the fair

The North GA State Fair is in town. We went last year and had a great time, even though Tate was too small to ride any of the rides. I mentioned it to him...asked if he remembered going ("yes")and told him he'd probably be big enough to ride some of the rides this year. He said some stuff and then I said some stuff, which eventually led to me telling him that he was going to grow up to be big, just like his Daddy. His excited response:

"I know!! And, then I can dress up just like Mommy!!"

And that's how I knew we weren't talking about roller coasters anymore.



In unrelated news, I found an iPhone app that puts mustaches on people when you take their picture. Two-year-olds (and their mother) find this to be hysterical.

mommy confession

So, I forgot to pick up the kids from school yesterday. Completely. Forgot. I'm still a little in shock over it myself.

I worked from home like usual. Keith came home around 4:30pm and went upstairs to take a nap, and I jumped in the shower around 5:15pm so that we could meet friends in downtown Roswell at 6:30pm for the monthly Alive After Five event.

After my shower, I remembered that I needed to send one "quick" email. The "quick" email involved a complicated subject and I totally lost track of time.

I remember looking down at the time on my computer. And I remember thinking... "oh wow, it's 6:20pm. Let me run back upstairs and change clothes so that we can go."

I went upstairs, Keith was still laying in bed... and that's when it hit me: HOLY @%^#!! I FORGOT ABOUT THE BOYS!!! (Keith thought I had already gone to get them - didn't realize I was still downstairs. He was lying there waiting for me to get home.)

Keith dashed out the door like a madman and I called the school to let them know that we were, um, running a little late. He got there at 6:40pm (10 minutes after they closed) and retrieved our poor, forgotten babies who were standing by the front door with the teacher who was ready to lock the building and turn out the lights.


My guilt and self-loathing were somewhat eased when two little happy faces came through our front door. Tate ran and gave me a big hug, and Brady was all smiles, so I suppose all was forgiven.

But, seriously, what kind of mother forgets about these two?? A tired one, is my only explanation. I think the weeks of sleep deprivation are finally getting to me!!!!!!

keith golden!!!

I sent my dear, sweet husband outside on Monday night to grill steak kabobs for dinner.

He got a little distracted.


So, I guess we're getting a new deck!

panic-attack thursday

Who needs coffee? Simply follow these steps to ensure that you are fully alert and that your adrenaline is pumping on a Thursday morning:

1. Get your baby and toddler dressed and fed and head outside to load them into the car.
2. Open the driver's side door and put your purse in the seat. Close the door.
3. Open the back passenger door and get the baby and his car seat loaded. Close the door.
4. Open the front passenger door, reach across and put the keys in the ignition and turn on the car. Accidentally set off the panic alarm, but quickly shut it off. Hear a clicking noise. Ignore it. Shut the door.
5. Walk around to the other side of the car to get the toddler loaded into his seat. Realize the car is locked.
6. REALIZE THE CAR IS LOCKED!!!!!!! WITH THE BABY INSIDE!!!
7. Check each door to make sure.
8. REALIZE THE CAR IS DEFINITELY LOCKED!!!!!! WITH THE BABY INSIDE!!!
9. Check to make sure the air conditioning is running. It is.
10. Look for your phone so that you can figure out who to call.
11. Realize your phone is in your purse in the driver's seat!!
12. Go inside with the toddler to call your husband from the house phone.
13. Remember that it doesn't work because it is unplugged and uncharged.
14. Head back outside to check on the baby. He's fine.
15. Realize that none of the neighbors are home. Knock on the house next door just to make sure. No answer.
16. Pretend to be McGuyver and look for tools around the house to "jimmy" the lock.
17. Decide that you are NOT McGuyver and that you are going to do major damage to the car if you continue with this plan.
18. Go back inside with the toddler to look up a locksmith number online.
19. Find a nice landscaping man and borrow his cell phone. Call the locksmith.
20. Sit outside in the shade with the toddler while you wait on the locksmith.
21. Look through the car window frequently to check on the baby. He's peacefully napping.
22. Breathe a huge sigh of relief when the locksmith shows up 20 minutes later and unlocks the doors.
23. Pay $150.
24. Hug the baby.
25. Drop the boys off at school.
26. Come home and debate a glass of wine at 9:45am.
27. Take several tequila shots instead. (Just kidding)
28. Call BMW about getting a spare key made.
29. Realize much later that you could have just called 911 and that it would have been quicker and free.
30. Decide that $150 is a relatively small price to pay, and thank God (again) that everyone was ok.

deep thoughts

If I could be any animal, I'd probably be a unicorn.

It would be pretty awesome to be all glittery and elusive, and also get to have a deadly weapon on your forehead.

Because, as everyone knows, unicorns are just ninjas in horse's clothing.

the family bed

"Keep your words soft and sweet in case you have to eat them."

It's true. For those of you who have openly admitted that your child sleeps in your bed, I have scoffed. I have judged. I have peered down at my perfect and precious toddler while he slept soundly in his own bed from my very, very tall parenting pedestal and told myself that would never happen to me.

