just in case you were worried.

Okay, okay...I promise...I do love her three-year-old little guts.  And here are just a few reasons why:

We were at a friends house and before the kids ate dinner the mom asked each kiddo what they were thankful for...

Grace: "I am thankful for Jesus."

Hadley: "I am thankful for my Mama and potty talk."

I walk into Hadley's room the other morning, as we're running late, and I see everything pulled out of her dresser drawers and unpacked from her bag.  I, exasperatedly say,

"Oh Hadley."

And she looks right at me, with a her pointed little finger, and says

"Mama, you are VERY welcome!"

Me:  "Hadley, want to go to the zoo today?"

Hadley:  "No.  It's scary."

Me:  "What?  What's so scary about the zoo?"

Hadley:  "The crocagators."

Hadley:  "Mama, how do babies get out of the Mama's tummy's?"

Me:  "How do you think they get out?"

Hads:  "I think a doctor cuts the Mama's tummy, and grabs the baby, and the Mama has blood on them."

Me:  "Well it's not always that morbid, there's a nicer way they can come out."

Hads:  "How is that way?"

Me:  "They come out of the Mama's vagina."

Hads, after about 15 seconds worth of gut busting giggling, "Mama YOU ARE SO SILLY...pee pee comes out of ginas, not babies.  I'm telling Daddy you talked potty talk."

three year olds suck.

So I've been hearing about the 'age three' since Hadley's first birthday.  Anytime you complain about your kids to well seasoned parents, they just look at you and smile.  Veteran parents love to burst new parents bubbles at any opportunity available.  The old game of 'you think it's bad now...just wait.'  Every Mama I've ever met has told me, 'The terrible two's are nothing.  Three year olds are awful.'  And for awhile I just didn't buy it ('no...not my perfect little angel', I foolishly thought). 

After Hadley's third birthday I remember talking to Ryan and saying 'I don't know what all the talk is about, three year olds are great.'  That was then, this is now. 

I hate three year olds.  It's why I've been absent from the blogging world.  I've got nothing nice to say.  Hadley is the devil, disguised in a size 5 Pull-up and super cute wedge haircut.  One morning we just woke up, and the charming, fun loving, gal we knew and loved had been replaced by a parent loathing, irrational, oblivious, bitter, schizophrenic, compulsive, completely deaf, deprecating, amnesic, snot faced, brat.  We'll call her Sybil.  In the past three weeks, Sybil, has easily been given 105 time-outs.  Screams, cries, and convulses every single time we say the word 'NO' (although we had no qualms when she was running with scissors the other day).  Screams, cries, and convulses every time she doesn't get to do something 'all by herself' (even if that includes pouring a two gallon carton of milk into her cereal...without help).  Screams, cries, and convulses every time something doesn't go just right (for example, if she has a problem getting her baby out of a highchair.  She saves it for the major stuff).  She has been spanked (judge me, I don't care, I'm just proud of myself for leaving all of her teeth intact), she has been shut in her room with the door locked (while I sat outside, took 52 deep cleansing breaths, and a shot of Jack), and she has been losing her most prized possessions at an alarming rate (we'll be having a garage sale soon).  And what has all this done for us...NOTHING.  She's still bipolar.  She's still constantly testing those ever present boundaries and our ever diminishing patience.  She's still screaming, crying, and convulsing at any opportunity that seems appropriate (which, in her deluded mind, is every 15 minutes or less).  And she's still three years old.

 In the meantime, Ryan and I are looking into Boarding Preschools (we're thinking somewhere nice in China), and/or selling her on craigslist (we'll throw in two of Ryan's bikes and our BOB stroller), and/or taking her to that church in Midwest where you can just leave them on the doorstep, no questions asked, and, more importantly, no take-backs.  The good news is...she turns four in 289 days.  The bad news is...I don't know if she'll make it that long.

  And for all you baby adoring parents...just you wait...three year olds suck.

a tad ticklish.

This girl has the absolute best giggle of anyone I've ever met.

zoo days.

