come on baby don't light my fire - a review and giveaway

Remember when my husband nearly set me on fire our down comforter on fire trying to set the 'mood' and get me to relax a little bit? (Don't worry new readers, I'm fine and with that whole cervical rest thing going on, you don't need to worry about me for a while!) Well, sweet Alexia, who works with Scentsy, seemed to be worried enough to send me something to take care of future romantic endeavors, a flameless candle.

Honestly, I'm a big sucker for anything that makes our house smell yummy. Ask my husband; I have flowers on the kitchen table, a plug-in in the entryway and my newest Scentsy warmer going all time (it's not an addiction people, we bought our house from smokers five year ago and I have the worlds most sensitive nose to smoke smell). I gotta tell you, I'm in love with the scent warmer.

Each warmer houses a small, low-wattage light bulb that warms up one of the 80 scent choices you have. There is no flame, no soot, no smoke; genius. My favorite part (being that I'm one of the cheapest people on Earth) is that you use every last bit of it. There is no core of the candle to toss out, you don't feel like you wasted half the candle since the wick is gone, because there isn't one. Also cool, when you want to change the wax scent before it's completely melted, just pour it back into the container the scents come in and pop out a new one to warm.

Can you tell, I'm a little (freakishly) in love my Scentsy warmer? Promise, you will be too!

One person can win a mid-sized scent warmer and three fragrances of your choice. Leave a comment for (1) entry. Follow me and leave a comment for a (2nd) entry. Twitter about this giveaway and leave a comment for a (3rd) entry. Same old stuff.

Good luck to all those who enter.

Hey FTC - Scentsy gave me a warmer and three scents for this review, no other compensation was received. FYI, I'll only do a review if I can give something to the readers in return, cause that's the way I roll, period. If you read my blog, ever, you'll know I'm probably way too honest - so my opinions here are honest too.

hands down - Minnesota Mommy Idol winner

I think I found my newest idol. Her name is Amanda (my husband loves the name Amanda and wishes many a days that I would change our baby girl's name to something more normal, like Amanda - but forget it, husband I'm not... anyways). Her name is Amanda, she's from Minnesota like me and she just had her third baby (see, we have tons things in common with each other).

But why is she my newest idol, you might ask?

Because she just gave birth while driving herself to the hospital.

Here's a few quotes from the newest mother on the block:

After her water broke, Amanda managed to pull her pants down while driving and "and then the baby just came out". "I was just sitting on the seat and he just slid out".

Umm, babies don't just 'slid' out of you! I've given birth to three - 6 pound 12 ounce peanuts (yes, I'm a freak with some sort of internal timer where all my babies weigh exactly the same weight at birth), I cannot imagine a 8 pound baby just *falling out* between my legs as I go merrily on my way to the hospital.

OK, so maybe we don't have that in common.

The article continues on: she held the baby and turned the heater on, and managed to steer the car into the parking lot of the hospital.

Do you read that? That means she continued to drive to the hospital *after* just giving birth to her son!

I admit, I'm not a big cell phone user (I know there are people gasping in horror at this), but I'm pretty certain I would be calling 911 after delivering a baby behind the wheel of my Chevy and *not* driving our new threesome to the hospital.

Also, pretty certain after giving birth to a child, I like to use some of my 'princess points' for my husband to treat me all special: like getting me some water... ordering me a pizza... talking about how awesome I am for just bringing a human being into the world.

So, maybe Amanda and I don't have that much in common after all.

She's still from Minnesota. Rock on Minnesota girls!

holding my breath

Wyatt keeps asking to hear more: "(Re)memba, memba when Papa threw soda in your face? He didn't want your face blue".

Yes, sweet three year old of mine. I remember* when I was little, probably about your age, when my father scooped me up in his arms and threw his Coke (and, I imagine, whiskey though that part didn't make it into the baby book) into my plump little face to stop me from holding my breath; holding it until I turned a pale blue and on occasion, passed out.

*I use the word 'remember' loosely because I only think I remember it, because it was written down in my baby book and passed down in stories to me from my parents. My baby book contained a Polaroid from the hospital, a clipping of my hair, some notes from the first weeks of life and this story; the one about me being spoiled rotten about not getting my way, so much that I held my breath. I guess that's the kind of baby book you get being the third child, slightly better than my younger sister's baby book, which she decided to fill out herself. True story - her little handwriting is all over that book, poor kid.

I digress.

So, now I sit here wondering, waiting, what kind of repercussions am I going to have for telling this story to my children? Is Wu going to start practicing holding his breath so I can freak out and schedule a MRI to confirm that this just isn't a form (albeit persuasive form) of temper tantrums just like my parents did?


Am I the only idiot who shares stories like this with their kids?

Until then, I'm just holding my breath (and spending a lot of time in the McDonald's drive-thru ordering large Diet Cokes - thank you for bringing back the $1 sodas BTW, I love not having to get out of my car - and giving him sips of mine to stave off desires of having it thrown in his own face).

a thank you

Thank you to everyone who has been thinking and praying for us, this is such a cool community for that and it's amazing to have all these people in our lives to support us. I was read the ultrasound results this morning (finally) and "the cyst is no longer visible and any other signs of abnormalities are not noted".

Love that doctor jargon,

but it's all fabulous news that we hoped to hear.

Thank you again, for everything.

the one where I'm all sappy (mostly)

We were at dinner on Saturday night (because, like I said, I didn't cook because it was part of my being lazy Mother's day weekend) when Henry handed me his card he made in school. Honestly, my first reaction: '$hit, it's in Chinese, not only can I not read it, he'll probably not be able to remember what it means.' I know, bad mother... but to my wonderful surprise, he read it and then translated for me:


Very, very loosely translated:

Happy Mother's Day

Mama, Mama
You are the sky,
I am the clouds.
You are the sun,
I am the grass.
You are the forest,
I am the bird.
Watch the bird fly away,
think of me.

