Martinez Madness

With fruit snack dreams and lego laden wishes…..

Archive for the month “December, 2011”

Who needs toys when you have toilet brushes…

First off, Luca is in disbelief that I have the entire Lion King movie memorized.  My cool points just doubled…to 5.  That math was done by my small Einstein.  Teo is multi tasking by watching Simba and Nala feeling the love tonight and scraping off his toenail polish.  No worries, he’s not Trent was just one toe.  But his pedi has lasted longer than mine.  Typical.

We had a Chinese picnic tonight.  At least that’s what L told the Panda Express lady. She was confused…but also was judging us since we ordered 9 crab rangoons for 1.5 people.  My kids love those things. Too bad they are so healthy. 

So that inspired me to make a list  of things I need to do. Random. You have been warned.

  • Hide the toilet brushes. Again. M thinks that is the same thing as a broom. THAT IS NOT THE SAME THING.
  • Clean the house with actual cleaners, not Clorox wipes. Or talk J into getting a maid.  Or invest in Clorox stock.
  • Teach L that wearing underwear in public is just the right thing to do.  The kid went commando to Panda Express.  Imagine if Panda Express lady knew that too?
  • Enjoy the fact when I break out take out ( drop the beat), L says ‘Let’s do this’ instead of groan when he does it.

Sidenote: L just said ‘I really don’t like cigars’. Shocked, I said ‘Good, because they are stinky (and well your aunt works for American Cancer Society. That would be hard to explain if her 3 year old nephew needed a good Cuban…didn’t say it but thought it…) He looks at me and said…yeah Simba isn’t stinky, right mom.  Oh…cigar was really Scar.  Took me a second.

Meanwhile, Teo is putting zebras and hippos in the fryer in the hallway.  He was supposed to be in timeout and I really need to take that fryer downstairs.   I need to pay more attention when he is in timeout.

  • We need to do more clean eating.  Less takeout and more cooking (read: Trader Joe’s).
  • Pay more attention to Wrigley…the dog was wearing a baby onesie, for goodness sake.  We took him to Nana’s for a playdate and he got lost.  I dreaded being on the news asking the public to look for a 7 lb dog in a frog baby onesie.  THAT would be embarrassing.
  • I need to appreciate L’s vocabulary.  He told his cousin, Dylan, during Christmas mass, that he needed to be quiet because this was a church, not a gymnasium.  Who knows where he got that from.  He is also currently pushing around a roller suitcase asking people what they want for lunch because he is the lunch lady who also drives the bus.  He is J’s kid.

Sidenote: I just owned L on Just Dance 2.  Who says Zumba isn’t beneficial.

  •  Look for random piles of fried rice.  This will be the first and last time we have a Chinese picnic…or a picnic eating Chinese. Either way, L is vaccuuming.
  • Pay more attention when blogging. M is fake peeing in the bathroom again.  Ugh..I mean I appreciate him fake peeing.  Honest.


Break a leg….for Christmas

The time is upon us. Sheer panic of forgetting someone, getting ‘outgifted’ (always happens to me), and running into large displays of soda….ahh the holidays.  Or maybe it’s just my holidays.  If yours are like Norman Rockwells, you can stop reading now.

Moving on….. I have ninja gift recipients. I’m not sure if this happens to everyone else, but I pretend it does so I’m not standing alone on Judgement Mountain. These are either people who are freakin’ nice who ninja gift me out of NOWHERE….(that’s not awkward) or literally people who I forgot. Not you, of course.  I’m standing on Judgement Mountain by myself, aren’t I?  J and I try. We really do. But it happens every year.  We are nothing if not a work in progress.

I discovered a secret about Pintrest. It’s for the poor man and lookey-loo’s (the lookey loo language is because I spent 12 hours with my Gram and she only said it like 18 times today).  It makes ornaments crafted out of buttons seem cute and attainable. Ha. HA.  And today,I got outgifted. With something awesome by someone awesome. Crap.

The running into the giant soda display was really my mom. She was roller derby’ed by Gram. Hilarity ensued. You had to be there.  I’m still giggling. 

