Toddler Child the Tattoo Artist

My house is slowly turning blue. And pink. A little bit of purple.  And any other color Toddler Child can get his little hands on. I keep throwing away markers, but alas the child has already mastered some fierce ninja skills and somehow manages to find more.

It's not just markers. Oh no, my ivory couch has been tatted with black ink as well as a lovely blue swirly marker design. The door to my office has some sort of green chalky substance smattered about on top of his trademark blue.

Even the floors - my lovely hardwood - has not been spared. No, here and there you will find a speckle of color. A dab of whatever he could get his hands on, even some of Oldest Child's lipstick made it's non-facial debut.

So, what's a mother to do? Squelch his artistic ability? Scream and put him in more time outs than his little toddler brain can comprehend? Beat him within an inch of his life? eh hem, calmly explain that we do not have an art room but we'll be happy to accommodate his freedom of expression in other ways?

For now, this mother is stocking up on Resolve Upholstery Cleaner and hoping the phase passes soon. But, be warned: if you see this kid - HIDE ANYTHING THAT CAN LEAVE A MARK!

Future Picasso, or Tattoo Artist in the making? You be the judge.

I'm Almost Back!

I'm back! And doped up. So, you know, the reading should be fantabulous today. Mis-spellings, mis-punctuations, all that good stuff you look forward to in a blog.

Where to start? My hiatus has been for several reasons:

1. My adult onset ADD has kept me away from the computer and too inattentive to type more than a sentence at a time.
2. Vacation - we visited the hubs' family in Europe earlier this summer... don't worry a blog about that will follow, once I'm coherent again (which should be sometime this week).
3. Sinus surgery (hence being doped up on pain killers while typing this)

With the splints coming out today I should be back to a semi-normal state tomorrow and then the blogging shall resume! You've been warned. Feel free to duck and cover.

The Mayans Were Wrong - The End is Now!

I heard a few seconds of a sound bite on the news last night about the end of the world coming May 21. I didn't pay much attention. Chaulked it up to yet another crackpot who found a way to get airtime. But then, my former college advisor had a quip about regretting sending in his car payment, since the end was upon us and I thought this might warrant some investigation.

Of course, investigation on my part these days means googling things (I can hear all my former pr/journalism professors gasp that I'm too lazy to get off my chair and actually WORK at investigating - that is if I haven't already killed them by the misplaced punctuation that's rampant in my blogs). So after typing in "judgement day 2011" I found this lovely billboard:

                    

Nice, isn't it? I'm thinking this isn't doing such a great job of winning over people to listen to their station... unless it's to make fun of them.

OK, OK... that was harsh. But here's what I believe (and I'm not going to quote the Bible or anything so my non-Christian friends can relax), when the end of the world is upon us it will happen unexpectedly. None of us can sit here and proclaim to know the end of the world.

Besides, I doubt it's going to be next Saturday. The crazy, ranting street preacher downtown told me it was going to be last month, we're all still here. I have a European vacation next month that I've already paid for, dammit - I am not allowing the end of the world to happen before I get my monies worth!

"But wait, Beth, how can you be so sure? "  Yes, I hear your thoughts. How can I be sure? hmm... does January 1, 2000 ring a bell? We all just KNEW the end was upon us then... heck I know some folks who thought they needed to stockpile canned food b/c their refrigerator was going to go kaput. Guess what? At the stroke of midnight nothing happened and the world continued as usual. Finally, we all know that we've got until December 2012. Didn't you pay attention in history class when you studied the Mayans?

But, just in case the end IS upon us  I think I'll go shopping today... plenty of Manolo Blahniks and Christian Louboutins are in my future. Think of how many fabulous shoes I could have if I didn't have a mortgage payment (shh... don't tell the hubs)! 



My Stint as a Hobo

I am neurotic enough to have quite a few travel rules. Those of you that know me, know I'm not a really flexible person - rather set some ground rules and then stick to them fairly heavily. So, the predicament I got myself into yesterday is somewhat surprising... and unfortunately a little comical considering it goes against everything in my nature.

You see, I find myself stuck in a hotel in Oklahoma City with nothing more than my work kit and the same clothes I wore yesterday. I finished with my client meetings early yesterday and since I've decided that Oklahoma isn't exactly my favorite vacation destination I thought it would be a nice treat to go home early. Of course, when does anything I do not consist of some sort of oddball shenanigans?

