Ode to my KitchenAid.

You started out as a pair of jeans and two sweaters for Christmas two years ago. I decided I didn't need those and took them back to Macys. I got a $200 dollar gift card.

And then I saw you. White and shiny with your stainless bowl, 4.5 quarts of beauty. All with whisk, flat beater and dough hook, and an optional attachment unit just staring at me from across the store.

The KitchenAid Classic Mixer.

I had to have you.

I dreamed of you for years and loved you from afar on that dusty shelf you sat on every time I walked into the kitchenware department at Macys. My girlfriends all raved of you, and all I could do was wish they would turn their backs long enough for me to steal theirs! It never happened though. The time had come to purchase my dream. There was no turning back!

I handed my gift card to the lady at the register, grabbed you and ran!

KitchenAid things haven't been the same since I brought you home. Some may call me a bake-a-holic. They don't know that I just secretly like to use you. I love to see what you can do for me and how fantastic you'll make my cookies or cakes taste! My world was dark and boring with my hand held mixer before. You make everything fluffy and creamy and delicious! My cookies before were lifeless and flat. My cream cheese frosting was... lumpy. You restored my faith in baking! I can never repay you!

My family loves you too. They want me to use you every day but I tell them you are special and can't be brought out for just anything. They are not allowed to touch you. Only I can! You are mine and only mine!

Don't ever leave me KitchenAid. If you do, I'll be sad... but I promise to buy the 5 quart with the bowl lift feature feature to live in your memory. And I might insist on buying the ice cream maker attachment too!

Oh and P.S. The boys at FFPs firehouse say my cookies are a work of art. I owe it all to you my cookie making machine!

What's a half-truth?

What the hell is a half truth? It's not the truth, and it's not a lie... or is it?

The average liar tells 88,000 lies in their whole life. I think that's a pretty low number. If I counted my own lies from now until I die, I wonder if I'd get more than that. I'm not a good liar. I crack under pressure. Anyone who knows me can tell the second I start fabricating. I mostly lie to my mom because I hate upsetting her. I tell her everything is fine, even when it's not, and even though I KNOW she can see right through my bluff. She never calls me out though. She waits for me to tell her what's really going on, because she knows I will. I can't keep stuff from my mom. I don't think I know how.

For the most part though, I'm like Avery from Jerry Maguire. I'm all about the brutal truth. I know it's painful, and sometimes unnecessary, but who am I not to be anything but honest. I try to be nice, but it never really works out that way. I just don't like lying to people. I think it's unfair and it's just not a characteristic I care for. Maybe that's why I love the name Avery so much. That character was great!

Half truths... really piss me off. Why are you going to sit there and tell me part of the story but either omit some parts, or totally fabricate the rest? What is the POINT OF THAT??? It's like giving me half an apple, and then switching the other half for a banana to see if I'll notice. Dude, I notice! They don't even go together! Either tell me the whole truth, or just lie to me all together. In the end, the lie or half-truth only makes ME look like the idiot. When someone lies to me, they are basically saying " I don't trust you enough to tell you what is actually happening." Quite the slap in the face if you ask me.

Half truths are a vicious cycle....

Disney references everywhere!!!!!!!

Pure chaos. Right now everything is moving at the speed of light! I always dread the end of the school year because it seems like there are fifty things to do every day! Madness!

We've got teenager winding down her first year in high school. Lets just say it has not been an easy ride for this girl, or for us. It's like getting stuck on the "Its a Small World" ride in Disneyland with the song pounding through the speakers over and over and over again and all you want to do jump overboard and run to the emergency exit just to save your sanity! That's my analogy of freshman year! Isn't that terrible? I don't remember it being so difficult, but every kid is different, right? For her sake and ours, we pray that next school year will be a little less dramatic! She's gotten herself a job this summer, so maybe JUST maybe she'll learn some responsibility. Wishful thinking?

3 year old is starting Pre-K next month. CRAZY! How the heck did she get so old so fast? I think when she realizes she gets to spend the summer in the same class as her cousin she is going to FREAK! I feel bad for their teachers! Those two are like Cinderella's step sisters, Drisella and Anastasia! Being 15 months apart really is fun for them, but they butt heads so badly it makes my head hurt!

The baby is 7 months tomorrow! What? No! Slow down! She's officially crawling, standing, whining, crying, you name it! She's fun though. I love her. She's getting baptized finally next Sunday so we are busy getting the house together for the after party. I'm a bit nervous to have like 50+ people in our house! I just hope it's not as hot as it has been this week! 100 degrees in my house would not be pretty!!!

So the season of mass hysteria begins. I think so far our weekends are filled until August. And somewhere in the mix, I'm going to start school again! OH man! I think I've got a bit too much on my plate!

I'm trying to delegate more. FFP says its necessary to keep my sanity. I guess I agree with him, but shh... I'm not going to tell him that. That would mean he was right!

I wish I was in line for Space Mountain right now. I can always count on that line to go slow!

Masquerade

I can't get that Phantom of the Opera song "Masquerade" out of my head. Not sure why, but I'm assuming that it's some kind of subconscious notion in my head that pertains to my actual life.

Masquerade!
Paper faces on parade . . .
Masquerade!
Hide your face,
so the world will
never find you!
Masquerade!
Every face a different shade . . .
Masquerade!
Look around -
there's another
mask behind you!....

