I want the biggest Woody ever!!!!

Brody and Eli are ub-sessed with Toy Story. We watch all three on a loop at our house and it's a little ridiculous. Brody went over to a friends house and said friend happened to have the "biggest Buzz Lightyear and Woody toys EVER!" So he made it his mission to find these toys.

It started with a special trip to Toys "R" Us for a Bucket o' Army men from Toy Story with Moo-Moo and Papaw and continued every day until he broke us. We tried to tell him that we'd buy it online but he insisted that we go to the store. So, we researched the best deal and found out that the Disney Store had them on sale last week. AND we just got our new Disney credit cards so we get an additional 10% off in-store so we made the trek. Random note: We got three of the bigger toys for the price of one. Awesome!

We head to the mall and Brody is beside himself excited. We park, walk inside and he freaks out when he sees the Disney store door.

He runs inside, finds the display of Jesse, Bullseye, Buzz, Slinky Dog, and Woody. He screams at the top of his lungs: "I want the biggest Woody EVER!!!!"  Sam and I lose it like 12 year-old boys and almost peed our pants laughing so freaking hard. Oh, who am I kidding. I peed a little. What? Two kids do a number to you. We had originally told him that he could only get Buzz and Woody but after a comment like that we came home w/ Woody, Buzz, and Slinky Dog. He tried hard to bring home Jesse and Bullseye but couldn't seal the deal.

Now we get to deal with the excessive screams to anyone who listens about "Look! Look at my biggest Woody EVER!"

Hilarious. Watch out for those Big Woody's.

Have a SUPER day!

Well, Super XLVI left a giant mark on our glorious city of Indianapolis. The boys and Sam headed to Georgia for a week to visit the ILs and while I was sad to see them go, I was happy that I didn't have to endure the pain, er, visit too. So, mama experienced Indy by herself that week.

What's most hilarious about this, is that I had grand plans on cleaning and organizing and getting stuff done. WRONG. I spent my time relaxing, sleeping (I got a wicked sore throat and laryngitis that week!), drinking and just existing. I managed to drink, celeb stalk, sleep and relax with a little of existing here and there. Did I mention the celeb-stalking? I am a complete and celeb stalking whore. What? I own it.

I'm proud to be a Hoosier. We handled XLVI with sass, style and by the balls.

Here's a photo of me w/ my favorite 90's rapper, Vanilla Ice or as I call him Rob VanWinkle. It's okay, I can call him that because we are best friends.

Word to your mutha.

PS -- Sorry for the radio silence. It won't happen again!

Thanksgiving in the South...

This year, I suggested to Sam that we go spend Thanksgiving in Georgia/Tennessee. Anyone who knows me, knows that I don't always see eye-to-eye with my in-laws. So, I branched out and thought, what the hell?

I'll admit that I had ulterior motives. You see my friend Bethany lives in the ATL and that's a short drive to Chattanooga/Dalton. I was thinking of shopping, coffee and shenanigans. Oh, were there shenanigans. And coffee. And a little shopping.

So, we left the great state of Indiana on Wednesday evening, drove all night checked in at the lovely Chattanoogan and slept for a bit before heading over the ILs. Did I mention that I had to cook some of Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday morning. So we head to Dalton, stop at Starbucks 'cause Momma needs her Starbucks and then headed to the grocery. Can I just say that I'm pretty much the only in Bi-Lo with actual clothes on? Everyone I saw had on their freaking pajamas. I also got checked out a lot because of that. Well, that and because I'm so freaking adorable.

So we get to the ILs. Did I mention that I'm some how drafted to help cook dinner? I did? Still bitter. So I cooked. ln a kitchen with little gadgets, utensils, etc. A few hours later, we ate. And I started drinking. At the grocery, I decided to pick up a bottle of wine. My ILs don't drink, Sam does occasionally and the boys are really watching their intake so it was all me, baby. I opened the bottle and intended to have ONE glass. SO not the case. In fact, I drank the whole bottle in two-three hours. BY MYSELF. I was hammered. Unintentionally hammered but hammered nonetheless. But I was nice. And cheerful. And cordial. All because I was loaded. And my ILs are side-eyeing the crap out of me now. And I'm pretty sure they'll have wine at their house for me anytime/every time I visit. I don't know if I should be embarrassed or ashamed but I learned a valuable lesson -- drinking while with or at the ILs makes Lisa a calm, not uptight, happy and relaxed person.  I foresee wine in all future IL events.

And that is how I got through a Thanksgiving in Georgia. Wine and Bethany . And we have a few other amazeball stories to tell so watch our blogs.

**Disclaimer, no I don't have a drinking problem. No, I don't NEED wine to get me through social events or life. I need wine to get me through time at the ILs. Capeesh. Don't lecture, okay. It's not cool and kind of makes you look like an ass.***

Sorry for the lack of posting...

