON’T LOOK INTO IT’S EYES!”…

“ATREYU, GET OUT OF THE WAY BEFORE IT EATS YOUR FACE!”

Terrifying.

Then there’s the fact that I’m 25 years old and I still don’t understand what any of it meant.

3. Gremlins

Let me just say that whoever came up with the idea of Furbys was one sick mofo.

“Hey! Remember that movie from the 80′s with those creatures that turn evil and try to kill you if they eat after midnight?  Well I just had an amazing idea for a children’s toy… and the best part? THEY TALK!”

Scarred. For. Life.

2. Hansel and Gretel

A lot of people haven’t seen this version of Hansel and Gretel. Basically, Cloris Leachman plays the witch who lures children to her gingerbread house, traps them in large cages, forces them to eat sweets to fatten up, then dips them in a large vat of batter and fries them in oil to become life-sized gingerbread cookies that she then eats. Not creepy at all.

The 6:00-7:00ish mark should put some hair on your chest:

I know you’re there… I CAN SMELL YOU!

1. Return to Oz

Easily, without any hesitation, the most frightening, disturbing, nightmare-inducing movie of my childhood AND adulthood.

Take a ride back to Oz with Dorothy Gail and her talking chicken. There you will see the ruins that was once the beautiful Emerald City, where headless dancing women have been turned to stone.

Look out for the wheelers! Those guys’ll getcha!

And if you happen to find yourself in a room full of disembodied heads, try not to make too much noise.

Holy frick. I just peed a little.

Having to search for these photos made me relive the horrors and I actually found myself covering up the computer screen with my hand. Not even kidding.

So there they are, people. The five creepiest movies of my young life. What are yours?

Now Maddie’s still two, but she’s massive. Everyone thinks she’s at least 4, so a lot of times other kids will expect her to understand them and go along with what they’re doing. She usually just stands there with a smile and says something like, “I have Tinkerbell panties!” and then chases herself in a circle. The older kids will pick up on the fact that she’s not quite on their level and leave her to play by themselves. I feel bad for her, but she’ll understand sooner or later that you can’t just start talking about your panties the first time you meet someone. A girl can ruin her reputation that way, amirite ladies?

Sometimes kids leave Maddie out and sometimes they get along like long lost friends, bonding over sand or a rock. Interesting stuff. This particular day, she made friends with a group of four year old girls. They were all so sweet, it was killing me. One of the girls came up to me, told me her name and that her favorite Jamba Juice flavor is Mango-A-Go-Go. She kept coming over to check on Jack while I was holding him, making sure he wasn’t too cold. The other girls showed me their bracelets and told me what they were going to dress up as for Halloween. Such delightful kids. Their moms weren’t quite as charming though.

From across the ‘field’, the three moms were sitting on a bench. I’m not trying to gossip or be ugly here, but the best way to describe them would be pageant mom types. That’s a legit descriptor, right? Bedazzled, poufed, sprayed, lip-lined, all in a nice little tan package. While their daughters were playing with Maddie and talking to me, they were engrossed in their conversation and ignored the kids, except to scream, “I TOLD YOU TO STOP RUNNING!” every few minutes. Mango-A-Go-Go’s mom scolded her for talking to me (a stranger, which is good), but she gave me a dirty look like I was doing something wrong. I wasn’t being overly chatty with the girl because I didn’t want to give the mom any reason to worry or be weirded out (I’m very aware of those kinds of things) but good Lord, I was just answering her questions. I wasn’t prompting anything, the girl was just friendly. I really didn’t like feeling as if I was a scary stranger, especially when the moms weren’t paying them attention except to yell. I felt bad for the girls, that’s all!

When they were ready to leave, the moms stood up and turned their backs to me and walked off. I told Maddie to say goodbye to the girls and they waved as they left. They were kind in spite of their weirdo socially retarded moms.

This is just one example, but I find myself in these types of situations a lot. I smile at strangers and am ignored. I say “excuse me” when it’s someone else’s fault and get ignored. I try to strike up a conversation with the mother of Maddie’s new playmate at the park and don’t get any response. I know, poor me, boohoo, but REALLY? Why are moms so freaking rude?? Aren’t you supposed to be teaching your kids how to behave in society? I get that people have bad days and maybe I’m just too quiet for anyone to hear me when I say hello, but regardless of the reason you’re acting like a snot, your kids are watching you CONSTANTLY and pick up on every little thing. That’s a scary thought.