Long story short, I sat in the OKC airport on stand-by for about 9 hours. Planes came and went, many going to Denver... none with me on them. At one point I had somewhat of a mental breakdown, so spent the last few hours sitting there with raccoon eyes from smudged eyeliner/mascara. Here is where I should note that my clothing, make-up, shampoo, etc. has all made it to Denver... while I sit here with a disposable hotel toothbrush and stale coffee. Oh... and did I mention the same clothes I wore (and slept in) yesterday?

When the lady at the ticket desk said, "Oh, don't worry Mrs. Copic, we'll get you home today. Go ahead and check your bags and they'll meet you in Denver."  I should have insisted that I'd gate check everything. Some of you would say "why'd you check your clothes, you idiot? You should have sent your work kit." But that is where I'd say, "Any travelling salesman will tell you they never part with their kit. You can work in clothes from Target, you cannot sell wedding gowns based on drawings of a stickwoman in a poofy skirt." Next you'd ask, "Why didn't you go buy clothes from Target last night?" and I'd say "Because my GPS is in the suitcase that went to Denver and I couldn't venture to far from the airport for fear of never finding my way back!"

I had to sleep in the same dress I wore yesterday. I mean, it was that or sleep in the buff... and after the day I had it would be just my luck the hotel would catch on fire and I'd be standing outside in a bathtowel. If I'd lost the weight of a small wildabeast like I need to that might not be a horrible thing - but in the present state of my body we'll not go there.

And as I put my pantyhose back on this morning, I realized they somehow have a run in them. So yes, I'll be that lovely woman walking through the airport in the same clothes as yesterday, bedhead hair (and not the sexy bedhead) and holes in my stockings. I can't wait to get home and soak in my tub, use every Aveda product I have at my disposal on my hair and put some damn makeup back on! Hopefully the airport gift shop will have some crappy hairbrush I can pay a small fortune for and look a little less like a hobo.

Someone Actually Believed I'm Nice!

I know, that is a weird headline, but for those of you who know me well - you know I have a bit of an edge, I'm fairly blunt, and sugar coating things isn't always my strongest point. Blame it on my "half breed" status... I'm half Yankee, half Southerner. Sometimes the Yankee side gets the better of me.

Growing up in the South, I rebelled against our genteel ways. I was a bookworm, but I also liked to play in the dirt. I frequently had dirt under my nails and I didn't learn how to keep my hair presentable until adulthood - and sometimes "presentable" is still a questionable term. In fact, I went through a weird stage where I didn't want my Barbies to look like Barbies so I shaved off all their hair with my mom's razor. Afraid of what she might say, I stuffed the hair down the air vent in my room. She was much more angry about the fine silky Barbie locks floating around the room than she was the spiky buzz cuts I'd given them.

Once I hit college; however, I realized that there is something to Southern Charm. And, I'll be the first to admit - I frequently use it to my full advantage.

This past weekend I attended my company's sales meeting in California. Of course I was on my best behavior, and somehow that translated to the sales rep from the Northeast territory (also female) thinking I might have a hard time. You see, we are travelling sales reps for a bridal manufacturer. Six months a year I travel a seven state territory to place gowns in bridal shops. There's a lot of rejection. There's a lot of travel through the remote hinterlands of our country. There's 3 meals a day in sometimes questionable establishments. I love it. But, I travel the South/Southwest. I understand the mentality - and the idea that someone saying "Betty Sue, bless her heart, ...." may be a nice way of saying "Betty Sue, that stupid *&%$  idiot, ... "

So, getting back to my headline - over breakfast we were talking about different situations that could hit us out on the road. My counterpart turned, looked at me and said, "Do you think you're hard enough for this type of work? I mean, you seem to be a really good salesperson, but you're just too nice." I actually dropped my fork. I think coffee may have squirted from my nose, and I died laughing.

When we got to the office that morning, I told my boss. He died laughing too. You see, he grew up in Chicago. He's a somewhat hardened LA resident now. He told us of the first trip he took to the south. He described the average middle-income southern woman - perfect make-up, perfect hair, perfect nails, impeccable clothes and stylish shoes. Always smiling, nodding, speaking softly. How on that trip, he decided those soft spoken well mannered southern ladies were probably the most ruthless, scrappy group of women on the planet.

You see, we were taught to be a genteel group. To love our families, be excellent hostesses, and keep up appearances. But, we were also taught to look out for ourselves, be fiercely independent, and not to take anything from anyone. True southern women can cook you the most excellent meal you've ever eaten, take a leisurely stroll through the garden, and then, quite possibly, sharp shoot her way out of dodge.

