Roses! After two years of daily pruning sessions, my roses are producing beautiful and scented flowers. I can't wait to add more colors but for now, I'm thrilled with what I 'm seeing.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

About six months ago, I had the bright idea of buying Gun-Gun a brand, spanking new potty chair. When it came in the mail we all chanted and cheered about the magnificent piece of plastic ready to tackle Gunny's little cheekies. The little throne was placed in our bathroom and quickly became the host to Gunny's waterlogged Hotwheels and Taterbug's Barbies. He's occasionally park himself on the seat only to get up and quickly assure me that he had "pooh farted." I have no clue what that is but I'm guessing he was speaking of two year old air biscuits.

Until last weekend, I truly thought that Gun-Gun was going to go to his prom in a pair of Depends with a special apology note to his date. However, Heaven's pearly gates opened on Sunday morning, and a "golden" light emanated from our bathroom. With the promise of "shocolit" (chocolate) he sat his little butt down on his seat and peed...and peed...and peed a little more all over his hand and some of my bath rug. Yes, the kid has no aim but who cares! We've began the potty training process and I can quit buying stock in Kirkland diapers!

With our oldest two, potty training came pretty easy. Taterbug trained with two older girls and C-dub had the wrath of Taterbug should he choose to - Heaven forbid - wet or soil his diaper. I wasn't sure how my older two were going to take the whole potty training issue but they've needled themselves easily into the process and they've become little experts on making Gun-Gun pee. Why, you ask? Why would my children be interested if Gun-Gun used his potty chair rather than a diaper? It's the candy. When Gunny does his duty, he's rewarded. If the kids help Gunny, then they get rewarded as well.

This morning, Gun-Gun started doing the familiar "potty dance" in the living room. My eagle-eyed children noticed this and quickly hustled him into the bathroom. I walked in and through the bathroom door could hear this:

Taterbug: Now sit down, Gunny. Let's go potty!
Gun-Gun: OK Sissy. I pee! I pee!
C-dub: Oh man! He's not doin' it Sissy.
Taterbug: He'll do it, just turn on the faucet. Running water always makes me have to pee. The sink goes on and a few seconds go by.
Gun-Gun: I dun, Sissy, no pee pee.
Taterbug: Come on, Gunny!
C-dub: Yeah Gun. We want candy so you better pee!

I was starting to feel bad for the little guy and I really don't like him being subjected to water torture, and I decide to go in and rescue him. Just as I do I hear the toilet seat go up and Taterbug announces that she's, "Gonna show him how it's done.”

I start to open the door only to hear the sweet sounds of two of my little urinators doing their thing. The countless minutes of peer pressure and bladder harassing paid off and Gunny produced some liquid gold for his sibling’s candy enjoyment.

They each lined up and received their "schocolit" reward and Mommazilla took one as well - after all, the supervisor needs to get paid.

I don't really consider his potty training to be in full force because honestly, the only time he wants to use the potty is when he or his siblings want a piece of candy. Then he's forced back into the torture chamber until his little bladder produces at least a noticeable droplet. We've even had trouble with some counterfeit urine as C-dub has an incredible sweet tooth and is known for "accidentally" spillin' a little water in the potty chair and claiming that Gun-Gun did his thing, re-diapered himself, and then put his pants back on. Right.....

I hope the process eventually goes into full force and poor Gunny doesn’t sustain too much damage to his modesty or his urethra.

Posted by Mommazilla at 01:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I love the combination of chocolate and peanut butter - add even more crunchy goodness into it and you'll have me swooning. I had this recipe forwarded to me and I'm going to give it a try tomorrow. In the meanwhile, I thought I'd share:

Puppy Chow (also known as "Monkey Crunch")

12 oz. bag of chocolate chips
1 cup of peanut butter
1 stick of butter (yes, use the real stuff)
Large box of Crispix or Chex cereal
2 1/2 cups of confectioner's sugar

You can add anything else you'd like but just remember the mixure may be warm and things may melt and not be so scrumptious.

Place the chocolate chips, peanut butter, and butter in a microwave safe bowl. Microwave them until they are melted and then stir to combine. Pour this liquidy gold mixture over the cereal and coat well. In a large paper bag, put in the confectioner's sugar and add coated cereal. Shake well and pour onto waxed paper. Eat and enjoy!

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

The doctors still haven't figured out what's going on with my dad but I think he's doing better. He has this sense of peacefulness that was brought back by the assurance that he was cancer-free. It's so strange how a diagnosis of a terminal illness can put your life into one crazy frenzy - when in actuality, you should be slowing down and enjoying the little things.

He's becoming sort of a medical marvel in that his body is just not acting like it should. I told him that it's his claim to fame and if the doctors write anything about him, he should demand a few copies to autograph for his beloved fans. He just shakes his head when I poke fun at him. I think he's come to expect nothing less from me.

In case your wondering, yes - that is dirt and food on Gun-Gun's face. The kid prefers dirt baths to water and we oblige him by doing weekly peels of the dirt layers. It's a tried and true remedy for stinky little boys.

Posted by Mommazilla at 06:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

As sophisticated as I consider myself to be, as of last week, I'd had yet to partake amongst a good 'ole tractor pull. When I saw that Redwood Acres was hosting one during fair time, I decide that it was the time to embrace my redneck roots and take my family.