I’ll continue to strike up conversations with other moms at the park because sometimes you find a gem. There are just as many nice, polite moms as there are rude ones and I have so much appreciation for them. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s sick of the high school dynamic. We’re adults, let’s be nice to one another. If our three year olds can figure it out, shouldn’t we be able to as well?

End rant.

The morning started out swimmingly (never actually used that word before and not sure I’m a fan, looks weird, moving on though), with two happy kids in the backseat and a latte in mom’s hand. Err, CUP HOLDER. Cops, don’t shoot. Is it just me that feels like I’m breaking the law any time I’m holding something in my hand while driving? Ever since the no texting law… nevermind. Anyway, birds were singing, caffeine was coursing through the veins, I was about to buy myself a new sump’n sump’n at Target. It was a good morning.

“Say, Jack! Why don’t we put you in the big boy seat in the shopping cart today? You’re able to sit on your own about 2% of the time… THIS SOUNDS LIKE A VERY SMART IDEA!” (was not.)

“Here, I’ll help you balance your gigantic 22 pound body with my left hand, hold my steaming hot coffee in my right hand, keep your sister from standing up in the back of the cart with my silent scary mom glare and push the cart with… umm, my hip! This’ll work!” (did not.)

“Okay. There are 3 clearance racks to look through. Shouldn’t take more than 10 minutes. I’ll hold you, but calm down the drama and stop punching me in the neck. And Maddie: silent scary mom glare.”

You get the idea. I spent a total of 20 minutes in Target, but by the time I pushed through the exit doors I was sweating like I just ran 10 miles. I switched Maddie to the front of the cart, held Jack, switched Maddie to the back again, rocked Jack and fed him a bottle in the makeup aisle while picking out a new mascara. At one point, I had both kids in my arms and was pushing the cart, yes, with my hip. That’s almost 60 pounds of kid… suddenly, all that sweating makes perfect sense.

There was one more stop to make before going back home to rock back and forth in the fetal position. I had to go to Fresh & Easy for a few little things and knew it wouldn’t take long or be nearly as rough as Target had been. Sure enough, the little shopping trip went without a hitch. I ate some chips and salsa samples and saved money with my coupon. Smiles all around. Out to the car we go…

Keys. Keyskeyskeys. Not in the pocket. Not in the cart. Not in the purse. Not on the pavement where I dumped entire contents of the purse. Back into the store we go. Long story short, I had every employee in the place combing each aisle for my car keys. One sweet lady helped me retrace my steps while I held back tears. No one ever found the keys.

The same lady helped me back outside to look around my car again. I circled the car, looked underneath, and just out of habit I tried opening the door. IT WAS UNLOCKED. There, in the freaking ignition, were my keys. I just started bawling and the woman hugged me. I felt SO stupid for making all those people stop and help me when the keys were right there the entire time. I apologized and said, “I was so focused on my horrible morning… I can’t believe I did that to everyone.” She just said, “Don’t worry about it, hun. You’re a mama and need to go easy on yourself.”

As she walked back into the store, I wiped the tears from my face and loaded up the kids and groceries. While I agree that I should be more easy on myself, more than anything I need to be working on not feeling so sorry for myself all the time. Stuff goes wrong. Kids go crazy in public. People get annoyed with you. It’s all bound to happen! But at the end of those crazy days, I need to remember that I’m doing all this because I want to. I’m so lucky to be home with my kids, and even if I end up sweaty and crying and snotty in public every single day, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Okay, no snot. Everything else though.

• Apply some form of makeup
• Open all the blinds – SUNSHINE IS SO IMPORTANT. It’s like the Batcave in here if I don’t.
• Feed Maddie breakfast
• Get Maddie dressed in actual clothes so she’s not laying around in PJ’s all day

So just to be clear, the answer to every stay at home mom’s problems lie within a single tube of lip gloss. Oh, and don’t forget to feed your kid. Someone give me a Nobel Prize because I obviously know All Of The Things.

