Potty Training Help!

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

The Truth about The Elf

Here's the truth about the Elf on the Shelf.  After a few weeks of nightly Elf moving, I have to say, I LOVE this tradition.  My kids love the elf.  I love watching them find her every morning.  Every day, they give me a full report of exactly how they think she got to the spots she's in.  Every day they get to experience a little more magic. We will keep the elf.
However, our elf has not done the following:  made messes, drawn on pictures, or done anything else that my decidedly free spirited and very naughty youngest would see and think "Great idea!"  She has been involved in a 3-way with a dirty Koala and St. Nick, (It was a brief tryst and the children didn't see the debauchery), she has been caught scaling the christmas lights by the pass-through, she's visited many parts of the house but she still creeps me out!  I'm not sure if I'll ever get over this, but one thing is for sure:  the Elf is staying and will be back again next Christmas-maybe with a friend.  What has happened to me? 

Friday, November 30, 2012

I gave in...

I gave in to the Elf On A Shelf phenomenon.  I know, I'm not sure what I was thinking, either!  Perhaps it was because the little bastard was on sale, for over 1/2 off with free shipping. (Oh, that got you, too?  It was at Barnesandnoble.com), or maybe it was because it seems like everyone else has those stupid little elves and my kids are feeing left out because I'm too lazy, or maybe it's just because that thing is just so damn creepy and cute at the same time and that makes me feel weird inside. 
Seriously, look at that thing.  How can something so evil looking make me want to tickle it's little tummy and kiss it's forehead?  What is wrong with me?
So, if you look around the mommy blogs and especially Pinterest you'll see thousands of pictures of these evil looking little troublemakers perched around kitchens and living rooms.  Our elf will not make messes. Our elf will probably be interesting for a few weeks then will be forgotten about until next year when I try, in vain, to create some goddamn holiday memories with my children by trying to convince them that an inanimate object that spies on them all day, comes to life at night, parties in our living room, journeys to the North Pole and back to tell an elderly creeper if they are nice or naughty so that he will break into our house and bring them presents in a couple of weeks...  Good Lord, what have I done? 
(If you don't hear from me before Christmas, it means the children and the Elf have joined forces.   Send help!)

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Calm Your Crazy Asses Down, Conservatives!

So, the election is over and Barack Obama won. That is the truth. Please relax.  I've been there!  Did you know that I cried on election night the first time the George W. Bush won?  I did!  I proclaimed the end of the world that night.  I was wrong.  I think is a shittier world because he was president, but it did not end.

So, as I have been through the 5 stages of election grief myself, I wanted to offer you some compassion but I can't because you are driving me FUCKING CRAZY.  You are out of control with your ranting and raving.  You are posting shit all over Facebook that is making you look like a lunatic (actually, keep that up, it makes me laugh)
Here's the thing.  We (I am lumping in all of the people who didn't vote for Bush either time) didn't like your guy.  We thought he was a bad guy.  We may have said some mean things about him and some of us got a little crazy, but it seems like you (this is all of you) are taking things a little too far.  Here are the facts:
He is not a socialist.  He is a moderate.  A MODERATE!  What is your problem with moderation?  The definition of the word moderate is: 

mod·er·ate

[mod-er-it, mod-rit; mod-uh-reyt] Show IPA adjective, noun, verb, mod·er·at·ed, mod·er·at·ing.
adjective
1.
kept or keeping within reasonable or proper limits; not extreme, excessive, or intense: a moderate price.
2.
of medium quantity, extent, or amount: a moderate income.
3.
mediocre or fair: moderate talent.
4.
calm or mild, as of the weather.
5.
of or pertaining to moderates, as in politics or religion.

These are reasons why you should tone your crazy ass down:
He has expanded on the Patriot Act, he didn't close Gitmo.  He has been a friend to the banks, has basically brought RomneyCare (He was your nominee, remember?) to the national stage (Compare the two here.  Those are things that make me sad, mad and generally not happy.  However, he has out Bush'd Bush!  That should make you very, very happy!

Here are the reasons why we like him:
He has finally spoken out and is willing to fight for some of the things that effect all of us (a woman's right to choose, the right to health insurance for all, equal pay, equal rights, and more!  Those all seem like very reasonable things to me, but, then again, I am a crazy crazy liberal.

