Stairs.

My legs are screaming from bootcamp today.

I'm waiting on an Amazon package and because I was an IDIOT and made my office in the basement, I have taken the sprint of death through a sea of spilled legos and up the stairs three times for nothing. Cardio is a bitch with a sense of humor.

Also, because I am a piss-poor planner, I made it all the way downstairs with everything I needed for the afternoon in tow, EXCEPT for my filled water bottle. And because I made a self-commitment to drink 91 ounces of water a day, I felt tremendous guilt leaving it behind.

Back up the stairs. This is time number 4, in case you have forgotten.

My PERSONAL favorite was when I had to pee. (See above, I'm drinking 91 ounces of water, my eyeballs are practically floating.) Now, I'm sore and in no position to rush anywhere at the moment. So imagine my reaction when I went into my bathroom to see that Miles had unrolled all of the remaining toilet paper like a freaking cat and stuffed it into the dirty trash can.

It was then, and only then, that I remembered I kept extra toilet paper upstairs in my linen closet...on the third floor. I'm telling you people, decisions were ALMOST made. But I made my fifth and sixth treks up the stairs, fetched the toilet paper and made it safely back down to my office.

I'm not going to lie though, the thought of sitting on my fat ass and sliding down the stairs crossed my mind on more than one occasion. 

Oh, Fifty Shades of Grey...You Dirty Slut.

I’m sorry Fifty Shades of Grey lovers…I’m sorry I have to do this.

First, I admit it. I’ve watched the trailer for this movie and drooled down my chin on numerous occasions. I’m human. 

To both parties on the sides of this…thing. I don’t know what else you would call it honestly. Debate? That doesn’t really fit. Argument? Eh, maybe. Thing just fits best. STAHP. Please. I beg of you. I want to make a special call out to the people who think this is literature and silver screen gold. You all need to read better books and watch more movies.

I find it comical the stir this movie has caused. It has quite literally generated another uproar on my social media feeds. People are damning people to hell for watching it, while other people are offended since it is "flawless art."

It. Is. A. Movie.

How dare I say such blasphemous things on the world wide web! How dare I challenge the status quo set by red-blooded American women everywhere who read this book!

It. Is. A. Movie.

People's motivation to see movies rarely extends past, "Oh I love -insert actor here." They see something that is appealing, they go watch it. It explains why my kids have watched Frozen a gazillion times. It interests them. It doesn’t go much further than that. The same holds true for adults and by extension this movie.

Come on people! It’s smutty fiction written by a woman who was in love with her characters…we saw the tween disaster version of this with Twilight. 

At the end of the day - who flipping cares? Overly drawn out Harlequin novels have been around for ages. The only difference is this one has attractive people instead of the oiled up dreamboat of the 80s.

I tried to read this book by the way - it was horrid writing and I couldn’t even get past the first chapter. Even when I skipped ahead to the dirty parts, which I admittedly did, it was painful to try and read those too.

But am I going to watch it? Duh…a hot boy with bondage gear?! Sign this mama up! Ow ow! Am I going to lose sleep over the fact that people on my news feed will be offended? Ha. Do you know me at all? 

So, I'm sorry Fifty Shades of Grey fans that I have to call your amazing book crap. I'm still going to see the movie and drool by your side, so that has to count for something, right? 

Follow me on Twitter @TheAshleyPrice

Vaccination Debate.

I am so tired of the vaccination debate blowing up my social media feed.

Parents are getting heated and opinionated, and let’s face it…kids are getting sick unnecessarily. Those are the facts that matter, people.

Kids are getting sick with illnesses that shouldn’t be around. That HAVEN’T been around in decades. Why? Because a generation decided it was a bad idea to vaccinate? What changed? Honestly…can someone tell me, because I don’t know.

If one person can tell me honestly with facts and data WHAT CHANGED…I will eat crow, which everyone knows I hate.

My primary concern behind this entire debate will be always be the impact on our kids. Shame on the parents who are throwing their children into the mix of this for publicity. 

It is not my place to say what parents should or shouldn’t do. If you’re going to vaccinate - great, and if you’re not going to vaccinate - great. But either way, be respectful human beings to the other parties opinion and don’t use your kids as a case study to fuel your opinion. They just need you to be a parent, not a lobbyist. 

Most of you know my advice on these types of debacles. Be informed. Educate yourself. But I have an extra step for this one…Be understanding.

