I'm a Halloweenie

I AM A HALLOWEEN FANATIC!
I can't remember not being obsessed with the magical fall holiday of Halloween. While other children were patiently counting the days until Christmas or their birthday- I was busy planning my costume and waiting for my mom to put out my favorite decorations. I also love creepy things. Again, I can't remember not being the weirdo that both loved and hated scaring herself. I loved playing hide and seek with my cousins because I'd crave that rush I would get while waiting in the dark of my chosen hiding spot. However, every time I'd hear the seeker get close...I'd pee my pants.
33 years later and I'm still a bit too scared to play hide and seek but spend at least 1 day a week watching horror movies. Long story short: I love Halloween. I have also created 3 more little fanatics that plan their costumes in March and beg Mom to put out the pumpkin decor in September.
I'll be sharing some of my favorite Halloween traditions, crafts and recipes with you as well as fun holiday challenges.

HALLOWEEN MOVIE CHALLENGE 2014

I AM GOING TO ADD

1. IT'S THE GREAT PUMPKIN
2. GARFIELD'S HALLOWEEN SPECIAL
3. HALLOWEEN TOWN

These are all Kid friendly for sure, while the others depend on how you parent.

Why Infidelity is a Miserable Bitch

So, you've met the man of your dreams. Your heart is all a flutter with the hopes and dreams of your future with him. He buys you flowers, jewelry and takes you on weekend get a ways. This man is perfect. He'd be even more perfect if he'd ditch that damn wife of his.

Yeah that's right, he's flipping married. He bought a diamond, some china and a home with another woman. He made promises and children with another woman. 

Did he tell you she was crazy? Wax poetic about how he wished he'd met you sooner? Yeah I bet he did. He's a fucking liar.

No this is not about my personal situation. My husband and I are both way to far up each others asses to cheat. Our needs are met and we take our commitment seriously. Plus I'm Latin and he doesn't want to die. I am speaking of the numerous times that I've watched this story unfold around me. I've been the ear of friends that think they're in love with married men and I've listened to the grievances of the jilted wife. I've even heard the BS that can spew from a man who is cheating. All these years of listening have given me enough fuel to feel pretty strongly about infidelity and how it could be prevented.  

I used to love the show Reba. It had all the stupid crap I look for in a sitcom. Funny characters, a whiny teen, stupid antics. It also had the most unbelievable plot that I've ever seen. A divorcee living with her 3 kids, left with nothing after she helped her husband build a career to which he thanked her by impregnating his assistant. Of course they all become best friends and confidants. This plot line is probably what most men hope will happen after they bang their secretary, right? Everyone will be super understanding and move on. It doesn't happen that way. There will be insane bitterness and childish behavior. There will be tears, ugly tears, kim kardashian ugly tears. It's real life and being cheated on sucks.

When I was younger I had terrible taste in guys. I dated 2 different guys in high school and they both eventually cheated. The first one probably wanted sex. Actually I know he wanted that. I just wasn't willing to give it to him and he found girls that would. Good for him. The second one I had planned a future with. After 2 years, an engagement and me pretending to support his dumbass ideals he found a girl that was giggly and even younger who would make him feel like a king. That one really hurt. It's hurts to know someone lied and fooled around exposing you to diseases. Lucky for me I was 20 and apparently not really in love. I mourned that relationship for 3 weeks before picking myself up by my boot straps and moving on. Soon after I met my husband and the rest is history. I couldn't imagine the pain of having a man I had built a life with cheat. That pain wouldn't be fixed by some shots with your girlfriends and badmouthing his penis size. It would change who you were as a person no matter how much of a feminist you consider yourself. 

I would love to hear from even more people who have been in any of the situations I described above.  The wife, husband, lover etc. It would be anonymous of course and I would use the info for a fairly long research style blog post. If you're willing to share with me please email me at sarabelle81@gmail.com

Thanks Sarah

Homework Is BS

Homework is bullshit.

No, I'm not a 15 year old with tons of algebra and history to finish before I can jet out to the mall with my friends. I'm speaking as a 33 year old mother of 3.  I have 2 kids in grade school and they both have an average of 2 hours of homework a day. Add that to their preferred extra curricular or our family routine and they are left with no time to be actual children. My complete disgust with our education system grows every year, but due to the fact that there is no amount of alcohol on Earth that will make me patient enough to teach them myself...homeschooling is out of the question.