So I'll end with a prediction of what the next four years are going to be like.  Just like the last 12, but hopefully with a little more social justice.  You will deal with it.  We dealt with Bush.  Just relax.


Five Stages of Election Grief

Yeah, I'm behind by a few weeks, but I think it's time that everyone sits down, has a glass of wine and becomes friends again.  It's time to let the healing begin.  Let me guide you through the Five Stages of Election Grief.
Sorry, can't help it.  I'm kind of a jerk.

Stage 1:  Disbelief.  You know that the liberal/conservative/media in general called the election too early.  The results aren't valid!  Tomorrow you'll wake up to news stories saying that everything was wrong last night and everything will be fine.

Stage 2:  Horrible, horrible, heartwrenching sadness.  Everything you ever wanted is gone now.  Life is over.  Your future is a horrible, dark, nightmarish hellscape of socialism and gayness everywhere.  Just everywhere. 

Stage 3:  Acceptance/pity for the poor bastards, those poor stupid bastards who voted for the wrong guy even though it was against their best interests.  Don't worry, we thought the same thing about you in 2000 and 2004.  We even thought it about you this time.  I know, we'll agree to disagree.

Stage 4:  Furious VENGEANCE and ANGER!  You just want to FIGHT all of the stupid bastards that you just took 30 seconds to feel sorry for.  You hate them.  You hate their guts.  You want to post all over Facebook about how stupid they are with smug things to make them feel bad.  Spoiler alert-these things make you look crazy but they sure are entertaining to everyone else. 

Stage 5:  I don't know...I never made it past Stage 3 but from the news I guess its secession?  I don't know.  I think Stage Five should just be Get the Fuck Over It.  

We good? Let's move on.


Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Cry It Out Vs. Crying in General-Yeah, I'm going there.

In case you don't know what CIO means (apparently you haven't been a new mom in the past 100 years or so) it means Cry It Out-meaning the Cry It Out Method.  There are some facts that I want to address about babies crying, because there is a wealth of false information about letting babies cry.

According to Baby Center, there are at least 12 reasons why babies cry:
At the end of the article, there is one more category, and that says that babies cry sometimes for no reason!  They do!  So do you!  Sometimes babies cry to get excess energy out of their system.  Sometimes they cry to tell you what they need (because, at the beginning, they don't have any other way to tell you-they can't talk yet, after all).

So, let's talk about babies crying, okay?  This is one thing that makes me crazy, and I'm going to rant alllll over you right now.
Do you smell it?  Soak it in, baby!


Let's talk about this bullshit statement "It's not my parenting choice to let my baby Cry It Out."  Do you want to know why this is bullshit?  Because it is, pure and simple.  People who say that have a warped idea of what/why babies cry and what exactly Cry It Out means.  Babies cry.  They fuss, they cry, eventually they start to smile, laugh and talk, but at first they just cry, poop and sleep.  You can choose to never let your baby cry, but you are setting yourself up for a lifetime of misery if you do.  I have heard this statement from multiple first-time parents, and they all make me crazy when I hear it. 

First of all, babies cry sometimes to communicate with you.  Do you know what your baby is saying when it is crying because he/she is hungry?  The baby is saying "Hey, it's been 2.5 seconds since I stopped eating/you sat down/you started to shower/poop/etc. and I'm HUNGRY!"  That is communication.  P.S.  You want them to learn to communicate with you if you ever want them to talk.  I understand if you don't want them to learn to talk, I have a 6 year old and a 3 year old, but it's probably not the best plan for them to get ahead in life.
Does this picture stress you out as much as it does me?  If so, you're a parent!


Babies also cry to burn off energy.  The youngest ones, especially, all have working brains, and ideas about what they want to do.  They are trapped in a body that won't move the way they want it to/they can't figure out how to make it do what they want it too.  They can't talk to you.  They can't get what they want by themselves.  They have energy to burn.  They are frustrated.  They cry.  Or, maybe they are trying to get to sleep or who knows!  If you have fed them, changed their diaper, held them, rocked them, and they are in a safe place, it's okay to let them cry for a while while you take some time to get yourself together.
Not a safe place to leave your baby while you get yourself together.


Trust me, you will need to get yourself together sometimes.  Sometimes that overwhelming feeling of being responsible for a new life, the sound of your baby crying when you don't know what to do to fix it, the knowledge that you have tried everything and the idea that you can't control this  situation is just too much.  You need to take a time out and if the baby has to cry for 5 or 10 minutes, so be it.  Forgive yourself.  You are going to be a much better mother if you let yourself relax, enjoy your baby, and don't constantly hold yourself up to unrealistic expectations.

