Lobsters! Crap. I mean Liebsters!

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So Liebster Blog Awards… more of an honor than anything. Not actually an award, but more of the thoughtful gesture to be ‘nomintated’ by a fellow blogger (thanks, Ellen @ Mcsisters!), and once you accept the nomination you answer the questions of the NSA  their choosing, tag 3-5 of your favorite bloggers and round and round she goes. 🙂

Here are the 5 questions Ellen chose, I will answer, then tag some of my friends and pick questions of my own!:

Where is the farthest you have ever traveled?

Well, Rome. I went for World Youth Day in 2000. It was really, really hot when we were there. Like 109. I had the best meal of my life in Assisi and the campout at Tor Vergata was the first ( and almost last time…aside from WYD 2002) that I ever slept in a sleeping bag on the ground. Ever. I wish I could have experienced more than I did. Mainly, I wish I was more mature to have been soaking up the scenery and the sights instead of swooning over getting a lucky chance to sit squished on the Metro next to my crush. Hey, I was 15.  (btw heheheh thanks Mom for sending me!) I did however get the tannest I have ever been in my life, Italy showed me how dark my skin is actually supposed to be! That was a great month… looking like a mocha latte for a few weeks.

Have you ever won anything? If so, what did you win?

The only thing I’ve ever won is random bets with my husband over things like whether or not we send our extra trash to the moon (we do not) and whether or not Mister Rogers wears those sweaters to cover up all his Navy tattoos (also false). Really intellectual  post-dinner chats we have. Oh, I guess I could count the time in high school that I “won” 1st place in the CYO talent show for signing “A Boy Like That” from West Side Story…..but I try not to ever count that as a fair win because there were only about 5 contestants, and they were all awful and uncoordinated, so for my partner and I to get up on stage, dressed for the part, signing a duet with accompaniment…we were the only ones who apparently rehearsed…. they kind of had to give us 1st place. I do so like that song though, and I got to be saucy Aunt Anita…it’s not my hope but those endless rehearsals of ” a boy like that will give you trouble…”  leave me fully prepped and kind of stoked to belt it out to my daughter should the occasion ever arise.

Who is your favorite saint and why?

Saint Philomena! Why? First of all she is the only saint canonized on her intercession alone. Which is pretty phenomenal! Also, she pursued the heck out of me. I could do an entire post just on Philomena. I probably should. The long and the short of it: She chose me for confirmation, so   I chose her.  Camera Guy visited her shrine in Italy when we were courting, and promised to honor her at our wedding if we married. I promised her I’d name my first daughter after her… we did honor her and we did name our daughter after her. And she helps me constantly and immediately on hundreds of occasions…. she is my dearest heavenly companion…. ok I have to write a post on the wonders she has worked in my life because that’s what she’s known for: powerful with God and a Wonder-Worker!

What is the most dominant color in your wardrobe?

As I considered this I got embarrassed. It’s actually black. Huh, I didn’t realize how much black I own. I think I keep opting for black because it goes with everything. Well, duh, and it especially goes with everything when everything is black. Oh geez louise this makes me sound depressed but in my defense I think it’s important to stick with earth tones and real colors that exsist in nature. No funky colors. It’s more classy and every picture I see of the celebs shows them typically in some basic color like black, white or gray. So black it is. I do have colorful pieces of jewelry and scarfs for a pop of color. Also colorful shoes. I like to think that Stacey and Clinton would approve……

What has made you crack a smile today?

Knowing that tonight is Mom’s Night Out! We’re getting tapas!


Ok now it’s my turn to pass the Liebster Award nomination onto Susie, Kelly, and Sarah!

and this is what we really want to know:

What are you wearing at this very moment?

What the oldest thing you have in your fridge? When did it expire?

If you could meet any celebrity, who would it be and why?

Random something that makes you happy?