Afterall, isn't it the quiet ones you have to watch the most?

Why can't it be 70 everywhere all the time?

After shovelling about a foot of snow off the driveway to get out, I find myself in sunny So Cal for a sales meeting for work. If it weren't for the pesky earthquakes, fires and mud slides I might actually like this area. It's a beautiful part of the country and the weather is gorgeous - especially if you're used to being blinded by the white glare of the sun bouncing off the snow.

For those of you that follow this who are also clients or industry friends - look out! We have an awesome line for fall 2011, and I can't wait to share it with you. I get home late tomorrow night and will be planning my road trip for the upcoming travel season. Just think, those of you who thought my perils in LA last October, and subsequent strange happenings in TX (lizard room mates, random border patrol searches, etc) - all these occurrences and more are about to start up again late February/early March.

This travelling mama is sure to have plenty of weird stories to report. So until then, in my best Ron Burgandy voice, "Stay Classy, internet readers."

The Weather Outside is Frightful!

Thanks to my Weather Channel App, I know it's a balmy -9*, and feels like -28* right now. Hey, that's a heatwave, considering I woke up to -12, with a feels like temp of -32!

I had great plans for the day, take the baby to the sitter, go downtown and have my hair done, maybe even get lunch somewhere I don't usually get to go. Instead the schools are closed due to record breaking cold and I'm stuck inside with three crazy kids and an even crazier dog. Yeah, even with her coat Diva Dog refuses to go outside in this mess. There's only about 2-3 inches of snow on the ground, nothing major, but she just sits there and stares at us like, "no way, lady. You go do your business out there and see how that feels."

Needless to say, there's been lots of hot cocoa made today and I'm thinking we'll have some sort of stew for dinner. It was going to be beef, but I can't decide. We have a family visitor from Salt Lake coming over for dinner tonight before attending a conference downtown tomorrow so I might get creative. Who knows? Depends on if I'm brave enough to venture to the grocery store.

Since moving out here I've thought a lot about the pioneers. I don't know. Maybe it's my obsession with Denver native author Sandra Dallas and her books, which are all set in or around the Midwest and several in Colorado mining towns. When it's this cold I find myself thinking, "how did they survive?" Gives you a whole new respect for the awful things our ancestors went through to give us the comforts we have today.

Yes, My Hair is Naturally Dark... I Just Do or Say Stupid Things.

Ever have one of those moments where you say something, and the second you do you just know it was stupid? Well, that was me last night... and it was published out in cyberspace for all to see. I thought I'd be smart and sassy responding to a friend's facebook post.

This was her post (names left out to protect the innocent):

Every State of the Union makes me think of the time I made my sister watch and asked her government questions. Me: "Do you know what the Attorney General does?" Her: "Um, tells you not to smoke?!"

My response, in my most "intellectual" typing voice:

He/she also tells you not to drink when preggo. What? Did I miss something? ;p

And then, a lightening bolt hit me, and I attempted to redeem myself:

Oh wait... That's someone else. Lol. Surgeon General's warning... Now everyone knows why I went from poly-sci to something more creative.

Of course, we all know that the Attorney General is the head of the Department of Justice and is considered the chief lawyer of the USA. But for a moment, I just knew he was the guy who said if you drink during pregnancy your kid will come out with three eyes and 16 toes.

Believe it or not, I have a rather high IQ, and my college entrance exams were in the "impressive" category... even if my every day actions leave you to wonder... "Is she the girl the dumb blond jokes are written about" and why are they blond jokes if she's so obviously brunette?

So, now that I've opened up to the world and shared my most recent stupid moment, what's yours? Come on... one of my 15 followers has to have something much worse than this they can share and make me feel better!

Danger: The Office Monster May Still Be On The Prowl

My friend Audreya's post today was about how we all have rooms we don't want our friends/family to see when they visit our homes. You know, like my office that may eat you alive if you accidentally wander into it. This has been a greatly debated topic in the Copic househould lately. You see, it's time to start the passport process for the baby. And the passports the older two have are expiring this year.

Since we are planning to visit the hubs' family in Europe this summer, then it's kind of important that I get off the couch begin the paperwork process. The problem is, I picked such a "safe" place for our special documents, that I have no clue where I've stashed them.

I spent most of yesterday looking for them. I checked all the usual places. Found all our old tax returns, some checks for bank accounts we no longer have, random pictures of our college days (yeah, those needed to stay hidden) but not the passports - or the baby's birth certificate.

So,clearly I still have some work to do.  But it may be safe for a quick thinking adult to wander into the office now... still too risky for small children. The office monster may still be lurking.