Finally, there seems to be this idea out there that Cry It Out means letting your baby cry until they pass out or die or forever or something.  That is simply not true.
This is what it actually means:

What exactly is the Ferber method?

In a nutshell, Ferber says you can teach your baby to soothe himself to sleep when he's physically and emotionally ready, usually sometime between 3 and 5 months of age.

He recommends following a warm, loving bedtime routine and then putting your baby in bed awake and leaving him (even if he cries) for gradually longer periods of time. Putting a child to bed awake, says Ferber, is crucial to successfully teaching him to go to sleep on his own.

Parents are instructed to pat and comfort their baby after each predetermined period of time, but not to pick up or feed their baby. This routine is called "progressive waiting."

The suggested waiting time, which Ferber charts in his book, is based on how comfortable you are with the technique, how many days you've been using it, and how many times you've already checked on your child that night.

After a few days to a week of gradually increasing the waiting time, the theory goes, most babies learn to fall asleep on their own, having discovered that crying earns nothing more than a brief check from you.
You can read more here.

That is probably not so much different than you are already doing, and it doesn't seem nearly as controversial as it is made out to be.  We all, as parents, have to work on building our children into independent adults, and that includes being able to fall asleep.  Do you want to know how long I made it the first time I tried to let my daughter cry?  About 30 seconds.  She was fine.  Do you know how long it took her to "learn" to fall asleep on her own when laid down awake?  About a week or so.  We were consistent with routine, kept her physically and intellectually active, and had set bed times.  It was hard work, but to this day, both of my children are excellent sleepers, are able to self-soothe, and happy and well-adjusted children.  They have formed secure attachments to us, they have friends, and are functional kids.  They are independent and have a strong sense of self.

someecards.com - Thanks for always thinking about me to the detriment of your own mental health

We will all argue and fight for our children, views, etc. but at the end of the day we will all do what is best for our children.  We will all be the best parents we can be.  We will love our kids, make some mistakes, and hope that they forgive us some day.   That's all fine, and hopefully some day we moms can stop fighting each other about who is right and wrong, and forgive ourselves for being who we are.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Swearing

I have a sailor's mouth.  I am absolutely serious.  I have a horrible yet fully satisfying relationship with swear words.
Come on, who wouldn't want to be this guy?


I'll never remember the feeling of walking around with my second grade friends, having one of them "teach" us how to swear on the playground, during recess, at school (shout out to Hamlin Elementary!) Now, I am not sure how we got away with that.  I will say that it was the 80's and the point of recess was to let us run wild, twice a day, no less, for 15 minutes with little to no supervision...and we liked it that way!  My point is, I learned to swear at school, and I studied that shit like a motherfucking ninja.

Unfortunately, this was my idea of a Ninja at the time.
The first time that all of those hours of studying came in handy in my early life was about a year later, in the winter, when I was in 3rd grade.  I was being tortured by two boys in my class, who would wait for me by the side of the road on my walk home, and pelt me with ice and snow balls.  This happened day after day, until I snapped.  

I loaded up my backpack with every single textbook I had in my desk.  I walked home, unassumingly, playing Paula Abdul in my Walkman, and I let them pelt me with ice balls. 
Then, the revenge came.  I calmly took off my backpack, and attacked them with it, bludgeoning them mercilessly.  One of the boys ran off,presumably embarrassed that he had been outsmarted by a girl, and then there was only one left.  I took down that second boy with a quick backpack to the head, followed by my hysterical scream "You're a little BITCH!"  Then I laughed maniacally, left him in the snow bank and walked home.
Later, that night, my mom got a call from his mom, where she had to sit through his mother complaining about my foul language, and how I had attacked her son.  After I explained the situation to her, she told me that she supported my backpack revenge, but that the swearing was inappropriate.  I had to apologize.  
I am SO FUCKING SORRY you're a little Bitch.
 To this day, that was one of my more triumphant moments because I actually stood up to a bully.  And, because it's a fucking badass story.   And that, my friends, is why swearing is awesome.




Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Perfectly Imperfect Parenting

Yo, moms, let's have a little talk.  When I was a teenager and watching informational movies in school, the  cool guy would always turn a chair around, straddle it, and say:

"Let's Have a Rap Session"

No...not exactly what I had in mind.
Just for giggles, do an image search of "straddle chair."  Enjoy

Back to our little talk.  We are in a time and place where most moms come into motherhood after having been college students, then professionals.  We have approached our careers, both school and work, as a process, where you learn what to do, how to study, have a path and follow it.  You work hard.  You follow the rules and make the sacrifices and, eventually and most of the time, you are rewarded.  You now have a new position, a new career path, and people appreciate what you have accomplished.
It is my opinion (and therefore the truth) that this has completely screwed our generation when it comes to our expectations of ourselves when it comes to parenting.
 When you are a mom, you are on your own.  Yes.  On. Your. Own.

Let that sink in for a second.  All of the habits and skills you have worked so hard to hone your whole adult life will not matter at all.  This position is so different from anything you have ever done before that it will almost certainly send you into a tailspin-not necessarily into depression (although that is very serious, and you can find more information here) but into something that is also very troubling:  Severe Overeducation Syndrome.  I Just Made That Up!
You know what I mean, Hell, I am even guilty of it myself!  You decide that there will be the method to raise your children, you will not deviate, they will do what you want, and will be the perfect specimen that you work so hard to grow.  I had many ideas.  I was the one who had books galore.  I had my whole schedule, etc.  Then I had a baby.  Not only did I have a baby, but I had a C-section because she was Frank Breach.  I couldn't breastfeed.  I had postpartum depression.  I was miserable and felt like a complete and utter failure.  I didn't understand why this was so hard.  You know why it was so hard?  I was sabotaging myself with my own expectations.

I know how to recognize it.  I know how it's going to turn out.  I know now not to say anything.  Whenever I hear about people reading, highlighting, studying a "method" of parenting I cringe.  If you are a mostly functional individual, you can raise children.  Let me clarify that.  If you are generally responsible, kind, loving, have a sense of humor and know the difference between right and wrong, you can raise kind, functional, funny, sweet children who know the difference between right and wrong.  

You can see where this would scare most professional women, and why it would scare most people.  
That's okay.  This is scary shit!
There are a few things you need to know:
  • If you are worried about doing it right, you're probably a good parent.
  • If you spend all of your time worried that you're doing it wrong, then researching, blaming, being miserable, you've taken a wrong turn.
  • You need to RELAX!  
  • No one method is going to work for you.  No one answer is going to work for you.  Children are people, people are complicated.  Life is complicated.  Be consistent, but be just. 
  •  However, at some point you will be unjust towards your children.  You will make the wrong call.  Forgive yourself.

Enjoy your children.  They are awesome.  They prove that you can make a little miracle, and that you are capable on unconditional love.  That is amazing.  They show you more reasons to succeed and provide for them than you could ever have before you were a parent.  They can make you smile from your heart-that's the only way I can describe they way those grubby, sweaty little kisses feel.  They can drive you absolutely crazy,   and they can make you laugh at the same time.  

And, you can be sure, that, no matter what you do, you will be considered (possibly at the same time) the coolest, stupidest, funniest, hardest working, craziest person they have ever met.  And, if you have been even moderately good at parenting, they will love you more than anything else.

Except if you do this to them. 


If you want more information on the basics of being a good parent, check out this article. 


Friday, March 9, 2012

Boxed Wine

First of all, is it Box wine or Boxed wine...does it really matter?  No.  It does not. 

You may ask:  How much do you love your boxed wine?  Enough to take a picture of it and make an Andy Warhol-esque portrait with it. 