Before we even made it to the "pull" I had a million things buzzing around my head - primarily, what does one wear to such an event? I opened my closet and immediately pulled out my freshly ironed pair of daisy dukes with matching red flannel tank top. For just a moment, they whispered to me, whitetrash princess, but I ignored my wish to be royalty and I promptly put on several layers of warm clothing - the princess in me would have to wait.

When we got there, we met up with some friends who thankfully, were more prepared than Hubby or I, as they had a steady supply of earplugs for our kiddos. Who'd a thunk that a tractor pull could be that loud? I had no clue that some of this "rigs" had helicopter engines and other loud pieces of ear shattering exhausts. Sounds like some liquored up rich guys had too much time on their hands...

After sitting there for about 15 minutes and getting asked a bazillion times, "When's it gonna start?" and "Are we still gonna ride dah rides?" I hosted an impromptu interview with each of my kiddos, asking them what they were most looking forward to:

Taterbug:

I'm not really looking forward to any of it. I just came for the rides. But a pink truck would be nice.

C-dub

I'm weally excited. I want to see lots of twucks and fast stuff. And I wanna hotdog with lotsa ketchup. And maybe some nachos. A soda might be a good idea too, right Momma?

Gun-Gun

Wanna see twuckies! Wanna see twuckies! Wight now, Momma!

When the show finally began, my boys were enthralled:

Taterbug, on the other hand, found herself a little bored and discovered that she preferred blocking out the noise by using smellavision:

We saw lots of really neat trucks and other "rigs" - because frankly, I have no idea what you would call these things:

And believe it or not, this is a little corvette:

We also discovered the reason behind global warming and they assured us it was entirely normal:

At one point, Taterbug informed me that it wasn't too bad:

And after about the hundreth hopped up diesel truck, C-dub proclaimed that he was now ready to ride the rides:

It was a fun night even though we tortured the kiddos by making them wait until all the trucks had gone and done their thing. I think that next year, Taterbug and I will leave the truck show for the boys and we'll concentrate on the gourmet carnival food and massage booth.

Posted by Mommazilla at 02:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Here's a few pics from our fun night at the fair. If you haven't stopped by, it's well worth the trip. And the pink popcorn was perfect.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

I was going to wait until this weekend to introduce the ducklings to their first bath, but they discovered their water dish on their own and were going to town.

I first experimented with a rubber and plastic shallow lid not knowing if they'd like that much water at one setting. The ducklings loved it and would use the lid like a slip and slide and splash all the water out. Since I had a couple of extra pie plates handy, I decided to donate one for the duckling bath since it's low sides and shallow depth would make for an excellent wading pool.

Our guess was right and they made such a huge mess splashing and diving into the water. It was so fun to watch them play and learn how to "fish" for the food (and poop!) particles they left in the water. Here are some shots from today's first bath:

The below duckling was the smallest of the three. She/he is now the same size as the bigger two. It's amazing how fast they grow!

After a hard day of bathing and playing, I left them alone with their Penguin Webkinz Momma. It was a good day had by all.

Posted by Mommazilla at 03:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Can you smell that? It's the wafting odor of corndogs, popcorn, cotton candy, livestock, diesel, and a hint of vomit. Where in the world would you find this sort of delectable odor other than...dun, dun, duhhhhhhh.....the Redwood Acres Fair!

Fair time is a great way to spend some time with family, friends, and your favorite carnie person. It's also a great way to get rid of money - and fast. Here's what my paycheck is going towards:

Two Adults Admission: 2 X $10 = $20
Three Kids Admission: 3 X $5 = $15
Truck Pull Admission: 5 X $5 = $25
Two Carnival Ride Passes: $50
Food (5 corndogs - $3 a piece, 2 sodas and 3 waters - $2 a piece, 2 cotton candy - $3 a piece, 1 candy apple for Grandma D - $3): $34

Grand Total: $144 - for one fantabulous night!

Yes, I'm bitching and yes, I don't have to go, but to me, fair time is a tradition for my family and once we're there, we thoroughly enjoy ourselves. Plus, due to conflicting work schedules and life in general, it's really nice when we can all get together as a family and do something - even if it's sharing our time with 1,000 other fairgoers and a handful of toothless carnies.

Personally, my favorite thing at the fair is the food. Nothing tastes as good as a coupla corndogs from one of those brightly lit food trailers. I'm sure the sophisticated flavor comes from the 100 year old grease combined with a little grime from the person serving it (no - not all the food trailers are grimy - only about 99% of them), but whatever the case, it just tastes like summer.

I don't count calories during fair time because honestly, you're doing so much walking and people watching that you're actually burning calories so those little corndogs will actually benefit you. Add in an icy cold soda and the amount of energy it takes to heat your body back might find you loosing ounces off the scale. I know that Grandma D swears to have lost a pound and a half last year due to her consumption of two candy apples during fair week. The hard work required to break through that tough outer candy shell is phenomenonal - especially if the apple underneath is appropriately crispy. And don't forget, it's a fruit. Weight Watchers, eat your heart out.

While I do partake amongst the gourmet offerings of the fair, I do not participate in the carnival rides. I had a terrible experience with the Tilt 'O Whirl when I was 10 years old...corn dogs, cotton candy, five giggly friends, and an insanely spinning piece of metal guaranteed a vomit comet to be had by all. I learned two things that day; (1) why you shouldn't cuff your jeans if you anticipate throwing up and (2) a guaranteed way to lose the respect of your friends and innocent bystanders who saw you wretching at your finest.