We have been insanely busy. It's not an excuse, it's the truth. I have a few posts brewing so I'll post either tomorrow or Tuesday. Maybe both.

Hope everyone is enjoying the holiday season!

Did that really just happen?

Yep. I had one of those moments last night after bath time. We have an after bath ritual where the boys run around naked for a bit while we are getting their jammies and bed ready for quick placement. This usually entails getting Eli out first while Brody enjoys the last two inches of water and toy fun.

So, I got Eli out and let him run around his bedroom and jump on the bed. :gasp: I let my kids jump on the bed. Yep. I'm that mom. Anyway, as Eli was jumping around, I notice that he was squatting kind of funny so I went to investigate. About the time I get over to the bed, I smelled the foulest stench ever. I thought to myself...it smells like poo over --- OMG, Eli. Stop. Don't jump. STAY WHERE YOU ARE. OMG. TOO late. It was like this weird slow-motion situation but my almost two year old took a crap on the bed and then proceeded to bounce all in it. Only Eli could/would do that. I was mortified and dry heaving all at the same time. I yell, and I mean YELL for Brody to get out of the tub so I can toss Eli in with minimal poo damage and then run back into their room (still dry-heaving, mind you.) and start ripping bed sheets off and surveying the damage. The thought process that ran through my head is kind of comical. This morning as I was relaying this awesomeness to moo-moo, (my mother), as she watched the boys yesterday, she tells me how awesome and healthy they ate yesterday. Yes mom, I could tell what you fed my child. Disgusting.

I walk back into the bathroom to see Brody shivering from the cold-air and Eli happy as a freaking lark in the bathtub, watching the little bit of water left draining. I get them dress, put them in bed and go sit on sofa. Alone. Cracking up laughing as I think about the craziness of what just happened.

This is my life, people. Don't be jealous.

Montana should be called "Mantana"...

I'm baaaack! What a glorious 5 days, 4 nights I had in Montana.  During this trip I learned that chivalry isn't dead, the men in Montana are adorable and a vacation with friends is exactly what I needed. I learned a lot about myself this trip - more on that later. But most of all, I learned there are still nice people in the world.

I left at the crack of dawn on Thursday morning and did all the necessary airport stuff. I headed towards my gate and waited. As we started boarding the plane, I noticed an older, elderly woman struggling with her bag. A young guy, without hesitation, helped her get her bag in the overhead and seated. I smiled to myself as I heard the lady thank the gentlemen profusely. Then I started thinking: that's exactly what I want my boys to be. I want my boys to put others ahead of themselves at times and make a difference. It really melted my heart. So, my goal is teach my boys to go the extra mile, hold the door open, shake hands firmly and smile often. It might make someone's day and they will never know it!

After about 6 hours traveling, I landed in Billings. I got my luggage and headed to my rental car. Imagine my surprise when some adorable cowboy held the door for me. Score! I smiled, batted my eyelashes and thanked him nicely. I got on the road to Glendive and drove f o r e v e r (imagine that in my best Sandlot voice) and ever. About an hour before hitting Glendive, I stopped in Miles City for food and to stretch my legs. As I walked into Wendy's, another adorable Montana cowboy held the door open for me. Totally made my heart happy.

I'd like to say that if you ever have the chance of driving in Montana, do it. It's a beautiful, beautiful state. The landscape is so peaceful. So clean. Breathtaking. I'm not going to lie though, at one point I expected to see Ox and Pioneers all around but I didn't.

The moral of this story is that there are still decent people in this world. People help people when they need it, smile at you for no reason and open doors for the ladies.  Bottom line: there are some nice dudes in Montana. And there are still some douchecanoes in Montana too.

More on my Montana trip later...

Mommy's taking a vacation. By herself.

In less than 24 hours, I will be boarding a plane for Montana. I'm going to see my friend Kim and her husband, Rudy. This is the second time visiting Montana in three months. I was just there in July for Kim's wedding and it was kind of a cathartic time for me. I mean, I reconnected with a group of gals from college and our group kind of exploded. We talk often, usually over email and have even started a virtual book club. They're pretty awesome and have helped me realize that I'm still me, just a different me.

But that time away allowed me to kind of find myself again. This mom and wife thing can be pretty challenging for me sometimes. I give so much of myself to three other people that I lose a little bit of myself. I'm not saying this to be all martyr like. It's how my life is. Which is pretty funny b/c I was adamant that when I had kids, I wouldn't lose myself. I wouldn't give up me time. Don't get me wrong, I love my family. I do. I'd cut a bitch for my family. But momma just needs to pee alone. I need to eat hot food. I need to remember that my name is Lisa and not just "honey" or "mommy". So, my adventure begins. I'm not sure if I'll blog from the road or I'll journal it and post later. Who knows--maybe I'll video blog (or vlog as the cool kids like to call it!)