Get Real

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Sometimes I follow these Pinterest links to these super-housewifey-June-Cleaver-ish blogs. I don’t know about you but they depress me. Well, at least they used to, until I started getting real with myself. I don’t see reality when I read on their ‘about’ page:

 “ Howdy! I’m Linda and I have 23 kids , two culinary arts degrees, and a black belt in Karate. I home school all my kids, teach CCD, run the Rosary society and volunteer at our local pet shelter. In my free time I post endless sewing patterns, vocabulary templates, and recipes that I’ve written all myself. I also like to practice my knitting skills and have an entire YouTube page with tutorials on how to spin yarn and raise & shave your Alpacas! This blog is my way of making you feel entirely unproductive, talentless and generally useless because I will post, tweet, and Facebook new ideas daily! Thanks for stopping by!”

I used to see that and want to roll up with a tiny whimper on the couch clutching the last morsel of a Mallomar feeling completely incapable of daily life.Now I see that and I mentally stand with my hand on my hip “C’mon girl! Get real!”. I’m not buying it! Life is not instagramed. It is not collection of photo documentation of what we do. To prove ourselves worthy of the world. “See cyber world? I am so much better than you. This is me striking a yoga pose while making my own hummus. It’s all in the buttocks.” See that profile that has the picture on Facebook that hasn’t changed in over 3 years? That’s a sign of a  person who is real. They are actually living their life!

Anyway, seeing some of these blogs made me think about this one and what I hope that it is or who it is for. I realized that here at athimons.com we are a place for all the moms who stand over the garbage can, scarfing down the leftover pizza crust on your toddlers plate while “clearing the table”, for those of you who nearly break their necks tripping over the lost camel from your nativity scene….in August. Who pick up, re pick up, and spend the whole livelong day picking up! Who have to ask “where are your underpants?” regularly. Who buy ovulation test sticks in bulk, from the pharmacy window, with all your babies in tow. And then has to drag your sorry self back to the pharmacy the very next day because the totally incompetent college aged pharmaceutical assistant sold you fertility tests instead of ovulation tests. As if you just being there with all the kids was not a completely obvious sign of which one you needed. Who lick the outside of the yogurt container before you put it back in the fridge, who found out that hey, applesauce and rice cereal is realllllyyyy yummy,who remember that you forgot to switch the wash at 2am and who chase deranged, fat, squirrels off your front porch when you find them attacking your pumpkins. This is for those of us who cannot get out of the house due to dirty diapers, spit up, nursing, crying, meltdowns, potty accidents, spilled yogurt, pulled hair, political survey phone calls, tracked in mud, or all of the above. Or for us who never whistle while they work, but sometimes moan or sigh loudly and occasionally have a quivering bottom lip while listening to shrill tiny voices prattling on at hyperspeed.  For moms who find that their times they negotiate most with God is in the wee hours of the morning, with a child who’s been up half the night screaming. (It’s amazing how many novenas and rosaries we promise. And how many saints needing a 3rd miracle we promise canonization to!) For us who are going to be a “Hello My name is: tired” sticker for Halloween (don’t steal my idea, at least wait until I Pinterest it) For all the moms who get pointless advice from old ladies in the grocery stores or endure unasked for rude comments on your fertility. For you who fish around poking yourself in the eye, looking for a contact lens you never put in. For those of us who eat leftovers for lunch cold. Because, no, we don’t have time to heat it up. And frankly, at this point it doesn’t matter because you just swallow it whole in a matter of seconds anyway. Who take out your earrings at night and find one earring with no back on it, and the other one with two. And who are so gosh darn tired that you cannot remember the names of the children you birthed.

This blog is for all you real mommies out there, who are wiping up, cleaning up, picking up,  living it up and are sometimes tempted to give up, but will never want to wake up with any other family than the one you got. And who know that it’s ok to be aggravated and frustrated with changes or crosses, and that it doesn’t make us failures or less of a good parent to question our decisions. I hope this blog is an avenue for Moms out there to not feel like an island in their chaos, that all of us are there, have been there, and know that eventually…everyone will sleep through the night. And naturally we will have our routines back. And certainly, if we had a choice over which cross we wanted, we would choose our own because let’s get real: nobody knows the ins and outs of our jobs like we do.