One last thing I love to do at the fair is take a gander at the exhibits. I once saw a chicken lay an egg at the fair, and I was so impressed that I've now become a chicken connoisseur. I tend to stay away from the area of the fruits and dressed veggies (I have issues with Mr. Potato Head), but I do love me some livestock. The smell of manure and the exercise you get from dodging cow patties in the dairy barn, is all too inviting. But, my favorite livestock exhibit is the sheep. I once had a ewe (that's a female sheep) named Dorito because she loved Cool Ranch Doritos. Her live-in boyfriend (a ram - or a male sheep) was named Budweiser because of his fondness of water, hops and barley. Don't ask me how we discovered this...

Enough about me...What's your favorite fair time memory? Are you going to the fair? Most importantly, tell me about a fair experience (primarily food) that I need to try. And don't forget, Redwood Acres Fair...

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (11)

I'm so glad yesterday is done and over with. I can't say that I'd ever want to hatch call ducks again. They're absolutely adorable but such a pain in the butt to deal with during the incubating and hatching process.

Out of the five eggs, we have three healthy ducklings. The two that passed had a very difficult time hatching and I eventually had to help them out. I explained to he kids that I didn't think they were going to make it and they were able to say their goodbyes before the little fellows passed on. We're going to have a ducky funeral in our orchard tonight.

The remaining three ducklings are doing great and have really started taking on a personality of their own. As you can can in the photo, I've placed a stuffed penguin in the cage. No, I'm not trying to confuse them, but after having raised chicks, I know that sometimes the little ones like having the stuffed animal there for extra warmth and protection. As long as they don't start asking to go to Antartica, I think we'll be safe!

They get their first swimming lesson this weekend. They've already discovered that their watering dish is big enough for a quick dip!

The smallest (and my favorite) duckling:

Posted by Mommazilla at 11:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Check here if you did.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Two down, three to go. The call ducks look awesome and are settling into an eggless life :-).

Posted by Mommazilla at 01:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Well, sorta. The call duck eggs have started hatching and we are so excited! We candled the hatching silkie eggs last night and unfortunatey, three of the four eggs did not make it. I put the remaining egg in with the call duck eggs in the hopes that the higher humidity might soften the shell a bit, making for easier hatching. I'm not so convinced that this little chickie fella is gonna make it.

It's crazy how one night the little chicks are moving like crazy and then the next night, they've passed on. After having hatched several batches of eggs, I've come to expect lots of death because it's a sad part of the hatching process. No one can take the place of a momma duck or a little broody hen - not even three anxious kids and a hovering Mommazilla.

The other four call duck eggs have not starting "pipping" but you can see the eggs moving and hear soft chirping - both excellent signs of an impending hatch. If all goes well, we'll have five quackers by morning and lots more pictures to come :-).

Posted by Mommazilla at 01:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

** I'm feeling a little under the weather so rather than come completely out of my Sudafed induced stupor to create something new, I'm re-publishing one of my older blogs. It's probably one of my most favorite gross out stories of all time. You've been warned :-) **

I love my leather couches. Affordable, super comfy, and most importantly, easy to clean; they are (and continue to be) a perfect fit in our household. The kids also love these couches for many reasons other than the ones I previously mentioned (i.e.: They make awesome farting sounds when you glide stinky feet across the cushions and you can catch major air jumping from the first to third couch cushion and then back to the middle love seat cushion). They are also a direct representation of adulthood as they were the first "grown up" purchases hubby and I made as adults. They replaced the heavy wood framed couches with the gorgeous black floral satin cushions (think Brady Bunch crossed with John Holmes and you'll get the fashion flavor of these things) given to us by well-meaning in laws. Gotta love hand-me-downs. But I digress, let's get back to the subject of my pride and joy leather couches.

A few months back, I allowed Taterbug and C-Dub to have freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on my prized couches. Our carpeting is also fairly new (and wayyyy too light for the presence of little people) so it's a real treat to eat anything in the living room, especially on mommy's prized furniture. It was a typical night and as usual, both kids were naked after hosting their own karate/kick boxing/slap fighting living room tournament (it was a draw by the way, due to both kids ending up crying at just about the same time and accidentally wiping out their little brother). Besides being all riled up from the tournament, they were both completely covered with chocolate (mixed in with a little cookie and milk for good measure). After a good bath with lots of soap and loofah scrubbing, they were off to bed. Just prior to dream time, I praised them for doing so well eating on the couches.

When I awoke the next morning, I walked into the living room and began to admire my beautiful couches in the beaming morning light. As I conducted my daily inspection, I could clearly see two dried brown streaks on the cushions of the larger couch. I immediately did the mommy thing and licked my pointer finger in an effort to wipe the cushion off. That stubborn "chocolate" stain just wasn't coming off. So, I continued to do the mommy thing and licked my middle finger in an effort to add more mommy-cleaner (spit) to the cushion. This helped a little but I still had more to go. So, I proceeded to add more cleaner (spit) by licking my ring finger and as I did, I caught a whiff of something that certainly didn't smell like chocolate. As I suddenly came to the realization of what I was actually cleaning, my daughter walks out, sees what I'm doing and says, "I told you C-Dub had a dirty butt last night, mom, he doesn't wipe very good." This immediately brought on a session of dry heaving and gagging, only to be soothed by the brushing of my teeth with my very effective Oral B electric toothbrush and a good dosing of Listerine (some swallowed for the medicinal qualities).