Christmas and New Year's in Review

Things have finally gotten back to normal from the holiday activities (well, almost normal - the decorations are still up, but will come down this weekend). Christmas itself was fairly uneventful. I cooked "Christmas Dinner" on Christmas Eve, and we opened all our gifts afterwards.



The older two taught baby M
how to open his presents.



Christmas morning was filled with the usual excitement of finding out what Santa brought, as well as the hustle and bustle of us loading up the car for our first Christmas Vacation. The hubs grew up skiing, none of the rest of us have ever attempted any sort of winter activity - other than sledding - so of course, an eight day trip to the mountains was just what we needed, right?

After loading the car full of suitcases, skiing/snowboarding/sledding/skating equipment, the dog, and of course ourselves (and yes, the car looked like it belonged to the Clampets once all of the previously mentioned items were in it) we were off to Winter Park, a ski resort town about an hour's drive from home.

<>

View from the car as we crossed
part of Berthoud Pass.

Most days were full of activity; however, I will confess that cooking at a higher altitude than what we're currently at proved to not always be as easy as it is down here at a mere 6,000 ft. Somehow, I managed to bake cookies (not typically an easy feet at higher elevations), but didn't get soup right - I'm blaming it on the water, no way it could be anything I did wrong!



Day one of our quest put both me and the middle child in "ski school". I use this term loosely because he will fiercly tell you he does NOT ski, he boards/rides/whatever the "cool" term for snowboarding is. All I know is after two lessons he's flying down the mountain fearlessly while I'm still plowing my way at a snails pace on the baby slopes. It was a lot of fun though, and I'm looking forward to many memories being made out there.



Proof that - contrary to any reports
 you might hear -  I can stay upright on skis.



I am happy to report that there were only two falls made by yours truly on the mountain. The first was when I went a little faster than what was in my comfort zone, and subsequently got the tips of my skis stuck together. I know, rookie mistake... Fortunately there was a nice soft snow dune that I drove myself into. I'm sure it was a lovely sight. The second was a classic "Beth Accident". For some reason I have an unrational fear of the chairlift. As the hubs and I approached the end of one of our rides, there was literally a man down. Some guy had fallen not far from the lift's exit ramp. Of course I was afraid of running over him, so got stuck on the chair and instead of exiting when I should have, I instead jumped from the chair as it turned the corner to head back to the bottom. Luckily it had snowed a few inches the previous night and I had a soft landing pad.



Middle Child (in green jacket) gets
ready to head downhill in class.

Middle child, of course, is much more athletic and was zooming down the slopes in no time. Laughing at me as he passed by, and upset the last couple days we were in town because it was too cold and windy to take him out.

One of the highlights of our trip was a jaunt over to Grand Lake. An area known for summer activities, but also a haven for snowshoeing and ice fishing. Originally the plan was to do some ice fishing, but we got a late start and just did some sightseeing and shopping instead.

We did not;  however, venture close
to them. Moose are not known for
being nice if they think you are
invading their space...

We did see three large moose in a meadow on our drive. To me that was one of the highlights of the trip!

Unfortunately, our trip was not without drama. We originally planned to come home on the 2nd. But, as temperatures plummetted (windchills ranged from -50 to -31, with real temps being around -4 for the highs) the hubs and I decided we'd all be a little saner if we went back to our own home, where we each had our own rooms to retreat to instead of the two bedroom duplex we were staying in.

We packed up and decided to leave after lunch. While we cooked, the kids entertained themselves. And that's when middle child decided he would carry baby man around the back bedroom. Somehow, they fell and when they did the baby took a face plant into the metal bedframe, splitting his right nostril open.



What? You mean stury strips aren't
normally part of my handsome physique? 



Nine and a half hours, two emergency rooms and quite a few stitches later - we were home. Thankful that nothing more tragic happened, and wondering if maybe we should have left after breakfast instead of trying to cook lunch.

It was a good trip; however, and these are the things memories are made of, right?

Oldest child refused to pose
for pictures - but that's her on the left, just
in front of the bridge skating
.

Baby Man loving the sled!

***Side note, I have no idea why there are two of the same pics of middle child snowboarding, the first one is not showing up in my edit thread, it appears to be deleted but when I publish it's there. So get over seeing the same pic twice. Also, I apparently lack the skills of making a cool photo montage, so deal with the sloppy way they are there. As you can tell, I did not resolve to be less snarky this year - only to post on a more regular basis. Cheers!***