Tonight, L and I were having a serious discussion about Cheez-its. Really. I’m nothing if not a teacher. I also might have taught him the ‘beans, beans, magical fruit’ song.  So I asked him if he knew what Mom was getting from Santa.  He told me I was getting a new leg.  Say what?  He said Grandpa told him Gpa was going to break my leg so Santa was getting me a new one.  That Santa. Always a giver. Now Grandpa on the other hand….I’m watching you.

Tomorrow is panic filled shopping, kid corralling (not caroling….herding), and at some point lock myself in the basement with 18 tons of wrapping paper and 18 tons of despair.  Ugh. 

Feliz Navidad!!

Pure crazy, mucus and Tita

These past few days have been pure crazy….which leads to mucus. Obviously. No worries, Tita doesn’t have mucus but I do. I know, my dear readers, these are the facts you are dying to know. Traveling suuuucks. I’m glad I’m not in dental sales or anything. Ugh. Coming back from the land of MIZ… and people snarling at my Jayhawk plates, I find myself stuffed up, coughing like an 8 pack a day-er for 15 years and perhaps not in the best of moods. Poor me, not J. Let’s make that clear.

So to make myself feel better, I decided to use our mortgage payment to shop randomly for 3 different Pintrest (damn you, Pintrest) projects. Word to the wise. Don’t do that. I got totally brain warped with what needed buttons, what needed fuzzy eyes and if self adhesive felt would make my life hard. Note: it did. So, so hard.  You should have focus when going into the ninth circle of hell that is Joann’s or Michael’s. I actually stopped in the cake aisle. To contemplate gum paste flowers for cupcakes. GUM PASTE.  It’s the strategy of Joann and her friend Michael to make me think I can do these projects, oh and it won’t take any time at all. All the blue hairs are doing it. WRONG. 12 hours, $65 bucks (don’t tell J) and a covered kitchen table proved me wrong. Freakin’ Joann. 

Amid the craft glue, 800 buttons which M thought were candy (those diapers should be interesting) and more mucus than I can shake a stick at….we conquered one project. Ok, one and a half. 

The rainbow in the craft storm is Tita. My Gram. The coolest lady….cooler than Elvis, Bob Marley and Michael Buble combined. COMBINED.   The White Cloud is arriving tonight and I am so….stuffed up. I will have to hug her from afar.  My kids will not want to leave her side and all the little animals will run from the forest into her arms…. you get the picture.  Don’t get me wrong. My mom is just as cool. So I’m stokes the genes may have merged into a weird form and perhaps I am blessed with coolness.  Maybe. Until then, I have mucus.

It’s no Gilmore Girls….

I’m not a bed and breakfast person.  It was made clear yesterday.  The details include creaky noises, dark parking lots, an actual room key (not a plastic card…weirdos), fish hanging from the walls and a toilet that didn’t flush. Yeah me. I was asked when I wanted breakfast. Not if, or what. Just when. So my brain panicked-which is never good. I have food issues. Everyone knows that. If you didn’t, now you do.  I do scrambled eggs. Not fried, poached or whatever.   I freaked…what if the breakfast has poached eggs? What if they stare at me while I eat? Why do they only cook a egg halfway? Do they have  a poptart? I hate eggs.

Honestly, I was so freaked about the breakfast issue I bolted before it was ready. I DID said goodbye…I’m not a jerk. I thought twice about buying an owl ornament. But the eggs were a bigger pull to leave.  I heart Hampton Inn.  Any bed with 8 pillows and no kid legs jabbing me in the head is a winning place in my book. I do miss my kiddos. I love skyping them and feel even better (sarcasm!!)when one is sobbing and wants his nana. Oh well. He loves me when I scramble his eggs.

Traveling for work is half fun and half ‘ugh’….the ugh category includes me driving down hwy 44 in Springfield, MO with my gas cap wildly flailing in the wind; driving past inappropriate rockets and Yakov’s head in Branson; or when the GPS dropped off my windshield and somehow nailed the gearshift perfectly so my car just shut off–P.S. I was driving at the time; and the Olive Garden server who didn’t get the memo about personal space or my issue with massive amounts of cheese. 

The fun…..Did I mention the Hampton Inn??

George is watching…..