The moral of my story is simple. Love your furniture but don't love your furniture. No inanimate object is worth the taste of a five year old's stinky butt on your tongue.

Posted by Mommazilla at 02:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

** One more re-post for ya. Once I find my nose that ran away with my youth, I promise to post something absolutely inspiring and uber creative. Well, don't get your hopes up too high - it'll probably be about chickens. **

He saw her as soon as she pulled into the driveway, admiring how the sun played off of her short blond hair and cast a golden hue on her cherubic face. He had first met her a few months back, exchanging nothing but quick sordid glances that appeared to leave both parties in a state of attraction. He knew he loved her from the moment he saw her and he could only imagine that she returned the feelings he held so strongly. Yes, they were from different worlds, opposite ends of the spectrum, but he knew that they could make it work with a little determination and a great deal of passion.

She saw him watching, leering if you will, and she immediately put up her guard. She didn't trust this fellow nor did she return the sentiment she could see oozing from his eyes. As she got out of her car he immediately approached her, keeping his distance all the while, but steadily holding her gaze with his caramel colored eyes. She slowly approached the house, as to not break his searing gaze nor anger him by appearing disinterested. He followed her, closely, and she could feel his hot breath on backs of her bare legs. She turned around to look at him, giving him a silent warning to hold his distance. She was a woman to be reckoned with and he needed to know this.

He saw her glance back at him and this just excited him more. She was only playing hard to get and he was sick of playing these mind games with her. He had always been well loved amongst the females and this time surely was no different. He knew that he needed to make his move and with one swift jump he grabbed her from behind, breathing hotly in her ear. She immediately reached back to push him away, denying the burning lust that he felt so strongly for her.

As she broke into a sprint towards the front door, he chased her, shrieking for her to stop and to give into the feelings she surely had for him. She continued to run, clutching the back of her right thigh and crying out in pain. He could see blood streaming down her leg and he suddenly realized that in his urgent yearning, he had accidentally injured his lover's leg. The site of her blood strangely exited him and urged him on even more in his quest for her favor. The chase continued for another few moments until she breeched the threshold of the house and promptly slammed the door in her suitor's face. He sat there for a moment, completely shocked at the rejection she had presented him with. He knew that she was someone who could be the mother of his children; the woman of his dreams; how could she not realize that?

He sat there for a few moments, silently listening to her screaming and endless profanities that he assumed were directed towards him. He would wait and hope that she would soon calm down and understand how important his longing was for her. Time was on his side and she would learn to love him back in time.

She looked out onto the front porch and saw the rooster still sitting there, perched on the ledge like an evil gargoyle. He was staring in the window piercing her with his beady little eyes, still full of lust. Her thigh was throbbing from where his spurs had barbed her and she calculated that she might need a few stitches if not a tetanus shot. She was beyond angry and swore vengeance against that damn rooster who took great pleasure in chasing her whenever she stopped by to visit her beloved grandchildren. No more could this rooster rule the driveway and residence, causing grief to her and any other person who chose to walk up the driveway. She had a twenty two caliber solution to the horny rooster problem and she just needed nap time in order to enact her plan.

Once the kids were settled snug in their beds, she slowly crept outside clutching the grips of the gun. The rooster, perked up by her presence, immediately began to do a throaty crow, in an attempt to impress his temptress. He began to slowly walk towards her, displaying his regal feathers as he knew that she was surely impressed with his handsome physique. As he approached her, she tightly squeezed the grip of the gun in her sweaty palms. The pressure on the trigger built up and was released in a spray of pure, unfiltered sulfur smelling well water that blasted him in the face and body. He quickly drew back, in an attempt to breathe through the pounding of water. Realizing that a hasty retreat would more than likely be the only way to save his life from a watery grave, he flew across the yard to the safety of the orchard.

It was that moment when their relationship ended. He realized that the love he had for her was one-side and would never to be returned. His heart ached for her but he knew that he had to go on. There were more ladies in the barnyard but none that had the legs that Grandma D had, nor the cougar qualities that he craved in such an attractive hen.

This sad story of impossible love is a true one; lived out in our barnyard. Our heroine was ultimately faced with a tetanus shot, a butterfly bandage of her wound, and a large doctor's office copay. Our hero later met his fate with a dose of lead poisoning as he tried to molest the mail lady, UPS driver and Schwan’s guy. He had so much love to give but just didn't know how to give it. Rest in peace horny rooster.

Posted by Mommazilla at 02:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Have you seen this story? I can't even wrap my mind around the idea of carrying and delivering over 23 pounds of baby. Thank God for c-sections!

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Can't you tell by her tongue? This is Roxanne and she is a frisky little boxer belonging to one of my good friends. Her "mom" and I took a walk through the park last week and then she posed for glamor shots. Gotta love a doggie smile on a sunny day.