That is, until my perfect and precious toddler turned me into a liar. And a hypocrite.

Because, you see, the Golden household has been sharing a "family bed" now for weeks on end. Let me show you how it works.

This is our bed.





















This is our bed with it's usual occupants. Notice the human/cat surface area percentages.





















And this is what our bed now looks like. You may notice some variations in the surface area percentages.





















I'm sure this is just a temporary phase. I mean, I don't know any teenagers who still sleep in the same bed with their parents. (right?!?!?)

So, I guess in the meantime, I'll just be laying here...wide awake....eating my words...with a knee in my ribs and an elbow in my eye.

P.S. Dear Brady, don't get any ideas. Love, Mom

grape expectations

In 2006, Lindsey and I vacationed in France and went on an amazing adventure through Paris, Bordeaux and Nice. Naturally, we each brought back wine as a souvenir and I stored my 3 bottles away for a special occasion.

- I took a new job within the company in 2008. No wine.
- Keith and I celebrated our 5 year anniversary in 2008. No wine.
- Tate was born in 2009. No wine.
- Brady was born in 2011. No wine.

It recently occurred to me that if promotions, milestone anniversaries and the births of our children are not special enough occasions, than I clearly don't know what qualifies.

So, tonight, I pulled one of the bottles out of the cabinet and celebrated successfully getting both kids to bed on a random Tuesday evening.

And you know what? It was disgusting.

(I'm sure there's a moral here...what is it?)

my boys

(Alternately titled, "Brady's one-finger salute")

terms of endearment (part 2)

Me: "Good-night, sweet Tate."

Tate: "Good-night, big Mommy."

(Here we are earlier in the evening eating at Menchie's. He requested pink ice cream.)

pink!

This is what happens when I'm left in charge....

terms of endearment

Me: Tate, how many noses does Aunt Lindsey have?
Tate: ONE BIG ONE!!!



(love you Aunt Lindsey!! xoxo)

coco

Keith's voicemail-to-text feature on his BlackBerry is awesome. For just a few dollars a month, he enjoys the convenience of reading his voicemails over text message rather than having to take the time to listen to them.

So now, a voicemail to Coach Golden inquiring about any openings on his team comes across like this:

"Hello Coco. My name is Grill Logan and I was wondering if you had any open time sleeping?"

I love it!! Keith's not ever allowed to get rid of this service....I would miss the entertainment!

what's the opposite of a break-in?

A lock-in??

As if this week couldn't get any weirder, today's highlight was getting locked out of the house and getting to crawl through our sun room window to get back inside. But, the actual story of how this happened is more bizarre than the finale...

Around 2pm I left the house for a quick run to the grocery store and left the front door unlocked. 40 minutes later, I returned home with two heavy armfuls of groceries only to discover that I couldn't get in the front door. After trying it several times, I was sure that the door was not just stuck... the deadbolt was definitely fully engaged and the door was locked. Now, as a 9-month pregnant woman, alone in the middle of the day, this scared me.

My first reaction was to call Keith to see if maybe he came by the house after work and before his baseball game. He hadn't been here, so I was a little more alarmed and we stayed on the phone as I checked things out. Sampras and Bentley (my cats) were both sitting in the entryway and seemed to be acting normal, which was a good sign. I walked around to the side of the house and could see through the window that the tv and computer were still there and nothing seemed to be out of order. So, basically everything seemed normal except for the mysteriously locked door.

Feeling like the house was safe, the next issue became how to get back inside. Both the back door and the garage door were locked, so my only choice was to climb through the sun room window that I knew was open. I was at least able to get a chair from the garage to help with this event and I made it in unharmed, but the entrance was anything but graceful.

As I was walking through the kitchen to check out the problem with the door, I noticed a business card on the countertop:

City of Roswell
Police Department
S.A. Bryant
Police Officer II

And scribbled on the back "I found your front door unlocked. Nothing appears to be missing."

?!?!?!?!?!?!

Questions that come to mind:

1. Is it legal for a police officer to enter an unlocked home?


2. Why would he check to see if my front door was unlocked to begin with?


3. Was there suspicious activity around the house to cause concern?


4. What if I had been in the home when he entered? (just bc there is no car in the driveway doesn't mean I couldn't have been there)


5. Would the City of Roswell have reimbursed me if I would have had to call a locksmith or break a window to get in?

I'm assuming that the officer's intentions were good and I'm happy to live in a neighborhood that takes safety seriously....but this seems a little invasive and Big Brother-ish to me. Wouldn't you agree??

P.S. I tried to call Officer Bryant to get the story (and tell him mine), but it was after his work hours. I will try him again tomorrow.

P.P.S. I will be locking my doors and carrying a key with me from now on. If for no other reason than to keep the police out!!

P.P.P.S. Here is a cute picture of Tate for those of you who have had to endure three non-child-related posts in a row.

robot bathroom

We had idyllic weather in Atlanta this weekend...70's, sunny, slight breeze....so, what better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than at Piedmont Park?

We brought a picnic lunch, played baseball/soccer/football/bubbles with Tate, ran around with Lindsey and Dan's dogs and enjoyed the afternoon sun. Perfect.

