Follow Me

The final box is packed, the windows are shut tight, and I’m turning out the lights.

Thanks for reading along with me, and I am hoping that you’ll want to continue!

Follow me to

I thought I’d get it up and transitioned faster, but I keep forgetting that I have 4 kids, and two different school schedules, and a husband who was out of town…

Feel free to add it to your rss feed if you’d like, and hopefully I’ll see you there!

Thanks for reading! Hannah


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I was a little surprised to find myself so ready to write this post. I suppose I’ve been delaying it for some time, but I realize I’ve reached the end of what I set out to do. My husband started this blog for me almost 3 years ago when I emailed him a silly story I’d written about being a mom. Reluctantly, I began writing, began working to find my voice, to find myself. Along the way I realized I’d begun to weave a story, and today I realized that I have accomplished what I set out to do.

So, I suppose this is where the chapter ends, the book closes, and a new adventure begins. Thank you so much for reading with me, for encouraging me, and for being the sounding board that listened to my story.

Salud, may God bless you, thank you, and farewell.



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Are you (in)Sane yet?

The Entertainer is such a funny little boy.

Just recently he has started asking a lot of questions about the past, and about the future.

Questions that start with, “Mommy, when you were a little boy, did you ever…”

Or, “when I grow up to be a big lady, I am going to get a motorcycle!”

And most recently, “When I’m a mommy, I’m going to go on dates with Grandma, and Papa, and Uncle John, and Uncle Jesse.”

To which the Adventurer chimes, “What about Uncle EJ, and Uncle Luke, and Grandma Darlene?”

“Ya, I’m going to go on dates with them too, when I’m a mommy.” He replies.

“You mean when you are a daddy.” The Adventurer corrects.

“NO! I’m not going to be a daddy, I’m going to be a MOMMY when I’m big!”

At which point, I am reminded once again why moms are some of the craziest people you’ll ever meet. It is hard to stay sane when two-year-old rationality rules your world. I wish I would have known that back when I was a little boy…

Salud! H


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Dear Old Navy,

I love you for lying to me.

When I wake up in the morning, and I have my choice of jeans to pull on, I choose yours. Sure, it’s partially because they are cute, and I like the way they fit, but mostly, it’s because while all my other pants say “size 8,” you say, “size 4.”

Sure, I know it’s a lie. I know it is a terribly delightful mistake that just happen to land in my favor, but I still love you for it.

In fact, your shameless lies were so convincing, that when I went swim suit shopping today, I tried on a size 6 bikini. There isn’t a lot of that story worth retelling, except that my two-year old shouted, “EWW! GROSS MOMMY! THAT LOOKS DISGUSTING!” And that I left the store with a size 10 one-piece in my shopping bag. But it was all ok, because my bum was encased with pants that read “size 4” on the label.

So when I am at the beach, playing with my kids in my new red suit, guess what will be perfectly strewn on my beach chair? You guessed it, my size 4 Old Navy jeans, maybe with giant magnifier glass over the label, just so that anyone who’s curious can see.

I love you Old Navy for lying to me. And I REALLY love you for being so darn convincing. -H


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Vacuum Wars

Today I stopped to vacuum out my van. I know, THE HORROR! And since it’s been bout 3 months since the last time I graced the vacuum place with my presence… well you can imagine.

The only place I could think of that was close to my house is in an area that is a wee tad scetchy. Ok, it’s actually a lot of scetchy. But it was close, and I had time, so I figured what the heck. Lets do it.

As I plopped my quarters into the machine, turned on a dvd for the kids to watch, and started sucking up a thick layer of who knows what, I thought to my self, what if someone tries to car jack me? I began going through mental negotiations, ok you can have my car, but let me take my kids out. I’m going to need a stroller, too, so that I can walk home- oh, and did you want the bar of solid gold I keep in my trunk? Here, let me show you where it is… right under this floor mat that the Adventurer puked all over! Ah-ha! And then I would thrust it in their face and make a run for it. (hmm… I need to blog about that floor mat…)

But, I wasn’t to worried about car jackers, even though my line of sight was blocked by two rows of stow-and-go seating and tinted windows, because I have a three-pronged-anti-car-jacking-theory.

1. Make eye contact and smile at everyone who walks by like they are your best friend. (this also works when my momma-driving-skills piss people off on the interstate, but in that instance it also includes a big wave and a “tell your mother I said hello!” expression. I figure it is hard to shoot someone your mother just might know…)

2. I haven’t done a very good job with keeping up with my “thug facts” recently, but unless the recession is really hitting them hard, and gangsters are having to start carpooling to their hits, I don’t think that they are to interested in mini-vans. Especially ones equipped with infant seat, toddler seat, child seat, and what appears to be the remnants of a 7-layer-bean-burrito.

3. It was 8:20 in the morning. I could be mistaken, but I’m pretty sure that 8 am to a car-jacking-thug is the equivalent to 3 am for me.

So I figured that unless an early rising, over-achieving, recession affected thug, who rolled with two midget ganstas and a baby with a preference for day-old-mexican food in his posse, happened to be strolling by at that very moment, with his momma who verified that she indeed did not know that crazy woman smiling and waving like an idiot, I was good.

My three minutes of rapid suctioning quickly expired, and having run out of quarters before I ran out of crumbs, I hopped back into my van, and turned the engine on.

