Friday, November 27, 2015

Girls' Shoe Giveaway From BobbiToads!


Morning Readers,

I know, I know. Like me, you're probably nursing pie hangovers and eating whip cream out of the tub, but you know what goes really great with leftovers?

That's right, free stuff.

Y'all know I love giving stuff away. I love it even more when the holidays are right around the corner. So, it goes without saying that I was totally in luck when I met up with the kind people over at BobbiToads. They make THE cutest shoes for girls. What sets them apart is their unique design. Not only are they in colors that are super eye-catching and fun, but they've figured out a way to mold toes into the shoe so that the nails either light up or can be painted with real nail polish.

Sundance got to try out a pair and was sold. She's currently rocking these light-ups, and loving the heck out of the pink sparkles and cute stickers she got to decorate the toes with.

The quality of the shoes is also out of this world. Kellermans need sturdy shoes because we're pretty much human wrecking balls, so I was super impressed with the thick quality of the material and stitching. Totally worth it. Oh, and here's a few more facts about their awesome company...



Because the peeps at BobbiToads are incredibly generous, they've offered to give away a free pair of shoes to one lucky Reader. So, if any of you guys are looking for a fun gift this season for a special little girl in your life, this giveaway is right up your alley. Also, as a special offer for all my Readers, from now through Cyber Monday, BobbiToads is also offering 40% off all purchases with the code PAIGE, at checkout. After Monday, that code can still be used for 30% off the entire site. Pretty sweet.

Now, all you have to do is hit up the handy Rafflecopter below, and you're on your way to adorable shoes. After that, go grab more pie. You deserve it.


a Rafflecopter giveaway


Until Next Time, Readers!

Like what you read here?  
And now that I've awkwardly made you my friend, come hang out with me on:

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

What It's Like To Have Four Kids: Life As a Poker Game


Afternoon Readers,

How are you guys?

Good, good. Things are here are... going.

Let me start by saying that Little Miss is doing really great. Super healthy. Super cute. Better eyebrows than me. As far as being a stellar human being, she's got all the boxes checked. But let's have some real talk for a second. Lest everyone here thinks I have everything under control, I'd like to issue this PSA:

I don't. Dear Lord, someone throw me a life raft or a really sturdy pool noodle.

Just like every other time I've had a baby, Nature miraculously comes in to perpetuate the human race, very pointedly erasing any and all memory of the very steep learning curve that comes with adding a new person to the family.  Oh, don't get me wrong, it's totally worth it, but when you're the everyday person with no nanny, butler, private chef, or someone to launder and fold all the yoga pants, and a budget that didn't relax at all while you were in the hospital, yelling, "More pie!".....

Jesus take the wheel.

I don't like using the term "shit show" very often because it always rings a little crass, but if the shoe fits, tighten those laces and go for a run. Admittedly, now that we're almost two weeks in to our new routine, things have settled down a bit, but for the first week, Life and I were playing serious game of poker, and, surprise, I wasn't the winner at the table. For instance, even though I'd just had a new baby, the other kids still needed to go to school.

Me: Ok, I just have to get three kids dressed, lunches packed, and get everyone in the car on time.

Life: I'll raise you one baby who needs to be changed and fed ten minutes before you have to be at school.

Me: You're bluffing. I just fed her an hour ago. I'll see your hungry baby and raise you one mother making sandwiches while she mixes a bottle with the other hand, just in case.

Life: Oh, look. I only need two cards. I'm not going to show you what they are, but I pretty much have this in the bag.

Me: Obviously, you can't show me, but if one of them is a toddler who just had an accident and the other is a little girl who can't put on her shoes because her feet hurt when she looks at them, I may have to fold.

Life: They don't call this high stakes for nothing. It's cute how you're trying to keep a straight face. Are you trying not to laugh or cry?

Me: Ha! Like I'd tell you. Ok, I'm going all in with a Percoset for this incision that's burning like dry kindling, a cup of coffee, and a novena to all the saints in heaven that I don't keel over and die.

Life: You sure you want to do that?

Me: I'm never not sure about coffee.

Life: Ok, but one of the twins just tried to start the car, the other one can't even find his shoes, the toddler is prostrate on the floor, crying hysterically about a juice box you didn't give him yesterday, and the baby just pooped again.Did I mention the furnace is on the fritz?

Me: Way ahead of you. I already called the repairman.

Life: But he won't be here until Tuesday. Good thing you noticed all that left over baby weight in the mirror this morning. You're going to have to hug the children and warm them with your own body heat for the next three days.

Me: There's literally got to be anyone else to play this game with.

Life: Nope.

Me: What?

Life:...

Me: What is it?

Life: The toddler just dropped the clean bottle into the filthy side of the sink.

Me: I fold.

So...

There you have it, folks. Things around Kellerman house are going, but going slowly. I know I'll get the hang of this new gig sooner rather than later, but let's just hope I have enough pain killers and coffee to weather the storm. I may not be winning every day, but there's always a chance someone will buy me a life raft for Christmas.

Until Next Time, Readers!

Like what you read here?  
And now that I've awkwardly made you my friend, come hang out with me on:

Monday, November 9, 2015

Late To the Party

"Oh, Janice. It's so delightfully plebeian how you buy your Manwhich cans one at a time."

