Anatomy Of My Evening

Mama (me) has a migraine with nausea, The Husband is working until 9, the kids became unruly around 5:00 so I sent them into the backyard while I made dinner, they covered themselves with dirt (I kid you not, they didn't even look Caucasian), I put them into a bath before dinner, one of them pooped into the tub, I picked up the poop while fishing around for the washcloth, they both pitched a screaming fit (remember migraine) when I had to give them a shower, then they lost ice cream dessert privileges due to repeatedly not listening, cue another screaming fit. I presently gave them a dose of Benadyrl (for mosquito bites, not to sedate them, I would never, never sedate my angels) and am starting bedtime at 6:50. Goodnight to all.

Pushing the Limits

How did I get two children who don't know how to listen? I was such a good kid, so afraid to get in trouble and disappoint my parents. My two, wonderful and sweet as they are, test the limits throughout the day, each and every day. You know the expression "give an inch and they'll take a mile?" Well, with mine, you don't have to give an inch and they'll still take a mile. I guess this means they feel secure with me? Can I put that positive spin on it? I'm guessing their strong wills will do them good when they're older, they'll be a bit bold, think for themselves, and hopefully stand up for themselves. Right now, though, when they're both little and in need of rules and structure, it's driving their mama nuts.

Love you BG and LM.

Fear

I always feel a tightness in my chest and just a twinge of fear whenever my three most loved people in the world climb into a car together and drive off. Even if it is only for a quick trip to The Home Depot, as it is tonight. I pray that God keeps them safe and protected while they are away. Sometimes I wonder if that fear that I have makes me strange in any way, but somehow I don't think it does.

Gross and Cute

The kids and I accidentally left a sippy-cup full of milk in the car. It's May and we live in the South. My car smells so very, very, bad, and the sippy-cup is in the garbage can.

Sippy-Cup = 1; Mom = 0

Baby Girl wore her hair in pig tails for the first time yesterday. Adorable! She keeps asking to look in the mirror and she gently runs her hand down the ponytail. I love that little girl. :)

Bits and Pieces

For the past week, Baby Girl (30 months old) has been calling me "Mom." I'm not a fan of this new development.

Little Man went home with Grandma to spend the night right after we bought his new light-up tennis shoes. Grandma called last night to say that she and Little Man turned out all the lights in her house and were having a good time stomping around and making the lights on the shoe light up. She said he was so very happy to finally have his shoes, and that his smile over them was priceless. Makes a momma happy.

Blogger has been having problems lately. Both yesterday and today I had ideas to blog about, the time to blog, and the desire to blog, all at the same time, which almost never happens. So I try to log on and write, and....CAN'T. Go figure.

Baby Girl has a new bad habit. During mealtime, she will take a bite, chew it up, then spit it out on her plate and say, "I don't like it." It's gross and irritation, she really isn't eating much, just chewing and spitting. Hopefully this phase will pass soon.

On a cute note, yesterday I was sitting in my bedroom folding clothes, and Baby Girl rounded the corner with her pretend birthday cake in hand, held it out to me and yelled, "Supwise!" She didn't just say it, either, but sort of jumped and threw her arms out, very energetic and very cute. Later on in the day while I was cleaning the real kitchen she decided she needed to clean her play kitchen. And she did. Very thoroughly and methodically. I think she may have gotten my cleaning bug, oh my. ;)

I just remembered this from our family vacation to Chattanooga. In our first hotel, we checked in and got somewhat settled when we realized that we were in a handicapped accessible room, which meant no bathtub. Having two small children and having no bathtub don't really go together, so we requested another room. A few days later, Little Man goes, "I want to go back to the candy happy room." It took us a few minutes but we figured it out - handicapped got switched around to candy happy. Cute. That's also how Monger got her name. :)

(Blogger is acting up again and won't let me spell check. Spelling is not my strong suit so I'm sure this is full or errors, please ignore.)