At least I tried to turn the engine on.

There was some sputtering, some crazy clicking, and two little boys yelling, “Hey, we wanted to see Lightning McQueen race Doc! Turn the movie back on mom!”

And I have to say, when you are vacuuming your car in the ghetto, with your hind-side hanging out a sliding door, it is much less intimidating than when you are stuck in a parking lot, having to witness the ghetto. A call to Brandon, to my mom, and to Geico Road-Side service, made sure that if I was car-jacked, I had a triangulation of help coming from three different sides. And then I started wondering how I would explain to super thug that he was welcome to my vehicle, but he was going to have to give me a jump first.

And then I was really embarrassed that I hadn’t washed my van before I vacuumed it, because now the tow-guy was going to see how dirty it was on the outside.

15 minutes later, Brandon shows up, checks the oil, turns the key, and starts the car. Unbelievable. The tow-guy rapidly pulls into the parking lot shortly afterward, and tells me that he is going to follow me out of the lot because, “this is a really bad part of town,” and I’m like, “well I only live 5 minutes from here so you’re making me kinda nervous…” And of course my mom showed up right after him, so by that time, I was wondering how anyone could even pull into the wash to work on their own car, because MY posse had already filled up all the spaces.

The moral of this really long story?

ALWAYS wash your car BEFORE you vacuum it. That way, if it dies, at least it’ll be shiny when you call a tow-truck.

And smile at gangsters. I think. I actually only saw really nice people. I think the thugs were still sleeping off some good times.

Salud! H


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Lilly Ballerina

I think Lilly is going to be a dancer. Either that, or she REALLY likes baby food. When she isn’t lifting her leg over her head (I wish I was that flexible!), she is literally dancing for her dinner. As soon as she is in her high chair, the dancing begins; arms waving, head bopping, soft little feathery hair swaying to an imaginary beat. And then she takes a bite, claps for herself, and starts dancing again. Sure, there have been a couple of noggin-crashes into the table, but for the most part, she is a very graceful girl! I love watching my little Lilly-Ballerina’s personality blossom. What a delight she is to our family!

Salud! H


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Wew! It seems like things have been so busy lately that my blog has become more of an escape to being Hannah, and less of a story about my kids. But, sometimes motherhood is like that.

But, I have big news: I am now a “Little League Mom.”

So, I know you must be DIEING for the run down of the absolute cutest t-ball game ever, right? Heck, you’ve wasted time reading this far, you might as well indulge.

Well, first of all, we managed to get pregnant and birth two brothers at just the right time of year for them to be on the same team together. It would be miserable if that hadn’t happened. One mom has 5 sons- all on different teams. I don’t think I would survive that. Anyways, it has been the Adventurer’s life long dream (of almost 5 years!) to be a baseball player. And when he signed up, the Captain decided he might as well too, and wa-la, I just found out that yes, my life could still get busier!

We have the most wonderful, laid-back coach. He just wants the kids to have a good time, to learn the fundamentals, and to enjoy themselves. Maybe he is a little to laid back. Until just before the game, there were only four kids. Two were mine. One was the coach’s. The other is going on to the major leagues. The team we were playing against had all 12 kids, in uniform, matching socks, standing in a circle, practicing their catching, playing like they’d been together since they were in the maternity ward.

“This doesn’t look good. They’re a lot better than us. I think we are going to loose.” Says the mom of the kid going to the big leagues.

“Eh.” I say. “I played soccer growing up. Our team ALWAYS lost. I’ve already resolved myself to the fact that my kids will have the same experience. I don’t care, as long as they have fun. They’re just learning the fundamentals.” She recoiled like I’d just thrown a snake in her face. And then I felt bad for crushing her dreams.

Anyways, my boys did GREAT!!! The Captain can lob the ball like nobody’s business. He threw it over the fence a couple of times. His coach asked later, “What did you like playing better, first base or third?” The Captain said, “Third.” The coach said, “That’s good. You’re the only one on our team who can throw it from third to first.” The Captain also hit a home run. Maybe not so much as a home run as a really good hit to the edge of the field, were two members of the opposing team got to the ball at the same time, began wrestling each other, and put each other in matching head-locks, while the Captain circled all three bases. It was hysterical.

The Adventure did really good too! He also scored a couple of runs, despite the helmet being a little to big for his head. (The first time in his life that has ever happened, I can assure you!) During one play, he was waiting on second, and he forgot to run to third when his team mate hit the ball. He got thrown out at third, and while he was still chilling with his buddy on second, the ref told him to go to the dug-out. He was STOKED. After the game he tells me, “Mom, did you see my home run?!?! I hit it so good that the guy told me I didn’t even have to wait to go home. It was AWESOME!!!” He was so cute.

There was another little boy who scored a run and just kept on going, until he got back to first. And another who realized he was going to get thrown out at home, so he hooked a U and headed back to second base, where it was safer. I love Little League! I think some of my fondest memories will be at that field.

In the end, the score was 26-16. (We lost. But the kids still don’t know anyone was even keeping score.) It was their best day ever.

Ok, I’m done gushing. It was nice to have such a fun day in the midst of the madness. I love my sweet boys! And my sweet girl too, of course.

Salud! And happy hitting. H



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