Bye Bye Sweet Butterfly, this blog is movin’ on

Thought it might be fun to mix it up a bit. My last day at work is May 29th; I can’t afford a new hair cut to freshen my look, so we thought we’d give the old blog a face lift.

There is no significance to the picture you see above, other than unemployment makes me want to drink Sambuca. Actually, what you are seeing are two tired parents who hit the sack before finishing our new template. It will be updated as well…after a good night sleep and I do some proper begging of my IT-gifted husband (whom engineered everything you see).

My favorite new piece is the “Play of the Day” on the left sidebar: another great idea from the Daddee. I’ll be sharing creative play ideas that I guarantee will be simple. Ana Paula and I agreed today: play books for toddlers suck. Every game includes the gathering of 7 items, 5 of which we never have. Because I have time to gather paper plates, markers, pipe cleaners, 2 different kinds of glue, dowel rods that are exactly 3.5 inches long, and hair from the neighbor’s dog? No, the only thing I even have on that list is Hunter’s hair. He asked for it.

Most of the ideas will probably make you wonder why God ever gave me children, but as a person who faces the daily struggle of how to teach these kids ANYTHING, entertain them, and simultaneously drain them of toxic levels of energy…I am on the constant look out for things that achieve at least one of these goals.

Please share your ideas with me via comments, add a new twist to an idea, or just warn me that you’ve contacted Social Services. I’ll put up the baby gates to impress them while they “visit”. Please leave us a comment about the new look. It feels urban to me. If I’m going to live in this giant haystack of a state, my blog should enjoy some big city flavor.

Speaking of big city: did you hear we got the 2012 Super Bowl?! OMG! We’re REAL! And it should be a rockin’ good time, because if there is anything that Indiana will do to you in January, it’s drive you to drink. Just to numb yourself from the arctic cold. No, really. It’s freakin’ cold here in January. They can build all the fire pits they want, but we’re geographical proof that global warming is horse…hockey. See Amie? I’m ALMOST not cursing. I said horse shit in my head. Oops. Sorry. I was almost there. Damnit! Oh hell, I’m going to bed.