They Fight Sleep Like No Others

My kids, do, that is. Today Mama really wanted them to take a nap. It was one of those days that a mom counts down the minutes to a few minutes of freedom. I'm fighting some sort of bug, or allergy, or who knows what, all I know is I don't feel well. Also, I stayed up half the night because we were supposed to have really bad weather (when even the down to earth, nonchalant weather forecaster says it's going to be bad, I begin to worry, and he said things could get ugly.) So when I woke up at 2:30 a.m. and heard the winds picking up, I thought maybe I should check it out. So I went into the den to see what was going on, only to see - nothing. I was, however, wide awake. So I wait about an hour thinking I would get sleepy, but by that time weather was getting closer and the forecasters were on TV. Thankfully the tornado-producing thunderstorms petered out just as they were about to hit. I didn't even have to bring Baby Girl downstairs, all right! I was eternally grateful that I was climbing into my bed instead of the tornado closet but I was also oh so tired. Which brings me to nap time. Baby Girl wasn't having it. She fought from 12:30 until 2:00. Yep. And Little Man never did take a nap, although I somehow convinced him to stay in his room for an hour. All in all it was long enough to make a phone call to the school about next year and research and sign up for swim lessons for Little Man. Just as I was thinking about a catnap the beasts were awake. Oh well there's always an early bed time, right? Right. :)

Brown Water Can Put A Crimp In Your Day

Wow, wow, wow. I'm having a really hard time with the kids today. I'm not sure what it is, but they have been so high-maintenance lately. They've been a bit needy, too, but I expect that and that's ok considering what happened last week. That's not what I'm talking about. What I'm talking about it that I set them up with crayons so I can do the dishes or start dinner and two minutes into it they want play-doh. Or I get Little Man set up with the wii and two minutes into it he's throwing a huge fit because he wants to go to a different level or play a different character and he needs my help to do that. And they do it again and again (and I don't mean that I ignore them while doing this, either, or that I do this after being busy all day). Seriously, kids, I used to get pushed out the door into the backyard and told, "Do something," when my parents needed a few minutes to accomplish something. I know this is a phase, but getting constantly interrupted is not something I handle very well. I'm working on it, I've improved so much, even The Husband says so, but having a few simple items on my to-do list (like make dinner so we can eat, swish the toilets so they aren't nasty, or load the dishwasher to we're not looking at piles of dishes - I know better than to expect to do something complicated like organize or paint a room) and not getting them done without ten (or twenty) interruptions drives me insane. Literally. I lose it. Literally, the doctor gave me a prescription for happy pills this week. Which I haven't filled and may not fill, but it's nice to know they're there if I need them. Today was one of those mornings, where nothing got done. I was handling it great, though, I really was. I managed to not sweat the small stuff, and was happy that I even started a load of dishes and managed to wash two loads of laundry. Then I decided to give the kids a bath before lunch, they both needed one last night but due to pooping issues one child didn't get one. I figured I'd put them both in the bath and they could play and have fun as they love the bath. So I go to run the water, and it's brown. Dark brown. Oh gross, what the heck is this? Ok, no bath for the kids. And oh crap the load of dishes and two loads of laundry that I just washed in dirty brown water. Nice. I think that kind of flipped a switch for me. I turned into grumpy mommy, not so nice mommy, please sit and watch a cartoon, or three, so mommy can have a small mental break and regroup. So I call the utility company to ask what might the problem be and they have no idea. They said to flush each toilet five times every fifteen minutes for an hour, and if that doesn't fix the problem to call back. Wow, as if I didn't have anything better to do than spend five minutes out of each 15 flushing toilets. Which I guess I didn't, as we need clean water instead of nasty brown stuff. So an hour and another phone call later I find out that the fire department was out flushing the hydrant down the street, and that can send dirt into the pipes for a few hours. Ok, no big deal, I get it. I'll wash the dishes and clothes again, take a shower and give baths this afternoon instead of this morning. No big deal. I just wish my heart would stop beating so fast, and that the panicky feeling would leave. It's 1:00 now, is it too early for a glass of wine? Just kidding, sort of. :)