I like the idea of necessary homework. Practicing spelling words or a few math facts. I do not understand why my daughter needs to learn fresh concepts with me at the helm. I'm not qualified to teach math to anyone. I was once the dumbass senior in the freshman algebra class in High School. During the first week of 3rd grade my daughter came home with division problems. That would be fine except she hadn't learned how to even multiply yet and when school closed in May she was still on subtraction. So was I to understand that I could now add math teacher to the list of crap I do all day? 

More and more of my friends are starting to home school. When I was a kid the only kids that were home schooled were members of creepy religious cults. Now-a-days every other mom on Facebook is sharing her first day pictures of well rested kids in their pajamas doing science projects over breakfast. I wish I was capable of being that mom. I selfishly love my quiet days to myself when my darling angels are someone elses problem for 7 hours. I clean the house, lunch with friends, go to Target without having one argument regarding why I am not buying cheese puffs or another barbie.  I feel like I've put in the time, suffered the loss of my abs and the luxury of privacy and in return I'm given those days to myself.  I'm also a terrible teacher. Within moments of attempting to explain the concept of division to my 8 year old, I'm just doing it for her. Sure she writes it down but I'm the one counting the numbers and guiding her to the answer (guiding is a nice way of saying giving). She's tired of learning by 3pm. She's been doing it all damn day and wants her break. By the time we finish our first hour of semi-attentive learning she completely gives up. Tears begin to flow, her teacher's name is cursed and her older brother is now in the room telling her to shut up so he can concentrate. It isn't a pleasant experience for anyone involved. After we finish math, we move on to her spelling word practice, timed math facts, reading and reading log questions. Sometimes she brings home a school book and gets to re-read a story THAT THEY ALREADY READ IN CLASS THAT  VERY SAME DAY to me. Because everyone knows, parents love stories about fluffy bunnies cooking a stew that your child already knows the ending of and therefore is completely exasperated with the idea of re-living it. During the year they sprinkle in projects that are a complete waste of everyones time, not to mention the new common core curriculum that has made school work even more tedious.  "Solve the math problem, then write a paragraph on why you used that method"...REALLY? After 6 years on this side of the homework battle I'm ready to throw in the towel. 

No one is prepping for college in 3rd grade (my thoughts on college are for a complete other blog  post). My daughter doesn't know what she wants for an after school snack let alone have her adult life planned out. Elementary school is meant for learning basic knowledge and social skills. After school hours should be fun. Playing with friends, baking cookies, sports, actually reading for pleasure etc. 

Those things should be just as important as learning how to divide apples amongst a hypothetical group of friends.

America is not the educated super power of the day. Obviously our system isn't working. Instead of having quality learning and proper time management during school hours, we under pay teachers and force kids to spend time coloring the apples that they are supposed to be multiplying. Extra work is pushed off for the parents to handle and every year it gets worse. Kids come home from a long day at school and are forced into busy schedules at home. Rushing through homework isn't always an option so family time is put on the burner. When our kids can't focus with the ridiculous amount of pressure placed on them we pump them full of medications. We lose time for a proper family meal and toss frozen corn dogs or fast food junk at them in between different activities. Our kids are becoming fat little sociopaths. 

Since I can't fix the world (no one will let me, I keep offering) I've decided to pick one battle at a time. We parents have to possess some type of power. Our tax dollars pay for the education system...right? An anti-homework revolution needs to happen before our kids are clinging from a clock tower shouting obscenities at strangers after they finally snap. Who is with me? Or do you enjoy finding the answer to "How many of Pablo's friends got green apples and how many got red"? 

I already went to school. I'm too old to re-live 3rd grade.
Plus...calculators are awesome.