Understand that immune-compromised children cannot be around unvaccinated children because it could be detrimental to their health. So if you choose not to vaccinate, think about the repercussions of sending your kid to public school. On the same note, if you are a parent with a child who cannot be around unvaccinated kids, you should do the same.

Understand that not everything you read on the internet is true. Do vaccines cause Autism? I don’t know. Some say yes, some say no. But here’s an article that might shed some light on what Autism Speaks thinks.

Understand that as humans, we all share this planet and regardless of opinions and differences, we need to be respectful to our fellow humans and their offspring. 

I don’t expect to change anyones mind on the vaccination debate. This is one that is going to define our generation…and is already starting to. My opinion and what I do for my kids is irrelevant for this post. But I can say, I have friends who vaccinate and friends who don’t. They’re still my friends. And they’re good parents.

Now. Please stop blowing up my social media. I love you all, but I’m ready to see fun posts again. Not heated debates. I’ve only got a year until election time rolls around - let me enjoy it. 

A Letter for a Single Dad, Not Currently Laughing.

 Dear Dan,

You don’t know me. You’ve never read my work or followed my blog. But I read yours. That’s the funny thing about writers, you don’t even have to know someone is reading your work – just putting it out there is enough.

So this morning when I woke up and stumbled for the first cup of coffee I thumbed through Facebook like any good Millennial would and I saw your post.

I don’t have the answers to your questions – they aren’t the questions you really want answered anyways. But I have some words for you, they’re not much but I hope they ease your mind.

A breakup, no matter how big or small, mutual or messy, starts a grieving process. Just like the grieving process you work through when death comes knocking at a door. Emotions are high, questions start being asked “What if…Maybe if I…” and all of that, no matter what anyone says, is ok. You have to feel those emotions, Dan. Let them in no matter how much they hurt to think about. Work through the grieving process.

So get mad. Get upset. Yell and write and cry. I won’t tell.

And when you’re done, at the end of the longest day of your life, know that you have a completely random stranger pulling for you.

As always,

Ashley

Dear Mom.

Those of you who know me, will know that I don't air my emotional baggage all over social media. But today, on the anniversary of my mom passing away...I'm going to. She loved when I wrote, no matter what the content was. Writing has always been, and will always be, my passion and she saw that in me and encouraged me to do it. I let it fall through the cracks a lot and life gets in the way...but today I'm writing for mom - to mom.

Mama,
Today is the day where I'm brutally reminded that my world is completely turned upside down and you're not here anymore.

I've been trying to write you a letter for two years, thanking you for all of the things you did for me and reminding you of how much I loved and still love you. But you know all of that...I know you do, I can feel it. I know you're still here with me because the magic of Birthday Week is still around even though I don't get a phone call at 5:25 in the morning from you. I know that you're here with the boys when they're hurt or scared because I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach that tells me I need to go be with them. That's you. You taught me how to be a good mom - I was made in your image.

Boy, was I made in your image. We butted heads a lot when I was younger. I kick myself for it now. You drove me crazy! And I know I drove you crazy too! But that's what we did. If I had only known that my time was limited with you...maybe I would have been more patient with things that I thought were trivial and time consuming? Who knows.

I know you know all of these things mom, because you were my best friend. My other half. My person. Even when we fought, I loved you. More than anyone or anything ever could. I always had this unwavering love for you. I needed you. I still need you.

Yes, I'm always sad that you're gone - but I've learned that sadness is selfish, at least in this case. You were sick and hurting, and I don't want that for you ever. Even if it meant one more day here with me. I know you're in a better place with Rose and Mater - I've finally accepted that.

But what I truly feel when this time comes around is guilt...and I haven't told anyone that. I'm sure you've figured it out by now. I feel guilty, Mom. Because you were always there for me. When I was sick or scared...you were there. That's what moms do. But when you were sick and scared two years ago...I wasn't there. When it was time for you to go, I wasn't there with you. I should have been. As your daughter, I should have been the one there with you to hold your hand, and tell you that it was ok if you wanted to let go now - that Pat and Chris and I would be ok because we're strong. Because we were made in your image. I wasn't. I had this gut feeling earlier in the day - I even texted Pat and told him that I thought something wasn't right. Every ounce of my body and every sign from the universe was telling me to stay, but my head made me leave....and then you were just...gone.

I remember coming to your house the next morning and holding your hand...and apologizing. God, I hope you heard that. Because I meant it...I still mean it. I am so sorry, Mom. You needed me more than anything and I was not there for you, and I am so so very sorry. I want you to know that. That I love you and I feel terrible for not being there with you, every day of my life. I am sorry for all the times we yelled and fought. I'm sorry for all the times I was ever difficult. I'm sorry that I couldn't give back everything to you that you gave to me.