A Rite of Passage - Yes, Another One

Last night was the scariest night of my life. It sounds dramatic, but it's true. Last night I faced head on the fact that one of my babies might not be okay. Thankfully, blessedly, she is okay, but for a few minutes I was literally scared to death. The day started out normally enough. Baby Girl had been sick, again, with what seemed to be either another cold or allergies. I don't even take her to the doctor for these anymore, if I did we would be at the doctor every week, and all they can do is tell me how to best keep her comfortable - again. Around dinner time The Husband really noticed that Baby Girl was wheezing. She had been tired and needy all afternoon, and wanted nothing more than to be held and cuddled. "Sleep on Mommy, Sleep on Daddy," is what she would say. Anyway, I gave her the cold medicine the pediatrician recommended earlier in the week and began to get her ready for bed. I noticed really quickly that something wasn't quite right, but I couldn't put my finger on it. The Husband had taken Little Man out into the front yard so he could burn off some energy before bed, but I thought they were out for a walk. Anyway, I didn't have anyone to consult with, so without much thought I decided to call the pediatrician. It was about 7:30 on a Sunday night. I left a message with the answering service, who promised me a nurse would call back within 3o minutes. Meanwhile, the way Baby Girl was breathing reminded me of when she had croup a few months ago. It was hot outside last night, so all I could think to do was open the freezer door and sit with Baby Girl in my lap, hoping the cold air would help her breathe a bit better. We sat there for about 15 minutes before the nurse called back, and after listening to me describe Baby Girl's symptoms she recommended to go to the urgent care center. We had to hurry, the center is about 2o minutes away and they closed in 55 minutes. So I go outside to find The Husband, I tell him our plans, and I hurry to get dressed. Yes, I was already in my pjs, I also needed a shower but was waiting on the kids to go to bed first. I knew the shower had to wait. As I was getting dressed things went downhill fast. Baby Girl started really laboring hard to breathe. The Husband, who has asthma, ran into the bathroom and told me to hurry, not to worry about packing a bag full of things to keep Baby Girl occupied, just to hurry! He said that he was going with us, that her breathing had gotten even worse and it wasn't safe to put her without an extra adult to attend to her. At that point, we ran out the door. Literally. Baby Girl didn't even have on shoes or socks. Little Man was with us, we didn't grab a sippy or a toy for him. We just left. I sat in the backseat next to Baby Girl and The Husband handed me his inhaler and says, "She's about to lock up, give her this." I don't, I didn't want to give her an adult dose, it didn't seem like it was that bad yet, but I held on tight to the inhaler. I sang songs to help keep my little girl happy and calm, and it worked. She was all smiles, even through she was obviously struggling to perform the most basic function - breathing. About half way to the center, I became really scared. Baby Girl was smiling, but there was a look in her eyes, it seemed almost like panic. She was trying to sing, but she couldn't. Her voice kept coming out almost like a gurgle. It was absolutely terrifying. I almost lost it. I imagined the worst, although i was trying hard not to. I had to keep it together, struggle that it was, because my main goal was to keep her calm so she could breathe easier. Little Man was the sweetest big brother. He knew something big was up, and he just kept singing with me, asking his little sister what song she wanted next after we finished one. I just love him, and her! They are the most wonderful children!After the longest drive in history, we finally made it to the urgent care center. I unbuckled Baby Girl from her car seat and didn't even wait until the car had completely stopped rolling before we were out the door. I walked right up to the front desk and said, "She's been wheezing, it's getting worse, and she's really struggling to breathe." The nurses stopped doing vitals on another child and immediately started working on Baby Girl. That poor other child, a small part of me felt bad about that, although I knew it was necessary. They walked us back to a room even as they listened to her lungs. They didn't even ask us her name, or for an insurance card or anything. I was so relieved and scared at the same time from their response. We were literally back in a room with an oxygen mask strapped to her face before The Husband and Little Man had a chance to walk in the front door. They ended up giving Baby Girl two breathing treatments, which helped her tremendously. The oxygen mask they gave her was shaped like a dinosaur, it had pink horns and feathers. Baby Girl loved it, touched it, said, "Roar," and laughed. Oh, my heart, I love you so much. After two breathing treatments her oxygen was at 95%. Not good enough to go home. The urgent care center was about to close, so they told us we would have to go to the hospital with her. In fact, they said she wasn't stable enough to go by car, because the breathing treatments might wear off, and she was