Nothing better than letting the wild animals hang with their kind.  I will say though, as much as I thought I hated the zoo (I don't trust the free roaming peacocks and have no patience for watching animals sleep), it gets a lot more fun the older the kids get.  And luckily, Hadley has no interest in having me read her all the fascinating animal facts on the plethora of educational zoo signs, she'll either need to learn to read first, or hell will have to freeze over before I get that involved in our outing (I mean really, does anyone actually give a sh*t what a Tapir does in it's free time).  We're in, we eat, we're out...a drive-by zooing, just what it should be.

our favorite lady's.

            HAPPY MOM'S DAY (one week late)...

...to the best two Mama's we know. 

You gals are pretty darn special, and nothing short of amazing.  I think her smiles say it all. 

here we go again.

Cycling season is in full swing...it makes me want to vomit my heart swell.

Go Ry Go.

I must say you do look pretty cute in your spandex.

ooooh these sunny days.

They make me a little giddy...and that makes me squeeze on her a whole lot...to the point of cracking ribs.  I just can't get enough of this kid sometimes.

new music.

Here's the latest shizzle I am obsessed with right now:

I listened to this song for six miles straight (that's just shy of 14 times).

I might just like this version better than Ms. Lauper's.

I have a new found love for these two and their new album.

Still can't get over this one...which lead me to this one.

And I'm always up for anything by her.

she's a funny one.

We taught Hads the old "wanna hurtz-donut" trick.  And she loves it.  I mean she seriously can't stop laughing, once the trickee says 'yes', for a solid 3 minutes.  For those unaware, it goes a little something like this:  

Hadley:  "Want a hurtz donut?"

Friend:  "Yes."

Hadley then punches them and yells "Hurtz dont it."

 I was going to start with the old 'if your hands bigger than your face you're retarded' prank...but didn't think that was quite PC for a 3 year old.  Maybe when she's five.

lots o' kids at the cabin.

We took all the kids (minus one baby Allie, because as Hadley always says "she's just a baby Mama") up to the cabin the other weekend.  We were only responsible for three of them (Mads came with Zaides and Baba)...but figured the cabin would be a safer place, since the adult to kid ratio would be even-steven.  They were all absolute dreams!  Everyone got along perfectly, except Ry and my Dad, but that's only because Ryan killed my Dad in cards.  The girls actually played all things make believe together, with Lauren calling the shots, and Benny just walked around and around and never made a peep (except when I hit him in the head with the pack-n-play...wanted to make sure I kept him tough while he was around all those doll playing girls).  Ben and Lauren got the best sleeper awards, neither of them woke up until 8:30am, while the other two hooligans were bright eyed and bushy tailed at 5:40am.  GACK!  All in all...we'd do it again in a heartbeat.  But Hads and Mads will get Benedryl next time.

nerd alert.

We are not going to have to worry about this gal being one of the popular kids in school.

a taste of Cabo.

Okay, okay...we're back...finally. I know a lot of you don't believe that we even went. But we did, and we did it up big. Here's just a smidgen of what our days entailed: We played at the pool, all day, every day. Made sand castles. Put barefeet in the sand (GASP!), without a fuss. Took Tequila shots...upside down. Dodged beach combers selling us every piece of shit imaginable. Saw the sunrise more often than the sunset. Found McDonald's and Starbucks (we're fat Americans after all). Did not barter for anything. Swam in the ocean. Drank beer for 12 hours straight. Drank a Miami Vice, and felt 21. Didn't even think about going to a nightclub. Hadley met the man of her dreams (Luke), he happens to be from Woodinville too, 5 minutes from Ryan's folks (can you say 'small world'). Ate A LOT of tortillas. Ate A LOT of chips and salsa. Messed with whomever passed out first...it was always Sarah. Watched cartoons in Spanish. James and Sar became legends of the 'strip' inventing a drink called the 'tip jar' Hads swam her little heart out (kind of)...she more 'waded' her little heart out. Saw a lady get arrested for attempting to smoke on the flight. Laughed our heads off. Enjoyed Hadley's 3 hour naps. Wore SPF 50. Hated Customs. Read 3 books. Fell in love with James (Sar, he's a keeper). Somehow, managed to relax and enjoy ourselves and each other. And this was all just on Saturday people. Cabo, you won us over. We'll see you next year...but maybe minus one 3 year old. Even though, I gotta admit, she was pretty, darn AMAZING!

sooner or later.

I promise to update this god-forsaken blog sooner rather than later...but first we're off to see my boyfriend.