My guilt will live with me forever...I know this because some mornings I wake up - this morning in particular - and it's the first feeling that courses through my body. But like all things, guilt is a phase. Most mornings I'm fine, and time heals all wounds...or so I've heard.

You should know though, that we are all fine mom, you don't have to worry about us. I figured out how to tell when hot dogs and lunch meat go bad without having to call Pat or Aunt Terrie...Sometimes I still have to call them and ask, just to make sure. You did such a good job raising us, even when we made mistakes or had bumps in the road you knew exactly how to help us through it. And look at us, we are all semi-functioning, well-adjusted adults.

So thank you mom - for teaching me how to sew, how to iron, how to cook. Thank you for teaching me that sometimes life throws you curve balls, but worrying about it isn't going to make it any better. Thank you for loving me at my best, and at my worst. Thank you for giving me all of the knowledge and power you knew I would need to succeed in my life.

But I think that the most important thing I could thank you for is this...Thank you for teaching me that love is always, no matter what, unconditional.

You will always be my best friend and my person. I love you, Mama. Unconditionally. Forever and always.
Love,
Your Baby Girl

Twitter Update!

To all of those who follow my blog and my Twitter account - it has been updated to @TheAshleyPrice. 

Check check check it out.

Burn Baby Burn.

I always keep miniature tea bags in the freezer....they are super handy for healing elements - bloody lip, surgical wounds, burns etc....I highly encourage all parents to do this. They've come in handy for me on more than one occasion!

I also always keep honey on hand. Mostly because it's delicious, and like tea bags it has very medicinal qualities. Local honey also helps with allergies and all kinds of stuff.

So today when Fisher burnt his thumb and aloe vera gel, burn spray and other chemical remedies failed to bring him relief, I created the ultimate home burn relief.

So for all the moms with tiny humans I thought I would share!

Homemade Burn Remedy
1 dampened tea bag - mine are caffeinated black tea but any natural tea will work
Honey
Gauze

Apply a generous dollop of honey to the damp tea bag and apply directly to the burn. You can wrap light gauze around it to hold it in place.

I wrapped a chilled wash cloth around the whole thing instead so it wouldn't get too sticky and it would provide a little extra relief.

You can change it out every 4 hours or so.

The best part is that both tea bags and honey are natural burn relief agents on their own, so of you have one or the other it should still provide relief.

*Disclaimer. I am not a medical professional I just share what I have found that worked for my family. Don't take my two cents as anything more than that. Use common sense.

Also, I am not knocking chemical based medical remedies - in fact I use them! Especially after working out and my muscles are in need of some serious Bengay action.

However, I am finding that as we lead a more natural lifestyle there are home remedies out there that are overlooked and underestimated that actually work BETTER.

Follow me on Twitter @JackNFishersMom

Ashley "Breaks Sinks" Bacon

I break things. I would compare it to people looking into Medusa’s eyes…I look at things and they break. I also have this effect on plant-life…I think about growing it, and it choses suicide rather than the life of starvation I would inevitably give it.

Regardless, it is just in my DNA to break things. Luckily my husband is handy and he is typically there to fix whatever it is I have touched and/or thought about touching. 

So when he went to the store to buy me a lovely warm blanket that I had asked for because I have been feeling under the weather, I thought I would be awesome and do the dishes. 

Wrong.

I am not really sure why he was so surprised to walk into the kitchen and see that I had broken the sink by putting an entire pot of leftover cabbage down the garbage disposal. So contrary to what this particular blog post might imply, I am very smart and quite handy…however, my thought process was simple.

Soupy leftover cabbage + Trash = Smelly drippy trash

Soupy leftover cabbage + garbage disposal = Chopped up liquid cabbage that flows down the drain and doesn’t stink up my house.

Simple. However – my hubs did not agree with this thought process and after several swear words, throwing of kitchen items out of the way of the draining cabbage-water and half a gallon of Drain-O the sink appears to be fixed.

Although, when I asked him if I could drain my pasta for dinner he politely told me no, and I had to drain it in the bathtub. No biggie. 

The best part of this particular genetic-flaw that I possess are the nick-names that come along with it…I’ve earned quite a few, some that stick around for a while and some that pop and fizzle. Tonight’s nickname will definitely go down in the history books. 