still struggling to breathe and had a 95% rate even with an oxygen mask. So by ambulance we go. The fire department ended up showing up, which was pretty cool for Little Man, I just hope he didn't feel too left out that he didn't get to ride in the back with his mommy and sister. We were on our way to the ER, our first ER visit since becoming parents. While waiting for the ambulance, I joked with The Husband that we had done pretty good, we'd been parents for 4 1/2 years and were only now going to the ER. Also while waiting I called mom and asked her to meet The Husband and Little Man at the house, so The Husband could then meet us at the hospital. I felt bad asking her, she had just driven to Arkansas to see my grandmother who is in the hospital, and road trips are really bad on mom's back, but I didn't know what else to do. I also text my friend who is an ER nurse at the children's hospital. She wasn't working last night, and we were disappointed about that, but she called ahead of time and let them know we were VIPs. ;) So, the ambulance ride - it was pretty cute. Baby Girl was all hopped up on drugs at this point, and she was loving all the special attention. The ambulance has a special seat that folds down and turns into a car seat with a harness. So she was sitting up high in the seat, she had her pink dinosaur mask on, an O2 monitor on her finger, and a tiny little blood pressure cuff on her arm. Did I mention she was barefoot? I think I did. She was flirting with the EMT, extending her foot over to him, and saying, "Tippy toes." Actually she doesn't say tippy toes, but thankfully she had her mask on so the EMT didn't realize what she was really saying! Throughout the ride her eyes would get big and she'd say, "Oh, noisy!" and "Oh, bumpy!" It was very noisy and bumpy, riding in that big box is a lot different than riding in the back of a car! I debated taking a picture of her, she was so cute, and thankfully she had been stable for a while by that point. I didn't do it, though, it just seemed wrong to pull out my phone and snap a picture during all of this. We finally arrived at the hospital, escorted by two firemen/EMTs, and we had to do a quick check-in. At this point, the novelty had worn off for Baby Girl and she started acting out, not that I blame her. It was about 10:00, maybe 10:30 at night, so it was way past her bedtime, and she had lots of medicine coursing through her body. She was throwing her giraffe, her blanket, pulling things out of my purse and throwing them as well. The staff took it in stride, I'm sure they've seen all kinds of things from sick kids. Anyway, we got into a room right away, I'm not sure if it was due to the firemen escorts or the phone call from my friend Kelly. Maybe a combination of both, thank you, Kelly! Two nurses come in and hook her up again, heart leads, O2 monitor, but no oxygen this time. Baby Girl is relieved, she doesn't want anything to do with that dinosaur face mask at this point! All her stats look good, a sweet nurse brings her a toy and some books, and we wait for Daddy and the doctor. I crawl up onto that hospital bed and snuggle my Baby Girl. I felt like I almost lost her. I know that may sound dramatic, and I may have been dramatic, but that's how I felt. To see her struggle so hard for every breath and then to see her doing so well, asking for a red popsicle and beaming when she got it - Wow. I hope we're never that scared for the well-being of our children ever again. It has to be the worst feeling ever. Anyway, time goes by and we were seen by the doctors, she had a chest x-ray, which was fine, we get our medicines, and we go home. It's about 12:00 at this point. That's probably the quickest ER visit known to man, again - Thank you, Kelly! We arrive home with a Baby Girl who is WIRED! She keep rolling her head around and laughing. She even shook her head from side to side to make her hair fly. The nurse at the hospital saw that, snorted, and said, "Good luck tonight." We say goodbye to Gram, go upstairs to kiss Little Man goodnight, and try to go to bed. Yeah right! We end up watching two cartoons and then we just turned out the light. Baby Girl tossed and turned for a good bit but finally went to sleep. I wish I could say the same for me, did I doze - yes, sleep - no. Oh well, it isn't the first night of fitful sleep for this mama and I'm sure it won't be the last. Sweet Baby Girl was much better this morning, we woke up on the couch, I guess we fell asleep there after having to give her a hit off the inhaler at 5:00 am. What a night. I am so thankful, relieved, and happy that Baby Girl is all right, but I feel like I've run a marathon. My poor momma heart almost couldn't take it. Saying lots of prayers of thanks tonight. Thank you for igniting my momma instinct and getting me to call the doctor, thank you for igniting the daddy instinct and having him hurry us along. Thank you for modern medicine, and an almost empty waiting room. Thank you for family to take care of Little Man and make him feel safe and secure. Thank you for a wonderful husband who knows only how to be an amazing father. Thank you for the great response Baby Girl had to treatment. Thank you for her good spirits throughout the entire ordeal. Thank you for keeping her safe. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