So Turkey Day is over… and we enjoyed ourselves like we were challenged with eating our weight in food before the last day on earth, or something like that. My sil, Alison, made something she isn’t allowed to make again. Salted caramel cheesecake will ensure that I break out my maternity pants. Go ahead and judge me. It’s amazing.


We decorated our house like crazy this week. And we didn’t even touch outside. Hello Mexican Griswalds. J says he has a plan for the outside. DUN DUN DUNNNNN.   The inside is nice and festive and looks like Santa’s elves threw up snowflakes everywhere.  I was challenged between the massive amount of xmas crap I have, all the amazing ideas that are possible on other people’s homes (damn you, Pintrest), and space.  I’m pretty sure I am way over the line of classy into trashy. Oh well, my kids love it. Scratch that. L loves it. He keeps asking if today is Christmas. He is also asking if Jesus’ birthday will have cake and where Jesus’ house is.  Justin Beiber saved me on those tough questions….  and L has the attention span of an ant/3 year old.  Whew. Meanwhile, Teo is like a ninja with the ornaments on the tree. And we have lost Baby Jesus from the manger 3 times today already. No worries, he was chilling behind the credenza. No harm, no foul.


But the newest member is… no, I’m not pregnant (but if Pintrest keeps teasing me with things I never knew I needed made out of pallets and modge podge, I might change my mind). The newest member of the Faddis/Martinez/Ginestra family is George. The Elf on the Shelf.  This dude is half creepy and half …well …creepy. L already learned in school that if you are bad, Santa doesn’t bring you any presents. Thanks kids.  So each time he is in trouble, that lovely, gut wrenching line comes pouring out.  But we have been preparing him for George and that George will head home each night to tell Santa how the boys acted that day.  The best part (according to everyone else) is that you move George each night so he is found in a different place each morning. There is an actual website with 101 different ways to place him in your house!! 


Here is where Pintrest (read: Fabulous people who have the imagination to do this craziness) and I part ways.  I can barely dress myself, leaving my kids eating their cereal in my wake as I’m barreling out the door because I’m late. How will I figure out how to move him every day until Christmas? I had to set a reminder in my phone. Is that bad? That can’t be bad, right? Steve Jobs wouldn’t think that was bad.  Honestly, George looks like Jobs, sans the mock turtleneck. 


Either way, George is going on the mantel tonight. And then maybe to the left on the mantel. To the left, to the left….perhaps I can dress him in a leotard like Beyonce. Am I allowed to dress him? I’m more afraid I won’t remember where I put him.  My two big ideas are in L’s closet and in the tree. 2 days down. 23 more to go.  Awesome.

New year, new blog, or whatever…

I broke it. I broke the blog. The old one..the one who holds all my posts pre Luca, post Luca, pre Teo and now the chaos that is Teo. I’m crushed. I’ve reached out to the gods at Blogger to help me and nada. Apparently, they are all in line for the Harry Potter ride in Florida. Ugh.  I told J I broke it and he had never looked at me with more disappointment…. other than the time I forgot to buy Pine-sol and he had his heart set on washing floors. True story. 

So for now, or until one of you (or the Gods) help me fix the old blog….this will have to do.  So we are back….from outer space… I just walked in to find… Sorry. This blog makes me think I can blog-sing. This blog would be mistaken. 

Christmas is just a few weeks away. J and I haven’t even started–other than stapling lights to the house and stabbing wooden deer in the back with tomato stakes (the first one was all J…the second one might have been a suggestion from me…but also done by J). L has covered the Toy Catalog from front to back. Even today, he was contemplating if he really wanted to add a flower wheelbarrow to his list. For the love of Pete, kid. 

Tonight was the Christmas program at the boy’s school. Cue excitement all week and non stop practicing of Singing Dreidels….now cue complete shyness and me sitting with both boys who have expressions like they are about to get their last meal. Fun times. We were told Santa was arriving shortly but the attitudes of two young sprites made it necessary to exit. On the way out to the car, but what in front of our wondering eyes should appear??? Santa…in a Dodge Stratus.  Explain that one.  Go ahead.

I have to go move George now.  I barely remembered a few days ago. L woke up to find George wrapped around a wine bottle.  Bad, bad George.  

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