Whoever thinks Chinese isn't one of the romantic languages just plain crazy, because how can even a non-pregnant person not get a little teary eyed at that?

*

And since I'm being all sappy and talking about being pregnant, can I ask for a few prayers? Some of you know, some of you don't, our baby has a 3mm cyst on her brain. The cyst isn't the issue, it's that the cyst a soft marker for something else being wrong with her like Trisomy 18, like Edwards Syndrome, like being born stillborn.

Today is the ultrasound to look more closely at the baby to see if there are any other indicators, because as of the last ultrasound, everything else was great. I believe in prayer, if you can, just say a quick one for her to make sure that all is OK.

Now continue on to someone else's blog that will probably be a heck of a lot funnier.

Sap out.

WW - a glimpse into the future

A glimpse into the future... he just *might* gain a tie and a few pens in his pockets (because he's cool like that), but please don't let him outgrow those dimples.

things could have been different

And what did I do for Mother's Day that would make me feel so special, make me feel so appreciated for all the hard work that I do ever single day of the year? I let my husband race a marathon 50 mile mountain bike race, that's what. Where I got the special privilege of getting up at 6 in the morning, packing up the snack and DVDs for the car and the extra special treat of getting to wake my kids up a hour earlier than they are use to for a car trip.

Added bonus, I got to drop my husband off at 9am in a foreign town to make a special day just me, the kids* and my GPS telling me where the nearest Perkins was (since that's the only thing open on Sunday mornings and word to the wise, Mother's Day is a popular day for eating at Perkins, get there early.)

So after Perkins, we headed to the movie theater to grab tickets and a large root beer to share (because why not add to the carb-lovers breakfast we just had of hash browns, mammoth muffins and pancakes). I stood behind the counter waiting for the high schooler, who was obviously excited to be there, to finally ask me 'what I wanted?'.

That's when I noticed it, the cardboard sign for beers of draft AT THE FREAKIN' MOVIE THEATER!

This could have been life changing.

Can you imagine how much better a first date would have gone if you would have been able to get a little tipsy in the comforts of a dark movie theater with the almost stranger you now decided to share a tub of popcorn with?

Things could have been different.

Many, many a first dates could have gone much better.

Maybe gone so well that I wouldn't be left by myself, pregnant with my two boys, in a foreign town to entertain them for the entire day, on Mother's Day.

I tease.

I promise, I wouldn't want it any other way.


(Just remember this post, dear husband, when Mother's Day rolls around again next year.)

* I make it sound worse than it was. I used this race as an excuse to be lazy the entire weekend and soak this Mother's Day thing up for all that it was worth.

The Razor Scooter giveaway is over tomorrow, enter if you want a chance to win here.

goodie bag

Definition: a bag containing candy, small toys, or other gifts given to party-goers or attendees of an event; also written goodie bag

also can referred to as:

'Oh, GOODY! I have more junk to throw in the trash BAG when the kids aren't looking'.

At the defense of the parents, (who I'm pretty sure don't know about my blog, but let's just cover the bases) they didn't put together these bags, they were part of the 'let us do everything for you' package from here. Read: you can't bring in your own drinks, pizza, etc. so we can charge you an arm and a leg for ours.

Henry has another party there tomorrow night.

Can you feel my excitement?

Spring's here, hand me my Razor- a giveaway

One of the first signs of spring for me is when my son asks to 'ride his scooter on the sidewalk'. I take that back, he usually asks in the dead of winter, but spring marks when I can finally say 'Yes!'.

CSN Stores has offered to once again to host a giveaway. Free stuff for you guys, AWESOME! I headed over to check out the toys, the kitchen gadgets and of course, I've been drooling over their baby cribs and bedding because it's finally *not* a boy! (Sigh) I love virtual shopping.

Here's your own reminder of spring. I'm giving away (1) The original kick scooter. The Razor A Scooter is the 2000 Toy of the Year Winner. The A Kick Scooter is constructed from aircraft-grade aluminum allowing for lightweight travel on the go with uncompromised durability. Its patented rear fender brake and folding mechanism give you all the necessary functions to zoom around while being safe. With no assembly required, just unfold this scooter right from the box to let the fun begin! Even my just-turned-3 year old loves to ride his scooter. In fact, he got his own one for his birthday, so he and Henry can race together (and I can avoid any fights over who's turn it is).

So, you know the rules: comment for (1) entry, comment that you follow me for a (2nd) entry and comment that you tweeted about this bad boy for a (3rd) entry.

And yes, I know that I need my actual *razor* handed to me come spring too; it can be hairy up here in Minnesota.

Good luck~

cervical rest, good for what ails ya

Dear Cervix,

I don't know what the heck you are thinking, but crapping out on me isn't the best thing in the world right now. Being called 'friable' doesn't make me feel sexy or does it make me sound young. I mean, come on, this is just my fourth pregnancy, it's not my 19th like some other person we all know and I'm pretty sure with the rate that children are popping out of her, Jim Bob isn't getting use to the wife being on cervical rest.

So what's your problem?

It's not really fun calling my midwife at 1 am in the morning. It's not cool, her giving me the impression, that if I didn't have other kids sleeping, she would have sent me to the emergency room right then and there.

But, whatever. You've seem to have started doing your job again, thank you. We are back to doing all of the normal stuff we use to do together (except for the one thing that got us here in the first place).

It's going to be a long summer.



Please, try to keep up the good work.
Sincerely,
Me, Anti-Supermom