Anyway. Here we are, half a year later (holy time warp, Batman) and I’ve been pretty busy mastering my mom skills. That last sentence made me sound like a fancy swordsman or something, but no seriously. I’m better at it now. Did you notice how I didn’t even mention Jack in that list? What was he up to that whole time? Probably laying in his crib with his unamused face wondering why it took his mom an entire day to feed his sister and open the blinds. Get it together, Ma.

Being home involves doing things. A ton of things. While I still agree that your old routines are important in helping you feel like an adult (makeup, hair, not forgetting to feed yourself), the bottom line is that the kids come first.

Most mornings, I’m not awake for very long before the kids are up. Gah, I can’t lie to you… the truth is that the kids actually wake me up every morning. It’s kind of shameful, but that’s just the way it goes around here. Maddie hid my alarm clock a while ago and I haven’t found it yet, so I just keep sleeping until I hear one of them. Soooo, that gives me umm, negative eleventeen minutes to do anything for myself before the Screeches of the Hungry Breakfast Seekers begin. That includes brushing the teeth, combing the hair, emptying the bladder, and putting on the bra. Yes, I’m saggy and gross in the morning for a while. Judge me harshly!

(I know you’re thinking, “just go buy a new alarm clock, you lazy woman” but then I wouldn’t have anything to write about, would I? See my dilemma?)

Once everyone’s changed, fed and settled, it’s email time. Oh but wait, “the kids come first”, right? That is precisely how I am now able to read 419 emails in under 10 minutes. BAM! Mom skills.

Do I wash, blow dry, style, tease, spray, primp my hair for an hour like I used to? No, but I do a little bit to fix myself up when I’m able. The Blogger Bun shows up on the top of my head several times a week. It’s supposedly the most popular, chic hairstyle that’s been floating around the internet for a while, but it’s really just the same old messy bun I’ve been doing since I was 13. Now I can throw my hair up in 2 seconds and feel fashionable. Thank you, internet. Now just bring back plaid pajama pants and those clunky Jesus sandals and I’ll be right back in 1999 where I left my heart.

All that to say, there’s no one way to do this and things are never going to be perfect. Just take care of those sweet babes the best way you can and you get mad mom props from me. Bonus points if you make it to noon without putting on a bra.

Thanks to my favorite time wasting site, Pinterest (seriously, don’t even join if you don’t plan on getting sucked in for hours), I’ve found some really great tutorials I want to share with you guys. I’m sure we’ve all seen them used to store homemade jams and jellies or to drink beverages from, so here are a few other ideas. Enjoy!

1. An adorable way to upcycle a plain glass mason jar. I love the way she used the twine!
2. Make giving a gift card more personal with a snow globe.
3. Such a cute time capsule idea!
4. If I could keep a plant alive for more than a week, I would totally do this.
5. A soap dispenser!
6. Use jars to serve individual portions of ice cream at a party. Dying over this.

I know you creative little things have some ideas of your own. Care to share them with the class?

Like, this post. I intend on putting up before and after weight loss pictures, but does anyone really want to read about that? Or will I come across as braggy and self-absorbed? Shouldn’t I be occupied with raising my kids rather than worrying about my looks? I’m going through with showing you the photos, but I’m just saying… it’s hard for me not to feel weird about it. You’d think that by how I speak so openly about pretty much everything that goes on in my life that I’d be all comfortable with putting up a few pictures, but yeah. I’m kind of shy right now. And awkward. Aaaand I’m shutting up now.

So yes, my weight. I gained a whopping 50 pounds and a full-on butt shelf during my pregnancy with Jack. That was no big surprise, seeing as how I ate nothing but crap the entire time. I went from a size 4 to a size 14. YEAH.

THAT’S A LOTTA BUTT.

Now, I completely expected for that weight to melt off like it did after I had Madeline. With her, I was nursing, running myself ragged, depressed, and back at the office in 5 1/2 weeks. The atmosphere wasn’t quite as relaxed back then. I’ll save my breastfeeding experience for another post, but let’s just say that nursing Jack didn’t go as smoothly as I had hoped. I was, however, in very high spirits (for which I am extremely thankful), but also pretty high in calories. After giving birth and losing a whole 9 pounds (she says sarcastically), I stayed at that same exact weight for almost two months. NOT OKAY.