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Who'd a thunk it? A pregnancy pact between 17 high school girls at Gloucester High School (1,200 students) in Gloucester, Massachusetts. Evidently school officials became a little suspicious when numerous girls started showing up at the free clinic asking for pregnancy tests and then becoming upset when they found out they were not pregnant.

I read through a few online articles that said these girls had wanted to get pregnant and raise their children together. Many of them stated that by having a baby, they could finally have something that would love them unconditionally. I wonder if they'll feel that way at 3AM feedings or during their first bout of colic and gas? Sure, babies are adorable, but not when they're your screaming bundle of joy at the age of 15 or 16. Heck, I'm in my early 30's and sometimes I feel like I can't even handle it.

I understand that accidents sometimes happen and some teen parents do a wonderful job. I hardly think that these 17 teenagers will make parent of the year with the preconceived notions they have about parenthood. From what I read, the girls share a mutual excitement for the upcoming baby showers and attention they are receiving by being pregnant, but has anyone explained Postpartum Depression? Or, how about the wild changes and stretch marks their once svelte body will receive? It's just really sad and I'm afraid they'll have to learn life's lessons the hard way. I don't know about you, but I have a chastity belt on order from Amazon.com. I just hope Taterbug finds enough love at home to realize that a bouncing baby can't replace that.

On a side note, Jamie Lynn Spears gave birth to a baby girl Thursday morning.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I don't consider myself to be a girly girl, but I do love my make-up. Up until last year, I had never really found a make-up that I really liked and considered buying over and over again. I'd tried tradional concealers and foundations, but my face was so oily that everything looked gooey by the end of the day. Plus, I had super sensitive eyelids and some eyeshadow formulations made me peel like an orange. My mom suggested that I try bareMinerals and ever since then, I've been hooked. It's all powder based but does so well with my oily skin and cavernous pores, TMI - I know! The stuff is just awesome and I'm getting ready to re-order for the third time.

Bare Escentuals (which sells bareMinerals) currently has a "Friends and Family" sale going from June 19th to June 22nd. If you use coupon code FRIEND8, you'll receive 20% off your total purchase, plus free shipping on orders over $75.

The stuff runs on the pricey side but will last you a really long time. Good luck and happy shopping!

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

I have no freakin' clue as to an answer for this ageless riddle, but what I do know is that C-dub wants to cut down a tree something fierce, after having become addicted to the History Channel's "Ax Men." Every day I'm asked, "Mom, do you weally think there's a twee fallin' somewhere?" or "Mom, how many twees do yah think fell down taday?" My reply is the same, "I dunno C-dub. Ask your dad. Or better yet, ask Grandpa D or Papa Tom. Grandpas know everything." I knew that I could only put him off for so long as the frustration was slowly mounting in his little body.

I figured his love for this show would slowly go away as it was a cycle I had seen before with other shows. We went through the whole ocean/fishing/net every animal in the yard with "Deadliest Catch" and then we had the checking the rat trips with dad because of "The Verminators." I dreaded the idea that he might try an episode of "Dirty Jobs" because they seemed to be a tad bit more daunting for a five year old.

I didn't realize the intensity that C-dub had for this show until I saw him in action with Hubby. Hubby was in the backyard splitting a load of madrone and oak and C-dub was out "yarding logs" for dad. He had taken one of Hubby's ratcheting tie downs and told me that he was using it as his "yarder." He'd carefully wrap the tie down around a small log and then pull it to Hubby to cut up and split. When he was finished with the smaller logs, he proceeded to the split wood pile and continued to wrap his "yarder" around the pieces of firewood, dragging them around the yard until he was tired.

When he eventually made it into the house, he explained to me how he had been "logging" in the backyard and how he "definitely" needed a good dessert because of his strenuous workout. Over a bowl of vanilla ice cream and strawberry sauce, he explained to me that he was ready for his own ax and that he was going protect the family by getting rid of our "leaners." I later learned that "leaners" are the trees that hang precariously over forested areas and C-dub thinks we have several in our backyard. Who am I to argue with an expert?

No, C-dub did not get an ax but he did get to take a spin with the hacksaw on a piece of firewood but I think he was just as thrilled. C-dub may not know this, but our family has a strong history in the timber industry and his Great-Grandpa was a short little Irish whiskey drinkin' logger. I know he'd be proud to see C-dub's "logging" diligence.

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Well, after having poultry braxton hicks for the past week, I think we're gettin' ready to hatch. I just candled the five call ducks and saw little bills and lots of heartbeats. I also have four Silkie eggs (chickens) due tomorrow - that is if I counted correctly (my numbers just haven't been adding up so well lately!). Each of the Silkies looked great and I could see their little beaks pipping away at the interior membrane and shell. Hopefully by tomorrow afternoon, the demanding peeps and pitterpats of little three-toed chicks will be running rampant in my house. Woohoo!