New Mom Registry Woes

I love looking at the gift registries of new moms. Sometimes they are absolutely freaking hilarious! Don't worry, I'm not passing judgement, I was a new mom once, too. I'm sure if the veteran, seasoned mom that I am now was able to travel back in time and take a peek at my old registry (as if, if I could time travel I wouldn't waste it to do something so lame, maybe to be that new mom again, but reviewing my registry -no) I would probably get a few laughs at myself as well. I looked up the registry of a friend today, she's expecting her first baby this summer. Here are a few standouts- 40 pairs of socks, 32 of them white, all sized 0-6 months!! Holy Batman, you will lose a few socks, but not nearly that many! An 8-pack of white is all you need, if you're adventurous you can add an 8-pack of colored socks, too. 5 packs of 152 sized-1 diapers! I will admit, this is much better than registering for umpteen newborn diapers, which always makes me cringe. My firstborn skipped the newborn size all together, and was out of size 1 at about a month and a half. At least diapers are easy to exchange for another size. A complete coordinating layette, you know, onesies, pants, shorts, little shirts, mittens, hats, and, yes, more socks (I didn't count these socks in the original 40 pair), that comes in a boxed set. Plus, four packs of bodysuits and a handful of outfits. All cute. Cute, cute, cute, but all sized 9 months and smaller. The baby doesn't really need all that much to wear. Really. A few layette items will do, as well as a few "going out" things. I know my kids often wore the same few outfits over and again, and they had a lot of brand new, with tags items hanging in the closet. This is definitely a case of less is more. Also, after having my showers for my first child, I realized that it was pointless to register for clothes. People love to buy baby clothes, you will get them by the bucketfulls, and it won't be what you registered for anyway. Often a good thing, as my kids received some cute and unexpected clothes! 8 hooded towels. Yes, eight. This one really had me rolling. Eight! What are you going to do with all of them? When you have a newborn or an infant, heck, even a toddler or preschooler, you do laundry EVERY DAY. When you're super busy you put it off to every other day, but still, you're always doing laundry. So two hooded towels should be just fine. :) Again, I'm not passing judgement, although I realize to some this may sound like a real b*tchy post. It's not!! I would never, never say anything to a friend in real life, or even write this if there were any way anyone could figure out who I'm referring to. I just got a laugh and thought I would share. It's just the perspective of a mom whose been there a time or two. :)

Rite of Passage

I feel like Little Man and I have experienced a parental rite of passage together. Yesterday Baby Girl and I sat in carpool line, picked Little Man up, and headed home. We weren't but a few yards from the school property, (and a good 10 minutes from home) when I heard Little Man say, "I feel like I'm gonna throw up." Uh-oh. I didn't think much of it, he looked fine, but still I hit the gas a little bit. It wasn't but a few seconds later, though, that IT happened. Buckets of IT. Lots and lots of IT. Everywhere. I didn't have so much as a kleenex to help clean Little Man up. I did manage to spot a wayward sock in my passenger seat. I usually don't keep random things in my car, but I had recently bought new running shoes and packed a pair of socks, and I guess one fell out of my purse and onto the seat. We used that to wipe up his face, but the rest of him, his booster seat, under and behind the booster seat, the floor - covered. He was wearing a rain jacket, but nevertheless the two layers he had on under it were soaked. His underthings and socks were even soaked. Am I giving you enough of a visual image? It's an understatement to say that it was gross and disgusting. Anyway, we made it home okay. I kept asking Little Man if he was all right, or if he could wipe his face. Poor thing couldn't even talk, he just kept replying with noises, "Uhhhhhhhhhh." I got the nasty clothes off and in the wash, and got my sweet thing settled on the couch. My dear, sweet, wonderful husband came home after a long day's work and cleaned out my car. If that's not love, I don't know what is. Little Man was fine after about an hour. He's been a bit, um, backed up this week, and I think that's what the problem is. I don't think he has a bug or anything. I've kept him home from school today and am giving him lots of juice, fruit, and a bit of medicine. Hopefully he will find relief soon, and for both our sakes I hope it comes out the right end. :)