It is fall...because I declare it so. A housewives ode

Bust out your yoga pants ladies! It's fall. Sure its 100 degrees outside and the trees are still greenish,  I'm in an autumn state of mind regardless. I am officially declaring it so. I'm sure if Oprah made that statement instead of little ol me and my teeny audience it would have more bearing. I had a long summer. It was both busy and fun yet boring at times. It was freaking hot. Heat makes me moody. I also hate wearing summer clothes. The cloud of melancholy has always followed me. That type of personality was made for chunky knits and corduroy skinnies, paired with knee high leather boots and those adorable boot socks peaking out. Come on ladies, you are so excited to bust out that outfit. On days where you just need to make a Target run after hitting up Starbucks for your Pumpkin Spice latte (or my personal fall drink, Chai Tea Latte), you pull out your favorite pair of yoga pants and a cute hat. Whether or not you actually do yoga is up to you. Speaking of our housewife mecca, Target. Have you been by their fall section yet? I'm currently trying to snag up the patio stuff on clearance. In my hometown fall is when we start eating outside more. It's too damn hot to host a party in the summer. Everyone ends up hanging out in your kitchen with the AC blazing. In fall we go outside. I've already filled my patio flower pots with cinnamon scented pine cones to set the mood. My house would be covered with them too if my husband hadn't banned them to the outdoors. Don't worry about inside though. I've got my harvest scented Scentcy and apple pie candle going. My dogs are munching on pumpkin flavored raw hides (they're confused but will eat anything)  while I do laundry in my perfect climate (aka got the AC bumping') in a complete amber haze of autumn.

Whey do we love fall so much? I do not recall the housewives of the 80's and 90's being this nostalgic. I completely blame Target and their clever hipster marketing team. They've made fall more awesome and the other stores just followed behind. Who do you think follows the stores? Wives and mothers and those damn kids.

I've always loved fall. It was and is my favorite season. I grew up in  northern Utah and fall is beautiful there. While I'm glad my family moved from there when I was 11, I am so grateful to those fall memories of leaf piles and orange hues. I'm grateful because fall in my life since has been hot. It sucks. Because it sucks I've had years to perfect the faux fall that seems to be all the rage now. My oldest son was my only victim. His birthday happened to fall in October and that is by far my favorite month. I'm a Halloween fanatic (see above's melancholy cloud) that is in a very festive mood all month long. Well, I cheerfully packed his bag for the hospital. An adorable little pumpkin long sleeved outfit and a brown chunky lion beenie. Well, that kid entered our house in a short sleeved onesie with the name of the hospital on it and beenie free. It was 95 degrees outside. It was worse than the week before when I was still huge and pregnant. At least then I could sit in a cool pool half the day. Even the best fall faking can sometimes be reminded that I don't live in a quaint Connecticut farmhouse seen on Pinterest, but a sweaty dessert valley in California.
I haven't purchased my first Chai Tea Latte yet but I'm nearly there. I think everyone has their own personal touches that get you into the fall mood. We can't all be about yoga pants and coffee. I used to love being a kid this time of year and can only remember the really good things about seasons. For example, I loved having white Christmas's but never had to drive in the weather or shovel my sidewalk twice a day.  I'm sure there are annoying or trivial times in my memory somewhere but they aren't there when September hits and I immediately get excited. A couple other things that immediately put me in a fall mood are the dang pine cones and The Rocky Horror Picture show. I but the cinnamon pine cones the minute they come out (Michael's is always first in mid August) and then watch that movie while the kids are at school and I'm power cleaning. I have seen it 800 times and don't need to sit and watch. I sing the songs while stepping over pets while carrying laundry baskets all over the house. It's my me time and it's amazing. In November these things will switch to baking cookies and Christmas Vacation. I'm the most predictable person on earth.
I'm patiently waiting for October to hit. My favorite month is filled with 2 of my children's birthdays, a Broken Bells concert with my husband, Monday night footballs with our best friends and my beloved Halloween. So help me out ladies. Lets declare it fall and get the good moods flowing. Turn on The Great Pumpkin early this year or turn up the speakers in your SUV to your fall mix. You don't have a fall playlist on your iPhone? Stop reading immediately and make one...

my early fall contributions

Stay at Home Guilt?