So, why do I love my cheap, delicious boxed wine so much more than bottled wine?  Let me count the ways:
  1. It is portable.  A bladder of wine in a cardboard box is virtually indestructible and in my world (where I am completely clumsy and butter fingered and constantly tripping over my children, dog, my kids toys and random pieces of junk) I need something that will not shatter into a million pieces and stab me in the toe or heart...
  2. It lasts FOREVER!  First of all, one bottle of wine is just one bottle.  When you pour a glass of wine the way I do (see below), that sucker doesn't last very long at all.  A box of wine has a great little tap on it (always go for the push button tap-not the screw top tap) and doesn't go bad.  So, in between my wine tasting group's meetings, my $13 box of wine will stay just as delicious as the first day I opened it.
  3. It tastes delicious.  I think that there is nothing better than a good, smooth glass of white zinfandel.  It is fruity, sweet, smooth and delicious.
  4. They serve it at restaurants and bars.  Yup.  You read that right.  Last weekend my friends and I went to several bars and restaurants in one evening.  We went to 5 different places.  In each place, I ordered the same thing.  (Yes, white Zin).  In 4 out of 5 places...the wine I got was CLEARLY Franzia...FROM A BOX!  Yes, I paid $5 for a glass of boxed wine that was arguably crappier than my boxed wine at home.  So, if it's good enough for them to overcharge me for, it's good enough for me to buy.  And, in the event that it wasn't Franzia, it was not making the case for me to spend the extra money for bottled wine, as it tasted like ass, and my delicious Vella tastes like sweet manna from heaven.

If I just paid $5 for that amount of wine, the glass had better be as big as my head.



Now that's how you pour a glass of wine, bitches!
So there are many other articles extolling the value of bottled wine and there are many others talking about other things.  Obviously, I did a lot of research before I wrote this post-I pretty much googled "Boxed Wine" and then ignored the search and started looking at the pictures associated with boxed wine-which were much more entertaining. Then I started looking at Halloween costumes based on boxed wine-which were infinitely more entertaining.

That's how I came across this thing.  Um...isn't that just a box with legs?  What is the point of taking your wine bag out of one box and putting it into another box?  You can almost hear these two douchebags talking:
Hipster Girl 1:  You know what would be so funny and ironic?
Hipster Girl 2:  You mean besides my crazy stupid plaid lumberjack prostitute look?
Hipster Girl 1:  Yeah...to drink wine out of a box because...like...it's so not cool.
Hipster Girl 2:  But, that box is really ugly.  I want it in a different box so that it looks cool while we comment on how lame it is to drink a boxed wine.
Hipster Girl 1:  Yeah.  That is so ironic and lame.  It is cool because it's so lame. 
End scene.

I hope that illuminates some things for you.  Basically, I have no idea how to end this post, so that's it.  Move along, folks.  Good night and good luck.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

My Name is Dave

Hi.  I have a new name now.  It's Dave.  You see, I am a boss.  I run a small business with my friend (shameless plug here).  We are new to being bosses, and finding it challenging and fun at the same time.  We are both Dave, and we refer to each other as such. 
What is the most challenging think about being the boss?  You are responsible for everything.  It is terrifying and liberating to think that if something doesn't get done, there is really no one else to take it over for you.  On one hand, you are able to do things the way you want.  On the other, you are the one responsible when things go wrong.   It's a lot like being a parent in that way, except no one expects you to make money being a mom.
This is what I thought it would look like to work from home with my children by my side.

So, what does a day look like for a small business owner?  We are finding that there is no typical day.  On any given day, we are working on promotions, advertising, pricing structures, web design, social media strategies, lesson planning, space/leasing issues, customer retention, teaching classes, and planning for the future among other things.  We are trying to manage finances, figure out how best to hire and pay employees It is a challenge to work in my normal load of housework, bill paying, grocery shopping and still find time for my other part time job.  That doesn't even include time for my family.  There is some time for my family, but it's built in between my business tasks.
This is what it actually looks like.
 Now, that is not to say that all is not well and that I don't enjoy my new position.   I think that I am getting more organized and am being forced to come up with more of a schedule for housework.  My daughters are having to be more patient, and are getting to see what it takes to build a business from the ground up.  They are getting to be a part of a really fun music and movement program, and are a great focus group.  My husband is being very helpful and supportive, and is there with an "'atta girl" when I need one. 

I guess I'll leave you with this thought.  Being a small business owner, especially being a new small business owner, is hard, confusing and scary.  It is also tons of fun, liberating and creates a sense of accomplishment.  We are building something new, necessary and helpful to people in our area, and we are having a blast doing it.  



Look out, world, the Daves are here and you are all going to have to walk a little faster to catch up. 

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

What About Me?

What is the biggest challenge for moms in the whole world? It is trying to figure out who you are, apart from your children. That is a crazy idea, but, even if you have a baby, it's something that we all have to think about. You know why? Some day, if we do our job the right way and circumstances allow it, they will be on their way, and we will be "us" again. Yes, we'll always be their moms, but we will once again be on our own, with free time, (hopefully) some extra money, and we will be of legal age to do almost anything!