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I recently discovered a super easy and delicious cake recipe that is too good not to share. If you love any sort of buttery cake and fruit concoction, this recipe is for you. Don't let the recipe name fool you because it doesn't exactly sound too appetizing (especially if you're around children for any length of time):

Pineapple Dump Cake

1 can of crushed pineapple (16 or 20 oz.)
1 can of cherry pie filling (this stuff is expensive!)
2 cubes of butter (yes, use the real stuff - it tastes so much better)
1 box of yellow cake mix
** You can also add coconut and pecans. My family prefers "girl" cakes so no "nuts" for us :-) **

Grease a 9X13 inch pan and preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Dump in the can of crushed pineapple, including the juice, and spread it evenly over the base of the pan. Then, pour the cherry pie filling over the top of the pineapple, also spreading it around evenly over the pineapple. Next, sprinkle the yellow cake mix over the top of the fruit, making sure to crunch up any big lumps. I guess if you wanted to exert even more energy you could sift it. Then, you'd actually be losing weight by making this recipe. Finally, cut the two cubes of butter into chunks and spread them out evenly over the top of the cake mix. Resist the urge to mix and just pop this lovely concoction into the oven for one hour. After it's done baking, cool and cut into your selective pieces. Remember, this recipe has a great deal of fruit in it, so in theory, it's very healthy and full of vitamins. You should not have too much guilt eating a piece or two, or perhaps even three or four - again, we're talking about healthy fruit here, do not deprive your body of natural goodness.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Today was the big move...Gun-Gun is no longer contained in a crib and C-dub now has a roommate. I won't bore you with specifics but it was a very long day with beds being taken apart and added, and a lot of vacuuming of unknown items stuck in the carpet. My poor Dyson got a heck of a work out and many Barbie shoes lost their lives.

As most parents know, it's really hard to get anything done with three kiddos' underfoot who are utterly amazed at what lies at the bottom of their toy box. For them, each box moved was like having Toys-r-Us throw up a little in their room. After a day of "Christmas in June," both Hubby and I were getting pretty frustrated by the end of the day. I don't know how many times we threatened to throw it all in the garbage only to hear, "Go ahead. We're tired of workin'." Geesh. If only real life could be so easy...

When we finally got done around 6ish (after starting around 11ish), I threw myself on Gun-Gun's bed and Taterbug took a snuggle spot right next to me.

Taterbug: Mom, we sure got a lot done today.
Mommazilla: Yep, we did. You guys worked sooooo hard! I then laughed and received a dirty look from Taterbug.
Taterbug: Are you being sarcastic, Mom?
Mommazilla: Why do you think Taters? Maybe I was, but just a little.
Taterbug: That's what I thought. Well, you and Daddy were just greatttt parents today. You didn't even yell at us to get goin'. She then gave me a big grin.
Mommazilla: Nice Taters, very nice.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

...let's hope it hatches. Babies are due this weekend. Keep your fingers crossed for a smooth and quick delivery.

Yes, I know, I originally had them due today but I finally took off my shoes and did the appropriate math only to realize I was off by four days. The little eggs are moving around quite a bit so I'm thinking they may be a little early.

Posted by Mommazilla at 03:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Do Not Feed The Trolls!

Do you know what a troll is? No, not the warty kind that eats little children and lives under bridges. I'm talking about internet trolls that lurk on bulletin boards and in comments sections, leaving anonymous words of wisdom for those blessed to have received them. Their comments are usually negative in nature and are an attempt to disrupt whatever posting they have encountered. Sometimes, the brave ones will give themselves a name; more often than not, they rely on "anonymous" as they don't have the cajones to identify themselves.

I consider myself so lucky in that I've picked up two little anonymous trolls recently based on the TS publishing one of my blogs in print. You can see all the gory details here.

The first troll seems to be intelligent or at least he/she has her thesaurus opened up when composing their sentence. Good for him/her.

The second troll, well, between all the "???" and "!!!", I really don't understand what point they are trying to express. Maybe I've made some teenage fans?

I welcome all comments - just don't expect me to publish them if they're overly negative or a personal attack against me or my family (which yes, I have received). I expect people to disagree with me on some things but mostly, I just expect people to laugh and say, "Hey! My kid does that too!" If you disagree with a particular topic then fine, disagree! But do so in a way that's constructive rather than playground antics. I provide points to ponder...a quick read with some goofy photos thrown in here and there.

I also moderate my blog in an attempt to keep it family friendly. The porn bots tend to be attracted to some of my titles so unless you need the Viagra or Cialis, you will not be weeding through these comments. Troll 1 & 2, I can forward you these comments should you find your prescription is running short.

This is a blog meant to be an online journal of some of the cool things I've experienced with my family. If that's not your cup of tea, then move on. Don't let the door hitcha where the good Lord splitcha. No one wants to hear from self-proclaimed Dr. Phil's who refuse to even identify themselves in a forum. I want credentials, not troublemakers.

If you'd like further information, here ya go:

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (11)

I don't consider myself to be a super religious person nor do I believe in any one particular belief. I tend to subscribe to a smorgasbord of religious substances based on a few classes I took in college and some personal advice from family and friends. Even as a child, we only went to church on Easter Sunday and that was so Dad could hide the Easter eggs in peace and Mom could get her yearly dose of church. Lame, I know.

I do, however, have my own beliefs and during recent times have found myself asking for favors from God. I actually felt pretty selfish doing so since I really haven’t upheld my part in going to church, reading the bible, and so on. I'd usually premise my prayers with a little introduction since He (or She, depending on what you believe) probably didn't have a clue as to who this strange person was, asking for things when she never even bothered to first establish a relationship. My prayers were usually rough going in nature because for one thing, I really don't know the etiquette of a good prayer so I'm sure I committed some sort of heavenly faux pas with some of the words I used.