Enter Zumba. And the radical change in my eating habits. And the effort I started making to actually get my butt shelf off the couch and go DO something. (Granted, I was spending money and arguing with my toddler over gas medicine in the aisles of Target, but still. I was off the couch!)

For the first time in my life, I made exercise a priority. Let me be very straight with you all here: I DO NOT LIKE TO SWEAT. If sweat had a face, I would punch it. During the time period where that 7 week photo was taken, I was the annoying skinny girl who came to the gym 2 times a week, took an hour long class, and skipped outta there with makeup still perfectly in place. For some reason, having a second kid has sent me into my own little sweaty hell over here. I don’t get it. I walk out of the gym looking like a mentally unstable swamp creature.

Anyway, after 3 months of watching what I eat and working out 4-5 times a week, I am so happy to say I’ve lost 40 pounds. My body is so different than it’s ever been and far from perfect (thanks, babies), but I’m not that upset about it. I’m just proud of myself for doing this the right way for once.

March 2011, chowing down with full force.

July 2011, taken at the same restaurant.

I’m also currently doing The 30 Day Shred, so when I’m finished I will show the full body changes. For now, you get my face.

Enter Disney Cuddly Bodysuits. Recently, I was able to try out these onesies on Jack and I absolutely LOVED them!

Look at the vintage-looking Winnie the Pooh pattern. Did you just die? Because I died. And then Jack stuck his own foot in his mouth and I died again…

The most awesome thing about these onesies is that they have an extra row of snaps that allow your baby to wear them even longer.

Hulk Baby issue solved. Money saved. Win.

(Is it wrong I kind of want something like this for myself for fat days?)

(Yes, yes it is very wrong. You don’t even have to answer.)

You’ll love them, your cheapskate husband will love them, and your baby’s fat little thighs will just jiggle joyfully with all that extra room.

“Mama made breakfast! Come and get iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!”

“What do you mean you don’t want it? It took me an hour to cook!”

“Oh come on! Just take one bite. Just ONE, then you can get up.”

“That’s just pathetic. You’re not even trying.”

“Fine. I’ll give you a cookieeeeee…”

“Okay, I have an idea. Let’s read a story! Once upon a time there lived… MADDIE! What is that!?!?”"

“A booger? SERIOUSLY? That’s disgusting.”

“I have to get out of here.”

———– 6 hours later ———–

“Good news, everybody! Daddy’s home from work!”

“Hey honey, welcome home! I’m going to the gym for an hour. Goodluckhavefundontcallme!”

Yesterday was one of those days where I actually had something specific to buy, that something being cereal. Justin eats gross kid cereal because it makes him feel young, I’m assuming. He refuses to eat any other breakfast food I buy. Bagels get the stink-eye and remain untouched in the bag on top of the fridge until they grow fur. I don’t even breathe the word oatmeal around him anymore because I just can’t handle watching the dry heaves.

Anyway, I needed to get my wittle husband his milk and ceweal, so I slapped some makeup on my face, packed up the kids and got everyone in the car with the Toy Story soundtrack blaring in 1.5 hours flat. There were zero meltdowns and zero poo-splosions, so naturally I was feeling positive about the day at that point.

Continuing my ride on the crest of happiness, I stopped at Starbucks and bought a latte with my new gold card.

BAM. I’ve been wanting to fit that into a  post somehow for over a week. Isn’t it awesome/pathetic that I go there so often I earned a card with my name on it?

Once at Target, I fell into the usual trap spending $50 on random stuff I didn’t realize I needed until I saw it. Hairspray. Paper towels. A pair of the cute, cheap underwear that make my butt look good. If you’ve been to Target even once in your life then you understand what I”m saying. It adds up quick.