Snot a good morning

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So this morning, as I was scrubbing down the highchair (for the first time in days….yet again another sign of the second time around) I noticed Pretty Princess had managed to retrieve the box of Rice Krispies from the table and pour herself a heap into her lap and have a snack. I sighed but resigned myself to the next task at hand which would be krispy clean-up when I began to see her face start squirming. Her eyes were getting teary and she was scrunching up her nose a lot. It passed through my mind quickly what might be going on, but instead of giving my thought up….I inquired,

"What are you doing?"

She looked up at me, and quipped, "Um, cereal booger."

Just as I had suspected, she was shoving Rice Krispies up her nasal pasage. Lovely. My thoughts turned to stories I had heard of friends with kids who had manage to get play dough, bagels, and M&M’s up those delicate tunnels. And I quickly wondered if she had snaked them up far enough to get trapped in her sinus cavity.

I walked over to assess the damage while asking,

"Did you get them stuck in your nose?"


Laying her down flat on the floor I took a peek. The little booger, pun most definitely intended, was clinging for life not so far up her nose. Would I need a tweezer? Would my finger be too big? What if I push it farther up? Ahhh what the heck. I held the other side of her nose down and told her to blow. Out flew the krispy and she exclaimed, "Booger!"

After we went over strict instructions on what things were allowed in our noses (answer: nothing) I sent her on her way and went to get the broom to sweep up the mess. Before I could make it back, she was snorting again. Sure enough another blow and four more rice krispies came flying out! I couldn’t believe it! What was going on with her? And how gross is that?

Ahh so needless to say, it was a long morning. Only beginning with cereal boogers and ending somewhere between two dirty diapers and a hurricane-like rainstorm while running late to the doctors. At least bedtime is not too far off, should I attempt a bath tonight?

Sleep for sale

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I should sell my eyeballs on E-bay. All this lack of sleep is making them roll so far in the back of my head, they’re beginning to become useless to me. At least that’s the way it feels.

“What’s wrong with you?” asks my Mom

“Uggggg I’ve been up since 4:30am” says me, zombie Mom.

“What?! Why?” (aka are you special?)

“Because my kids hate me. And now I’m blogging about it.”

Head falls forward and smacks keyboard submitting this enticing new post. Cue sobbing.

Well, I know I shouldn’t expect to get perfect sleep with a 5 month old and a 1 1/2 year old. But they both have been on these awesome 12 hour streaks for a couple months now. So why should I expect any thing less than the best? Or at least if it was less, not shrinking down to a sick teaser trailer for slumber. It goes something like : after nursing every 2 hours through the night, we find ourselves putting Mr. Chubs back to bed peacefully at 4:30 am. At 5 am,  eyes just start to relax, and you find the perfect spot in your pillow, at 5:01 am Pretty Princess stands up in her crib and starts screaming for a book. Faster than Michael Moore eating a ho-ho, I spring out of bed, and within one mighty swoop administer teething meds, provide binky and sing “Twinkle Twinkle” and plop PP back in crib. It’s 5:19 now.

By 5:30 Mr. Chubs has been irked out of sleep and is up again thanks to his thoughtful sister. PP and Mr. Chubs continue this cyclically half-hour pyscho-drive-mommy-insane streak until we arrive at 7:45 am, for whence Zombie Mom can no longer take it and picks up PP out of crib to hear her shouting

“YAY! MOMMY! BOOK!”. (toddler code for: I win)

And here I sit, straining my eyes to type out this profound event. With Pretty Princess climbing on my back asking for a bagel, a pile of children’s books sitting stacked in my lap and another window open on my browser showing me flight deals for a weekend escape to Bora Bora. First, looks like I’ll have to make some good money on selling my sleep before I can afford those tickets.