Apparently 3 year old is evil. Everyone says so. My family, my husband, teenager. She's mean. She doesn't share, she hits, blah blah blah blah. Last time I checked all kids perform some type of this behavior at some point in their lives. Mine, just happens to be going through it all at once. I can't help it. I'm trying my best to help her but it's not the easiest thing to do with a teenager and a baby in the house. I pay attention to her as best as I can.

I know she's been adjusting since FFP got his job. She's still not used to the whole 2 days on 4 days off concept. She's been with daddy every day since she was born. Now all of a sudden he's gone for 2 days and she's confused. I was hoping the transition would go a bit smoother, but it hasn't. Then of course throw new baby into the mix and me focusing on baby's needs... there's a lot less attention headed in 3 year olds direction! I know she's getting the short end of the stick. I'm trying to be a good mommy to her and hold down the rest of the fort.

Everyone thinks I have it all together all the time and no additional help is needed. That's just a load of crap! I might be a stubborn mule, but I appreciate help when it's needed. No one asks me! They just assume little Audra can handle it all and I'll figure out how to deal. Oh and I also suck at baking I guess. So says that last two cakes I've produced and the people who consumed them. I thought homemade was so much better, but apparently store bought is best for some.

I guess I'll just put on the mask and pretend like I have it all under control...

Mother's Day

3 year old: "Mom is today Mother's Day?"

me: "Yes it is."

3 year old: "Oh. OK..... ummm mom?"

me: "Yes?"

3 year old: "When is it gonna be Kid's Day?"

me: "Baby every day is Kid's Day!"

3 year old: "Cool!"

How much am I worth?

If I got paid to stay at home, I'd be making more than a hundred grand a year. That's what the latest poll from salary.com says.

So where's my check?

I've been a "stay at home" mom going on 11 months now. Have I gotten any monetary compensation for it? Uhh no. I don't count the unemployment money from being laid off, or the disability compensation for 6 freaking weeks after I had baby. I mean, if I hadn't gotten laid off last June I probably would have gone back after my maternity leave. I would have hated it, but man the money was great, the benefits were even greater, and the freedom of not being "mommy" for 7.5 hours a day was pretty nice. I had a pension! I had a retirement! I was worth something!!!

Now don't get me wrong, I love being home. Seriously. I'm not trying to convince myself. I do. My kids are fun, entertaining and exciting. It's just that they definitely can't hold an adult conversation. There's just nothing better than talking to another adult about absolutely nothing and feeling like I still have a useful brain. I'm not all Dora and SpongeBob and play doh and wonder color markers! I have been forgetting lately that there's more to me than instructing my husband how to put 3 year old in time out, or telling teenager not to back talk, or making sure 3 year old doesn't accidentally injure baby. Everything is sort of out of control these days, and my only sense of security is to be "boss mommy," and order everyone to do it my way or get out of my face! I know... I know. I'm a control freak. Shocking.

I mean really, why am I not getting paid for this? I basically took care of my boss like he was my child when I was working. The antiquated, hates computers, still makes me use a typewriter boss! I did everything for him, and he paid me WELL! Where's the money I should be getting for doing everything for the crazy husband and children on a daily basis? Should I stoop so low and start soliciting people on the internet to pay my bills like that crazy lady did? (If you haven't heard about that... oh man it's a doozey!)

I'm taking donations.

Oooohhhh what's that sound???

Call it some sick sadistic personality disorder, but I love the sound of a good siren. It could be the fact that we live in a relatively small town where excitement is few and far between. My ears perk up at the low roar of the firetrucks driving down the busy boulevard next to my house. I look at FFP and we wait. There's the next one. Oh, oh there's the chief's car! It must be something good! I being the nerd that I am, jump on the computer and pull up our dispatch's website. Ohhh structure fire! FUN!

I know what you're thinking. LOSER! Hey, I know. It's like being a little kid!

I wonder if the excitement of the siren has anything to do with FFP? My husband. The Firefighter/Paramedic. In my blogs now he'll forever be known as FFP. What a label. It's a great one dang it and he worked LONG and hard to get it. So I honor the label and honor him for doing what he loves to do. I think after 9 grueling years of filling out applications, taking written and physical agility tests over and over, the interviews, the disappointment of getting the "We regret to inform you..." letters, it is such a wonderful thing to see him finally reach his goal. It just goes to show that patience really does prevail in the end. He's the inspiration to never give up on your dream.

I wonder if I'd feel the same way about that siren if I knew he was on that engine? I think the fear would outweigh the excitement tenfold. Luckily I will never hear his engine go out on a call because he's not working in our town. I remember when he was working on that ambulance in the city of death... as I like to call it! I would cringe in the morning watching the news to see if his ambulance appeared. He worked night shifts and in the city of death, the night shift is where all the nasty gory disgusting traumas happened. His old colleagues called him the "trauma jumper." He would prey on the radio just waiting to pounce on a shooting or nasty car wreck so that he could have his moment of glory. That's his nature. He lives to be the hero, hence the FFP job! He has rubbed off on the 3 year old who now says she wants to be a trauma surgeon when she grows up. Sick!

I love him. He's really awesome.

And so it begins...

Oh boy. I'm officially a blogger. I figure it's a good way to keep a journal and apparently online is the way to do it. I'm going to go big or go home on these blogs so don't laugh! :)

4 goals for me in the next 4 years (in order of importance!)

1. Finish College already! GOD!
2. Start my own event planning business (or get hired with Mindy Weiss and move to LA... a girl can dream!)
3. Have ONE more kid dang it!
4. Write a book. Actually a few, but mainly finish the one I've been muddling over for some time.

Ready. Set. GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!