Ultimately, my crude attempt at praying paid off in that I felt so much better after doing so. In my own way, I was doing all that I could physically, emotionally, and spiritually do for my dad. Plus, when I suggested to my oldest that she should pray when she felt sad, I didn’t feel like such a hypocrite. For me, praying was sort of a way to vent but at the same time a way to try and regain control over an uncontrollable situation.

Where am I going with this blog? Why am I rambling to you about my inner battles with religion and overall lack of relationship with God? This is why:

My dad does not have cancer.

Yep, what was Stage 4 last week is now benign; an “atypical” infection at most. Sure, he’s still sick but he’s not on cancer’s time-frame. The pathologist sliced and diced through five segments of his tumor and could not find one cancer cell. The doctors are not even sure these “tumors” are labeled correctly; they may just be severe inflammation. He has an additional lung biopsy scheduled for next week that will hopefully give us the exact cause of his illness. It’s a much more invasive procedure that will take a slice of his lung “pie” rather than just a taste.

I don’t really want to label this event as a “miracle” when in actuality, it was probably just a grave misdiagnosis. But, it feels so much better to just believe – even if it’s just for a moment. I found that my crude understanding of religion at least made my dad's illness a little more tolerable - believing in something rather than nothing gave me a sense of peace that I can't quite explain. I'm not going to say that my renewed sense of faith will last nor do I know where it will take me or my family, but I’m definitely not going to ignore it. Maybe it’s time for me to start cultivating a new relationship with God so that I’m no longer a stranger just making random requests.

Posted by Mommazilla at 05:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

Happy Father's Day to all the #1 dads out there!

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Everyone knows that you are not supposed to take advantage of people in fragile state because it's just wrong. I explained this to Uncle R but evidently, he thought it would be more fun to pull one over on our dear dad - because he had the perfect opportunity to. Plus, it's kind of up in the air how fragile 'ole dad is as of this point, so I'll let this one go.

My dad recently succumbed to technology and decided to get a cell phone. Concerned that he was sucking up too much memory, he mentioned to my brother that he'd been diligent in deleting all incoming and out going calls and messages. My brother told him this was a good idea because all the extra messages would make the phone much more "heavy" to pack.

My dad pondered this for a moment, visualizing whether or not he felt that his phone was "heavier" since he did have some undeleted messages. I heard he even pulled the phone out and did a little balancing act - but that's still up in the air based on who you talk to.

Uncle R kept it together for a few more minutes and then Dad finally realized he was joking when Uncle R started to crack a smile. Dad finally confessed that he hadn't noticed any change in weights no matter how many messages he had and thought that maybe he had a damaged phone. Uncle R received a much needed fatherly admonishment and I got the best part; a funny story to share with the world :-).

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

in the form of cake batter ice cream! I love Cold Stone Creamery - especially, their cake batter ice cream. If you've never been to a Cold Stone Creamery, try to go at least once in your life. The ice cream is homemade, chewy, and absolutely heaven in a cup. They have a huge marble slab where you can select items to mix in your ice cream. My personal favorite is chocolate ice cream with hot fudge, brownies, and chocolate chips. It's been proven to be a home remedy for PMS, just ask Hubby.

I've often wondered how they figured out to get that taste of cake batter into ice cream. It truly tastes like your licking out a vanilla cake bowl - undescribeable goodness! Since I gotz the internetz, I started my frantic search today for the secret of this recipe and I think I found it. Here's what we did:

Cake Batter Ice Cream

1 cup of whole milk
2 cups of heavy cream
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 tsp. of pure vanilla (remember, you can also take swigs to lighten up the process)
2/3 cup of cake mix (sift it to get out the lumps, and you can use more according to taste)

I had tons of heavy cream in the fridge so I chose to use three cups of heavy cream and veto the whole milk. After all, ice cream is not meant to be fat free, that's just un-American. I can't do that.

I mixed all the items together into a runny, creamy goodness, and then stuck it in my ice cream maker. If you want the cardio version, you can follow along on my previous recipe where you shake it up in a bag. I already worked my pecs the other day so I was ready to let the ice cream maker earn in it's place in the cupboard.

Please make sure to read and be aware of the ingredients on your cake mix. Cold Stone Creamery had to yank their cake batter ice cream last year due to Salmonella concerns. Evidently, their version contained some egg products and some cake mixes might have the same. My family lives life on the edge - we even east raw cookie dough for chriminy sakes, but some people might not be so daring. I don't want to be blamed for anyone's bloody farts or diarrhea, K?THXBAI.

If you have a great ice cream recipe, please share. I'm totally in the mood for ice cream and I'm looking for some tried and true recipes.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Our dear sweet C-dub is a very honest little boy - so much integrity that it tends to be a tad bit embarassing at times. Lately, he's been acutely aware of personal hygiene - not so much his, but that of others. I heard him comment to Hubby yesterday that he didn't appreciate the wafting smell of chips and salsa on his breath and he's also been quick to announce when Sissy's feet are starting to make him gag.

Tonight, he had the opportunity to visit with his best buddy and his family was having a birthday celebration for their grandma. When grandma left, she gave all the boys hugs, including little C-dub. As she hugged him, he told her:

"Oooh! Somebody's bweath stinks!"