With a cart full of stuff, there was no longer room for Maddie, so I took her out and let her walk next to me. She kept wandering off, tried to hug a bunch of people and honed her klepto skills by sneaking items in the cart when I wasn’t looking. By the time we made it to the checkout line, I fished out a toothbrush, a can of soup and two tubs of frosting (which I honestly considered ‘buying on accident’, but oh yeah, I’m vegan now dang it). The most memorable event was when we took a short cut through the medicine aisle and she made a ridiculous scene while clutching a box of Gas-X. I promise I am not making this up… the kid would not let it go. I started panicking and hoping no one was watching my daughter and I physically fighting over gas medicine while simultaneously trying my hardest to make it obvious they weren’t for me. Because you know, when you have to buy something really personal in a huge store, you think everyone is judging you.

“Mommy doesn’t need those, silly girl!”

Fake smile to other shoppers.

“Put the box back on the shelf and we’ll go look at the toys!”

Beads of sweat. More tug of war.

“Maddie…”

Desperation.

“…handovertheboxandI’llgiveyouacookiewhenwegethome.”

Success.

After all that, I made it home, started unpacking the shopping bags only to realize I forgot the stupid cereal.

When I was a kid, I slept all the time. Everywhere. In 12 hour blocks.

I looked through my mom’s photo albums today and found these three in under 2 minutes. There are at least 900 photos of me sleeping in various stages throughout my young life.

What an angel, right? I was my own dream kid, I’m telling you. If I had a child who loved sleeping and napping as much as I did, do you know how much I could accomplish? If Maddie’s nap time still existed on the regular, I could watch one of my DVR’d Kardashian shows. Or bake some cupcakes. Or perhaps I’d be able to sit down and write a post every day like I used to. What stupid stuff did I complain about back then? Getting burned at the tanning bed? I would give my left boob to be able to lay in a tanning bed for 12 minutes every day for the next month, and maybe even some of my right one as well. I wouldn’t even turn the bed on, I’d just rest there in peaceful silence. Ah, the days of napping yore.

These days, a typical morning for us goes something like this:

Jack wakes up at 5am with grunty little baby boy screams. I whisper frantically to him, “PLEAAAAAASE DON’T WAKE UP YOUR SISTER! Please please please!” I tiptoe past her bedroom door and peek in, then breathe a sigh of relief  when I see I was able to get Jack back to sleep without awakening the beast from her slumber. I soon realize that my quiet sigh of relief was a fatal mistake. The beast’s supersonic hearing picked it up. Her eyes pop open as she’s laying there and I freeze in place. Maybe she’s like a T-Rex and won’t see me if I stand completely still?

“HI MOM! I WANT SOME CEREAL!”

(Note to self: she’s not a T-Rex.)

“Maddie, it’s still night time. Go back to sleeeeeeeep…” I speak in the faintest, calming tones, hoping to trick her into thinking I’m nice and that she likes me. Nice Mommy deserves to get back in bed for another hour.

“I waaaaaaaaaaaaant some CEEEEER. EEEE. ULLLLL!!!” The walls shake in response to her hulk rage.

(Nice Mommy deserves NOTHING, apparently.)

“Shh, honey. It’s not time for cereal. It’s time to go back to bed…”

And then from the other room, Jack’s grunts start. I keep Maddie quiet for a moment as I listen. Maybe he’ll fall back asleep. He calms down and everything goes quiet again.

“CEREAL!!!!!!!!!!”

Jack cries. So much for that. Might as well make some coffee.

This same scenario occurs at nap time every day as well, so I usually just give up and let Maddie lay on the couch and watch a movie for “quiet time” instead. Bed time? Well, I won’t even go into that. It’s 2 hours of pleading, bawling and there is much weeping and gnashing of teeth. And Maddie cries a little bit too.

Her other favorite thing to do is crawl into bed with us at some point during the night and just stare at us until we wake up. That is the most terrifying thing ever, waking up to your child’s face an inch away from yours while they smile maniacally.

Anyway, I know I’m Ranty Ranterson over here, I just miss my blessed sleep. Any idea how to make naps appealing to a two year old? I’ve tried everything. I even told her that Belle sleeps all the time and that’s why she has the energy to run through fields and sing and also why her skin is so radiant. I want radiant skin too, dang it. I just don’t think she bought that one.

P.S. Two of my friends, Nanette & Lisa, both have daughters Maddie’s age who seem to be having the same problem. Maybe it’s just a toddler thing?