One Day

Wow, we are having one of those days. Actually, it's probably just me, but it seems like we've "had one of those days" for several days in a row now. The kids are doing crazy stuff. Actually, it's probably just normal kid's stuff, but mercy! Seriously. I know that one day my house will be clean, and quiet, will stay clean, and be mostly clutter-free. I know that one day I will be able to finish a simple task quickly, without an interruption (or twenty), and that I will easily be able to check off everything on my to-do list. I know that. I tell myself that when it takes me 20 MINUTES to unload the dishwasher, because I'm constantly having to stop and attend to something the kids need. Even though I set them up with a game, or colors, a book, or even a cartoon beforehand. One day I'll be able to cook dinner without a toddler literally hanging off my leg, and often repeatedly pulling down my pants in the process, saying, "Hold you, hold you" over and over again. And without a preschooler crying and throwing a fit because a toy isn't working right, or he wants to do something that requires grownup hands and my hands are busy at the stove. One day everyone will eat the meals that I cook, and enjoy it, instead of taking one look at something they loved yesterday, grimacing, and saying, "I dooonn't like it." One day everyone will go to bed without a tantrum, or without dragging the process out to 2 HOURS with "I have to go to the bathroom (when they don't), or "I need a drink of water", or whatever comes to mind to drag out bedtime for 5 more minutes. One day the The Husband and I will have enough energy after the bedtime process to have a real conversation. As it is, we have several pressing family matters that need attending to, but since one of us passes out before the other finishes making sure Little Man is asleep and won't come running downstairs the second we make it down ourselves, those important conversations aren't happening. One day. Oh, I know that this time is fleeting, and I'm not wishing it away. Truly I'm not. There's a big part of me that wants them to stay little forever. I know that soon enough they'll be rolling their eyes at me, and saying, "Mo-om" at everything I say or do. Soon enough they'll think I'm a do-do and don't know anything about anything. Then they'll go to college, leave, get married...my house will be clean and quiet....and I will miss them so much. I will miss this so much. I know that. This is just a little vent. Sometimes it's hard that I feel like I never get anything done, and that my house is always a mess, even though I clean everyday. Sometimes it's just frustrating. But it's so rewarding, and lovely. I love my kids! I am SO BLESSED!! There isn't anywhere else I'd rather be. I am so very, very, very thankful that I am able to stay home with my precious gifts, my two slices of heaven. Some days, like today, I just need to remind myself of that.

Aw, Dammit

From Baby Girl today -

"Aw, dammit!" - in an entirely appropriate context. I wonder who taught her that phrase? Hmm, I think I'm guilty of that one.

...and I'm about to enjoy nap time. After a few days of go, go, go and very little rest or sleep at night, I'm going to put the kids down for a nap, sit on my bed, eat my lunch, and watch my DVR. Heaven.

This and That

It seems like we've been so busy lately. I'm not really sure what we've actually been actually doing, but it's taking up all our time! One thing I know that's a time eater is The Husband's work schedule. True, he is self-employed and gets to set his own schedule, but for someone like him that just means he works, and works, and works. Lately it's been 11-12 hour days, six days a week. It's been hard. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, I'm so glad he has a great work ethic and is working so hard to provide for his family. That's not lip service, I really, really am grateful. His hard work allows me to stay home with the kids and do things like journal our lives via a blog, take the kids to Aardvark classes, and be a part of Little Man's school community. I am forever grateful that I get to do these things during this season of my life. Like I said, though, it's been hard. The kids have had dinner, bath, and stories by the time Daddy gets home, and by that time momma and daddy are exhausted. The good news, though, is that Hubs is working towards a goal! We are hoping to move this summer!! Whoo hoo! I can't tell you how excited that makes me. I love our little house, and our neighborhood, but it's time to move on. I'm ready. We had a realtor come look at the house last week and give us a list of things we need to do to prepare to list the house. After a week of thinking on it, the Hubs gave the green light to go ahead and proceed. The Hubs needs time to mull things over, lol! Anyway, hopefully by the end of the summer we will have sold our house, bought a house, and have a move under our belts!