As I was apologizing for causing the sink a slow and painful death-by-cabbage, Hubs just smiled and said, “It’s ok…It’s just what you do. It’s your middle name… ‘Ashley-Breaks Sinks-Bacon’.” Then he said that this incident caused me to lose my married name. Eh, it happens.

So basically I asked if that could be my mafia name, smiled and all was forgiven…and my sink gets to live another day.

Procrastination

I will blog...I will blog...I will blog...


Tomorrow.


Whatever, don't judge me. :)

Snowed In.

What a four days it has been! Let me just recap...

Thursday - School is called, I get up finish prepping for snow start doing laundry and working from home when the pipes 'busted' and my washing machine leaked all into my floor. Turned out there was an issue with the city line, they fixed it and my pipes did not bust.

Friday- Fisher wakes up with a tummy ache and is doubled over feeling downright bad. I had NOTHING in the house to soothe this so I layered up while it was still snowing, made my way to the store and got these things. Made it home, he feels fine. Friday night Fisher falls and busts his lip open...I mean OPEN. Get that solved and he's fine. Miles un-decorated and re-decorated the Christmas tree every five minutes while managing to eat several things that should not have been eaten. 

Saturday- My house was clean when I went to bed and seemingly destroyed within the few hours we were awake. Fisher bit himself and it looked like a spider bite. But being stir crazy started to sink in and I could feel my patience wearing thinner than it already was. I gave up on Saturday entirely.

Today - house is still a disaster, I gave up on it the third time I cleaned it on Friday afternoon and the cleaning before it was destroyed on Saturday was just for good measure and maybe that last little inch to get my pearls. Kids refused to eat real food, gave up on that too - they ate junk all day today and are still alive, so I call that a win. The boys kept fighting and at one point I was convinced they were going to go straight up Hunger Games, gave up on solving that problem real quick or I was going to become their next victim. Fisher fell and scratched his side up pretty well but lived through that too. I did manage to get out of the house for a while and bought myself some cordial cherries…that the kids fed to the dog.

But I say all of that to say - I lost my cool a couple of times while trapped indoors with everyone in my house, I'm not a perfect mother. I shouted the boys shouted and we fought and I was fairly stressed since Thursday morning. But tonight when it was all said and done while I gave the boys baths and took a deep breath because I realized we had all survived this together –  I was overwhelmed with a feeling that I had learned so much more about each of my kids this weekend.

Jack is a passionate artist with one of the most creative minds I’ve ever seen. He’s so much like me in that aspect – which explains why he and I butt heads sometimes. I can personally relate to the feeling of having so much energy and vision that it’s hard to just “harness” it so-to-speak. But once he started putting pen to paper and explaining everything to me I saw that spark in him. It was amazing. He has such big ideas and wants to make such a lasting impression on the people around him and he doesn’t even know it yet. He talks about having proof-readers and people who can help him channel his artwork. The conversations we had, while may have been passing to him, were everlasting for me.

Fisher is the most accident prone child I have ever met. Ever. He is a walking representation of Murphy’s Law. You can literally see the accident before it even happens. He runs everywhere and is absolutely fearless. But he is so tender-hearted and loving and when he gets hurt he is brave and strong. He has his little quirks like not touching certain kinds of bread and sticky things and not sitting down in restaurants he doesn’t feel comfortable in…but at the end of the day he is a sponge and takes in everything around him…and remembers it. I know this because he called me out on a cookie I promised yesterday in exchange for 5 minutes of quiet time that I never paid up on. 

Miles will eat anything. ANYTHING. He consumed an entire tube of red-velvet cupcake chapstick, his weight in old Halloween candy, dog food, his plate of food followed by my plate of food, a cotton ball, cordial cherries, and I think he may have swallowed Atlantis at some point. But he’s funny about it. He’s just exploring the world around him and he has to know how everything feels and taste. Watching him explore and learn, while frustrating when he un-decorates my Christmas tree for the fifteenth time to touch and feel the ornaments, is still fun to watch. 

And while I feel like I was stressed this entire snowed-in weekend I realize that tonight God brought be peace and realization. Mostly realization that even when I’m at my wits end with things and I feel like I’m going to lose my mind if I do not talk to someone who can drive a vehicle without the word “Tonka” on the side of it, I am still able to look back and realize that I have learned and loved through it all. 

My kids are my life and my inspiration and I know I say that often but this weekend really gave me time to realize who they are as people. And while I am FAR from a perfect mother I like to think that the memories we make are helping to shape them into the people they are going to become.

The other thing I learned? 

Technology is the only thing that saved my sanity this weekend.