Except for the rough start in the first 10 minutes, thanks to this:

ROBOT BATHROOM

Seeming like a very modern, clean, port-a-potty-of-the-future, I had no hesitation about making a quick pit stop as we entered the park. I was even a little impressed with the park at first for embracing this space-aged technology.

The instructions were clearly marked. You push a button on the outside to open the door and then push a similar button on the inside to close it. The door slowly closes, a red light confirms that the door is locked, and your robot host (voice from above) welcomes you and tells you that you now have 10 minutes to complete your business. How pleasant!

Too bad that the robot LIES!!!! No more than 1 minute into this adventure - and in the most compromising and vulnerable position possible - I notice the metal door slowly beginning to OPEN! In this situation, I would imagine that one has 2 choices:

• Choice A: Remain calm. Quickly pull up your pants, ignore the few pedestrians (and passing traffic on 10th Street) and casually depart the bathroom as if pushing the button at this stage of the process was the desired intention all along. Result: Very little attention drawn to yourself.

• Choice B: Wildly dash to the corner of the metal box with pants around your ankles and begin shrieking at the top of your lungs - throwing in a few obscenities for added effect. Depart the bathroom flustered and red-faced with a bevy of onlookers from a ~100 yard radius. Result: Entire park now snickering about the 9-month pregnant woman who just got tricked by the robot bathroom and peed in public.

One can only guess which choice I made.

But, hey, this is just one person's experience. You can check out this site on yelp for 16 other reviews...some of while hail this bathroom as a "must do" in Atlanta.

If that's the case, I've gladly checked this one off as "complete".

big fish

I love our neighborhood.

Around 5:30pm yesterday, I was standing in the entryway of our house gathering up my keys and purse so that I could pick Tate up from school when there was suddenly A LOT of noise outside. I could hear a man screaming in the front yard (a fight? break-in?) and curiously peered out the window to see our neighbor Trent yelling and running frantically toward our house with his 3-yr-old son Cal right behind him. (a fire? is someone injured?)

Thankfully, it was just this...

...a GIANT bass caught in the lake behind our house. Trent didn't have a camera and needed someone to take a picture before he threw it back in. :)

(And, yes, the fish survived....)

first-time parents

Who brings home a new baby with no socks or hat?






At least there's a blanket in the last one. It's funny to look back and remember how clueless we were. And it's funny to think how clueless we will be again when Brady arrives!

fingers

Keith was inducted into a new club today. Unfortunately, it was the I-slammed-my-kid's-fingers-in-the-car-door club, and he wasn't too excited to earn his membership.

What started as a great morning, ended with four of Tate's fingers on his right hand being in the wrong place at the wrong time as we were organizing the car and getting loaded to take him to daycare. It makes me sick to my stomach and a little light-headed to think about it now, but I'm proud of myself for taking charge and acting calmly and rationally in the heat of the moment. (this is coming from a person who easily faints at the sight of blood and has even passed out at the vet's office - a good story for another time)

Keith realized immediately what had happened and was able to open the door back up quickly as poor Tate stood there with his eyes bulging wide as the shock of the incident turned to throbbing pain. I swooped him up and rushed inside to access the damage, which turned out to just be some deep purple indentations and swelling...no damage to the nails, no signs of broken bones and no blood. whew.

I gave him some Tylenol and then gave him a popsicle in an attempt to distract him while I tried to apply ice. The whole thing was over in about 15 minutes and he seemed completely normal when I dropped him off at school...he was even holding a pencil in that hand and drawing as I left.

So, the end result will likely be no scarring for Tate, but permanent scarring for me and Keith, as this was the first (and, hopefully, only) time where one of us has accidentally inflicted major physical pain upon him.

We ended the day with our 4,856th viewing of Toy Story, followed by an early 7pm bedtime. As you can see below, he's perfectly fine. Any maybe even milking it a little. :)

the great balloon watch of 2010

On October 17, Tate was given a helium Mickey Mouse balloon. On October 18, that Mickey Mouse balloon wound up on the 2-story ceiling of our living room. As of November 10, there it remains....taunting Tate from 20 feet above. If you are looking for the longest-lasting, most industrial strength helium balloon ever to provide your kids with weeks of torture enjoyment, let me suggest Publix. Watch for riveting updates as the great balloon watch of 2010 continues....

the twinkie diet

Who says that dieting means giving up the foods that you love? Keith recently stumbled upon this diet plan and thinks he might give it a try. His only two worries? Giving up hamburgers and having to forego a traditional Thanksgiving meal. Both logical concerns.

I think he's joking about actually doing this, but if I've learned anything in 11 years, it's never to assume.....

me, the supermodel

While watching "Project Runway" last night....

Keith: "I think you should dye your hair blonde like Heidi Klum."

Me: "Ew. I don't think that would look good on me at all."

Keith: "Sure it would. You two have very similar faces."

HA!!! Clearly, it's true that love is blind.

But, I am getting my hair cut and colored on Monday. How would I look as a blonde?