I am a stay at home mom and wife. I hadn't known I'd enjoy it as much as I have. I've never missed a milestone or event in any of my three children's lives. I have gone to every doctor appt, playdate and every lesson. It isn't a lifestyle choice I made prior to having my first child. I simply quit working because it would cost me as much in daycare as I was going to make. My husband had recently started a business, we'd just bought a more expensive home and it was a very stressful first year, but we squeaked by and I fell into a routine. Being alone with my son was awesome experience, however it had its drawbacks. I was lonely, sleepy, sometimes even bored and  had lost all connection with the outside world. By the time baby #2 and #3 showed up I could scratch more and more of that off the list. We had made great groups of friends with children (we were the first of all our pre-kid friends to have kids), 3 tiny people running around make it hard to be bored, they're old enough now to allow me sleep and their school, my husband and my friends keep me pretty connected to the world. I'm very very content and happy with my job.
What could possibly be wrong with my life, right? Well I'm going to admit to something that most moms are never supposed to admit...we are sometimes selfish, lazy and guilty. Harsh? Quite, but true. I have chosen lunch with a girlfriend over errands or housework. I've laid on the couch and had a Pioneer Woman marathon. All of the aforementioned occasionally makes me feel like shit. When my kids were all home during the day I was a martyr for the cause. "I'm exhausted!" I'd exclaim when my husband would come home from work. I'd secretly pout while everyone was relaxing or playing and I'm having to make dinner, eat last, clean it up, etc. I was self-righteous at times and jealous of my husbands ability to be very close to his pre-kid self (admit it guys, your wife does wayyyy more) all the while letting yourself go or putting yourself last.  Hey, I carried, delivered and breastfed 3 friggin children. Sure I'd get like a week off after each delivery, but I was still needed to be on my toes. I was a saint. I had earned that shit. Fast forward a few years and at least 4 days a week completely kidless. I've got 2 in grade school and one in Pre-k and thanks to a fabulous Mother in Law- a "nana and kid" day. Its a Tuesday and she's done it with each kid before they go to school and it used to be the only free day I had. I'd shove grocery shopping, dental/doc appts and occasionaly a lunch alone with my husband. I now have my choice of what day I go grocery shopping. I can go every other dang day if I want to, and sometimes I do. I have lunch with my husband almost all of those days, and sometimes I purposely don't leave the house so I get to all those unfinished projects, deep cleaning, gardening or writing. Sure, I'm a neat freak that does actually clean her house every day. I also know that as moms our days are almost always filled with laundry, kid care, straightening, cooking and any general housewife stuff. Even our "days off" are filled with chores or unexpected messes. However, they don't take all day anymore. You aren't donating 4 hours a day to toddler food messes or play disasters. Also it's much easier to run  errands without your kids. A grocery trip that used to take 2 hours plus cost twice as much, now takes 40 minutes tops and thats with browsing. Life is easier.
I decided to go with my dream to start writing professionally. Even this decision makes me feel guilt ridden. Of course the minute I have more kid free time I go and select a barely paying job that I can do whenever and in whatever clothes I want to. As I type it is 12pm and I'm still in my yoga pants (I never did any yoga) and the shirt I slept in. My eyebrows are sparse and my usual cat eyed makeup isn't to be found. Hell, I haven't even put a bra on yet. My house is immacutaly clean thanks to my usually burst of energy at around 9am. My menagirie of pets are napping all around me and I'm on m 4th cup of coffee. My chores take such little time comparatively that I actually re-designed my youngest daughters barbie house. I feel the usual twinge of guilt at how easy I have it. My husband is a small business owner. Not only does he have to worry about his family and his wife's lavish Target lifestyle, but a dozen other families. My girlfriends that work outside the home have to work all day to come home and run their household. I can't help but feel a bit awful.
Yes I'm beyond blessed and my life isn't like every stay at home mom. Some have many more kids than I or have a child with special needs. However, if your story is similar to mine than it's time to admit that our life rocks. Everyone says we have the hardest job on Earth. That depends on what your definition of hard is. Yes I have to worry about my kids and how their raised, but so do parents that work. We don't care for our children more because we stay home. A household that is strapped for cash and having to both work while living on a strict budget has it so much worse than I do. I am lucky enough to not "have" to work. Yes it would be great if I could contribute more financially. We are by no means wealthy and without a care in the world. I have to stick to a budget and there is no excuse for my house to be dirty. I'd be re-evaluating my life if I was at the spa  twice a week or sipping cocktails by a pool all day. I'm by no means a kept woman. I just need to quit feeling like a mooch.
3pm remains the worst hour of my day. It's when all my kids get home. It's not that I don't  want to see them and hear about their day. I love their faces and laughs so much. Sadly, life isn't an episode of Leave it to Beaver and my kids are generally yelling at each other or bitching about being hungry. They are sweet children but 3pm they are little monsters. How can that not make one feel guilt? 

Is it our lot in life? Feeling bad about our choices? Maybe someday I'll get a higher paying job outside the home. Maybe someday I'll learn to feel only thankfulness for my situation. Being a mom means giving 110% of yourself to your children while balancing the proper treatment and love for yourself and your spouse. I only hope I learn to balance before my last child gets married. Maybe I never will. Until I figure it out I am going to slap on my yoga pants and head to target with Starbucks in hand. Maybe I'll find my peace there.