                                                                  Yup, even that.

So, let's start making a list of the things that we want to do now, but we know that if we were caught it would look bad and you would probably be labeled as a degenerate by the Parent Teacher Council (unless,of course, you have them in on the activities with you).

So, what will we be able to do when we are able to be ourselves? We can travel to exotic, not necessarily kid friendly locations




 I hadn't noticed old people crossing the road with their hands up each other's asses before. I'll be sure to look for it now.






We can try new and exciting foods, we can listen to as much hardcore, Gangsta rap as we want with our windows down and our systems up because you know what? We won't give a ___sorry, can't say it. The kids are still in the room.
You get the general idea.

We'll be older, but not too old, and we'll be ready to reclaim some of the youth we were so eager to put on the back burner in order to raise our children responsibly. This doesn't mean, though, that we have to get stale, boring, bland and overly mature. We can still laugh at potty humor. We can still get a little wild with our friends, we can still be us because, in the end, that is what our kids are going to remember. They are going to remember our little idiosyncrasies and the things that made us special to them. They're also going to remember all of the things that you did to permanently scar your children (mine are going to remember because I am keeping a running log for them-so that they can just hand that sucker over to their therapist some day). Just be you. Don't worry about being a super parent. be the best parent you can be. Because, when they are grown and on their own some day, you are going to be left with yourself. Isn't it easier to act a little foolish if you've always been kind of a goof ball? I think there's less to explain that way. They'll just say "Oh, that's mom, she's a little crazy," instead of "Goodness, Muffy, Mother seems to have stepped off the deep end, perhaps we should have an intervention. She is eating her ice cream before her dinner!"

This picture has nothing to do with anything, but it makes me giggle. And that, my friends, is why I am a good, authentic parent.

Sibling Rivalry

So...it's been nearly a year since I have done anything with this blog, and I have missed it. However, life has been busy, I've been busy and I haven't been able to get going with my writing again...until now. You see, my sister started a really good blog. I mean really good. It's here. So, naturally, I had to start blogging again, because God Damn it, she CANNOT beat me at something else!


Me and my sister, before it all went to Hell.

You see, my sister, whom I love very much, is also my nemesis. She is my nemesister, if you will. I am older than her by 2 1/2 years, and ahead of her by one year in school. We are friends, we are sisters, and we HATED each other when we were growing up. Now, I hear you asking, "Why did you hate such a talented, smart, wonderful kid like Stephanie?" Do you really want to know why? We hated each other because we were always competing. Not only were we always competing, but she always won! In my eyes, that was just not right. I was older. I was tougher. But, somehow, she was smarter and just plain better at everything.
This wasn't like a friendly competition. Oh, no. This was a no holds-barred, balls out, two will enter and only one will leave type of competition.

Actual D'Orsay Family Christmas Photo

My favorite (translation: most mortifying) experience happened when she went to some math class in High School and her teacher (who had been my teacher the year before) told her that he didn't think that she belonged in that class, that it was too hard for her...because he thought she was me! It turns out that he would have been right. I can see that now. I laughed at the time but it wasn't that real laugh. Now I laugh about it for real...uh-huh... sure I do.

No, really, I do. You know why? A few years ago, I figured out that my sister wasn't the root of all evil. She wasn't even the root of a little bit of it. She was just a cute kid who worked a whole lot harder than I did on most things. She was always studying. She was always practicing. She was always working. I was not. I made a choice in school to do fine but not to really push myself because, honestly, my social life was much more important to me than anything else. It's just one of many lessons I wish I could go back and slap my stupid self silly in high school. I would say "Look, stupid, you have chosen to go out, have a lot of fun, goof off and do your best in school-as long as it doesn't interfere with your social life. That's okay. It's going to work out just fine for you. But don't get mad at your sister because she is willing to work harder. Be proud of her."

Now I am. I also have two children. Two little daughters who are 3 1/2 years apart. I see the seeds of sibling rivalry starting to germinate. I know that it's going to raise it's ugly head soon, and I hope that we can all make it without too many cage match type fights. Until then, I'll just prepare the cage, set admission prices, and get ready to RUMBLE!

Love you, Steph. And, since you love clowns so much, this one is for you.


I'm sorry I was such a bastard to you for so many years, but at least we can laugh about it. Now, look at those clown faces again.