Thanks goodness this is a great family with an excellent sense of humor. Grandma laughed and C-dub got a little embarassed realizing they were laughing at what he had said. Hubby later had a little chat with C-dub about the issue of honesty and then the concept of tact. I'm not sure how well it went but I guess we'll find out the next time someone has a case of butt breath ;-).

Awww...another untold joy of parenthood.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I love having a daughter. It's so much fun to live vicariously through her eight year old little body. I get to do all the fun things that a normal grown-up might not get to do, and just blame it on her. The Taterbug made me do it, I swear by it.

Today was one of those days when Taterbug needed a little lift. Since tomorrow's the last day of school, I caved in on the idea that she could have pink hair. We settled on coloring the tips of her hair so that it could easily be cut off for the next school year. She also talked me out of some blonde streaks but that's a whole 'nother story.

Let me just say, I'm now the world's coolest mom (so she says) and she's totally rockin' the pink look. Secretly, I wish I could do the same thing to my own hair but I don't think it would look as cute on a mom of three as it does to a cherubic little blonde. And Taterbug informed me that it would be "totally uncool" should I decide to do the same. She knows fashion so I'm leaving my discretion up to her.

Here's my little rockstar:

And one more to show she's still my kid:

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I slept like crap last night and no, it wasn't just because I helped the Wine Fairy do her bidding, although I'm sure it was more than likely part of the problem. As I posted before, my dad had his second biopsy scheduled for today and the possibility of finally identifying his cancer was overwhelming. The anxiety and worry I felt kept me occupied and awake until the wee hours of the morning.

When I finally did get to sleep, the morning arrived far too soon and Hubby and Gun-Gun were yelling at me to "wakeded up, Momma!" I quickly showered and got dressed; keeping in mind what the potential outcomes of the appointment could be, based on an additional CT scan. If the tumors had grown then the biopsy would be conducted and the cancer hopefully identified; if nothing changed, then the biopsy would be cancelled and other ideas would be explored (such as a bad infection causing severe inflammation). I knew it was going to be the longest 20 minute ride of my life.

I called my mom on the way, and she informed me that they had gotten my dad in early for the scan - which I thought was practically a miracle since nothing had gone our way so far. When we finally arrived at the hospital, my mom found us in the waiting room. She looked like she had been crying and she told me that they were going ahead with the biopsy. I was expecting this but I still felt crushed. I had hoped and prayed that those damn tumors had somehow miraculously disappeared but hearing they hadn't was still such a letdown. I gave my mom a hug and a pat on the back, sweet talking her with the promise of cafeteria coffee and stale donuts. We partook amongst the coffee and had a nice family chat awaiting my dad's test.

My mom stumbled across my dad being wheeled out of the operating room, after a long one and a half hours. He looked great and was talkative with the nurse who was wheeling him back to recovery. We followed them back to the room and spoke briefly with the nurse who had been present during the procedure. She was extremely friendly and sympathetic to our plight. She summed the success of the procedure up in a sentence:

We tried as hard as we could to prove you had cancer, but we just couldn't do it today.

The doctor had skillfully guided needles into the largest of the tumors, shaped ironically like a dumb bell. He removed two sections and forwarded them to pathology who had then demanded several more, as they were only seeing fibrous tissue in the samples being sent up. A total of five samples were submitted and none of them came back as obviously being cancerous. The pathologist will continue to hack up and dissect the samples, looking for any clues as to their origin or potential for cancer.

To top it all off, the tumors had not grown and if anything had possibly shrunk down just a little. The biopsy had still been conducted because they were suspicious enough to warrant some digging.

I didn't know whether or not to laugh or cry. Last week, he'd been told he was in Stage 4 of a fast-moving cancer and we could seek treatment, but the outcome would be the same. This week, he's being told he might not even have cancer and that they'd more than likely watch him and re-scan in six months. Six months! He had been given some of his future back!

Dad tends to be the pessimist of the family and quickly reminded me to not get my hopes up because the pathologist might still find something lurking in the samples. Plus, we still don't know what he has and we can't quite completely dismiss the previously named elephant in the closet. Could his secret illness be worse than cancer? If it's an infection that's been simmering this long, what sort of damage has it done? The results today have led to so many more questions. Again, we'll have to hurry up and wait.

We're all living on a high right now and I'm allowing myself to enjoy it. I've explained to my dad that we've had nothing but six weeks of bad news; we deserve to have at last two days of positivity before the inevitable bout of more frustration hits. We will be floating on cotton candy clouds and admiring the gumdrops and butterflies floating by because we deserve a few days of happiness. My dad deserves this much.

It was refreshing to have both doctors and nurses that were friendly and accommodating to both my dad and our family. It has slowly renewed some of my faith in our medical system - at least in the area of the bedside manner.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (11)

My daughter's second grade class had an end of the year barbeque today, and nature graced us with gorgeous sun and minimal wind. The second graders were, well, second graders, lots of whining, screaming and all around good, grubby fingered fun. They did sack races, played volleyball, and had an egg toss - which, I have to admit, was my favorite part since several children (excluding my own) got creamed with cackleberry juice.

The best thing to come out of it was our homemade ice cream. I had heard about this recipe but seeing it in action has really inspired me for future camping trips. Rather then tell you how to make it, let me show you:

And do some shakin'!

Don't shake too hard!

Shake with a friend!

Have your dad do some shakin'!

Yummy goodness in a bag.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)