Afternoon Readers,

I haven't checked in for a bit, but I've been waking up for days in a universe where the Royals have won the World Series. My brain's still trying to process the amazingness of the whole thing, but as Husband's been waiting for this moment for pretty much his entire life, we're soaking in the experience and planning on naming the new baby World Series Kellerman.

It's the right thing to do.

Speaking of Kellerbaby, the countdown stands at only one day until she gets here. That's correct, we're finally at the very end, and I'm eager to waddle towards the finish line. Free pudding, people waiting on me, and watching whatever I want on TV for three days? Yes, please. It also means some uninterrupted blogging time. Who wants a live report on just how the cafeteria gets the jello-to-whip-cream ratio just right? Where they store the 100% cotton hospital gowns? I'm on it.

Before I can head to the hospital, however, my brain has been in overdrive, trying to check everything off my to-do list.

Bills paid sort of time? Check.
Toilets cleaned. Kind of.
Shopping for things I don't necessarily need?

The last one needed to be addressed. Luckily, my sister stepped in to remedy the situation. "So, you want to go to Costco with me?"

I nodded. "Sure. I've never shopped there."

Dead silence. "Um, get your shoes on so you can join the rest of civilized society."

Yes, I live under a rock. But, even so, I'd heard of Costco. I just never shopped there for whatever reason. It was the final punch on my suburban mom card I'd yet to earn. Which was sad, because I only needed one more click and I could turn it in for a free infinity scarf.

"Ok, here's your card. You show it to the doorman and remember to give it to them when you check out. Easy."

I pocketed my new piece of white plastic and nodded back at my sister. "Great power. Great responsibility. Holy crap, is that a three-foot-tall case of salmon?"

She motioned toward the giant doors. "You haven't seen anything yet. Try not to hyperventilate when we get to the cheese."

For the three of you who've never set foot in a Costco, I can only describe it as a giant warehouse filled with wonder and super-sized cases of the ethereal. It's not a place where ordinary servings of chips dwell. Oh, you just want one package of bagels? Shut up, and get the hell out. You better have your hand on the 150 count bag or forget about bagels forever. It's cute you even thought you liked bagels before. Show some dedication. The five pound tub of cream cheese is to your left.

At first glance, it's easy to think the huge cases of pretty much everything you've ever had a food dream about are over-kill. But that's only until you see the prices.

"Hey, it says these are 3.99."

My sister nodded ."Yep, you wanna head to the bakery?"

"But there are seventy-five Pigs In a Blanket in here."

"And?"

I shook my head in disbelief. "That's a ridiculous amount of pigs to stuff in a box. Maybe we should tell someone. It has to be a mistake."

"It's not."

"But what if it is? That's enough hot dogs rolled in dough to feed royalty. All for the price of half a car wash. Someone could be tagging all this stuff wrong."

She placed a gallon of cider in the cart. "All of it?"

I looked skeptically at a box of eighty quiche for five dollars. "All of it. This whole operation could just be a front for funding illegal arms trad- Oh my gosh."

"What?"

"That ham's only ten cents a pound."

Now that I'm thirty-one, there are so few things that excite me. Heading to a club at 11pm? Pass. Memory foam bath mats for ten dollars? Treat yo' self.

"It's so soft."

"Paige, it's a bath mat. Why are you rubbing it on your face?"

"Soft."

"Mmm k'. Maybe we aren't ready for the non-food items."

Oh yeah, did I mention Costco sells things like coats? Right next to the five dollar pumpkin pies. I'd say it's completely unnatural, but.... America.

Once you're sucked into the experience, there isn't time to think, only that brief span of time where you're wandering ridiculously wide isles, muttering things at strangers like, "But if I buy the leggings, how will I bring home that 2000 count box of fruit snacks for the children?" That is, if you can even find your way back to any offspring you left at home. By the end of the trip, everything was relative. I stopped an elderly woman perusing  seventy packs of croissants.

"I need your honest opinion."

"Yes?"

"If I traded in all three kids I already have, do you think I'd have enough credit for that new refrigerator and two of these sheet cakes?"

"Honey, I don't know."

"But you have to know. That one comes with cream cheese filling."

"Um."

"It's fine. Go back to your rolls. Don't forget the chicken salad. Aisle ten for four bucks. Wait.... are you having like half of France over for dinner?"

It's imperative you bring a lifeline. If I'd happened to wander into Costco without someone to pull me back to reality, there's a good chance I would still be there, either living under a stack of goat cheese or figuring out how to drag a new fire pit to the parking lot and Tetris-ing it into the van.

My sister patted me knowingly on the shoulder. "Ok, we have to go."

"But..."

"I know it's hard to not want to build a fort out of the thousand-count diaper boxes-"

"You don't know my life or what I need."

"But if you don't move you don't get lunch for a dollar fifty."

"I think I just had a heart attack."

So, I totally get it now.  I get the appeal. The cases of everything. The cheap hot dogs. If this is what my thirties bring, then sign me up and put my face on the id. Because I'll be going back. Probably a lot. After all, if I'm going to cash in my suburban mom punch card, I can't think of any other place that will sell me infinity scarves at three for ten dollars.

Until Next Time, Readers!


Like what you read here?  
And now that I've awkwardly made you my friend, come hang out with me on:

Until Next Time, Readers!