On another note, here are a few cute things from Baby Girl -

She loves her Woody and Jesse dolls. She calls Woody, "Boody." Adorable. Yesterday we were riding in the car, and she was clutching "Boody" and Jesse to her chest, and said possessively, "These are MY kids!" Over and over she kept calling them, "my kids." So sweet. She's also in love with her toes. She talks about her toes all day long. Tippy toes, tippy toes. Only she doesn't say, "tippy toes." Use your imagination, but what she says sounds a little dirty, as "tippy" is a hard word for a two-year-old to say!

That's about all. Little Man's year of pre-k is almost over, I can't believe it! We are on spring break this week. The Hubs is planning on taking a day off (hallelujah!) and we might go camping overnight at a campsite that's only 30 min from home. I hope it works out, that would be so much fun!

Hmmm

I just spent an unplanned half an hour washing walls and door. Let's see, mustard, purple popsicle, dried crackers, and lots of unidentifiable stains and morsels.

The kids eat at our kitchen table or the breakfast bar, except for maybe a bowl full of grapes or goldfish.

How???

Making cookies and freshly vacuumed floors

It's a cold, rainy day around here, so after Baby Girl and I picked up Little Man from school we decided to make cookies to help pass the time. The disasters that followed are worthy of a comedy routine. In fact I'm writing them down so that one day I might sell them to fund my retirement. Here goes...

Little Man cracked the egg, then, due to the slippery nature of a cracked egg, he dropped it onto the counter, where it dripped onto the drawers, cabinet doors, and floor.


Baby Girl knocked over the bowl full of dry ingredients.


Baby Girl was constantly trying to get into the flour, baking soda, honey, and anything else that would make a royal mess.


I substituted honey for maple syrup. The honey taste is overpowering, and the affect is that the cookies taste like a spoonful of honey.


Evidently I sat my bag of chocolate chips too close to the hot stove the last time I used them. Most of the chocolate chips had melted together into one big chocolate mass.


Baby Girl kept reaching for chocolate chips while I was chopping up the big chocolate mass with a huge, sharp knife.


And lastly, as I was putting the cookies into the oven, I tipped the baking sheet a little too much, and all the cookies on that pan slid onto the bottom of the oven, where they immediately melted in a big buttery, chocolately mess. Fantastic.

I said a few choice curse words in front of the kids, including probably the worst curse word you can say in front of a child. Luckily I caught myself just in time and changed the word. Close call.

I slammed the oven door a few times out of frustration.

And then, after all this occurred, I yelled at the kids, as they kept getting too close to the oven while I was doing my best to wipe melted chocolate out of a hot oven. Yelled.

A bright note, after it was all said and done I looked at the kids and sadly said, "I'm so sorry I yelled, I feel like such a bad mommy." And I really, really did feel that way. My sweet Little Man looked at me compassionately and said, "No you're not, Mommy, you're a good mommy." And he came up to me and gave me a hug.

What would I do without those sweet little beings?

Balance

It's so hard to find balance.

It seems that we have kid-centric days where we have a lot of fun, but nothing else gets done, or I plop the kids down in front of the tv all day and I get to knock off my to-do list.

Of course, I know that my kids are always most important. More important than a clean house, or a delicious meal, or whatever else...but still.

Hmmm, will to work on that.

Magic and breathing easier

It's December 28th and I just put away the Christmas tree and most of the decorations. I'm not usually so eager to have Christmas put back in the attic, but that tree was taking up precious storage space for toys. While I'm somewhat sad to see it gone, I can actually physically breathe easier now that we have a lot less visual clutter.

Ahh...

I did leave a few things up - the construction paper garland the kids and I made, the half-eaten gingerbread house, a couple of smelly good Christmas candles, and a few twinkly lights. We'll let the kids enjoy the Christmas magic a few days longer.

And on another note, Christmas magic...It's amazing how the littlest things are magical to the kids. Even after weeks of having them around, the twinkly lights and garland bring a big excited smile to the kids' faces. They keep begging to eat the gingerbread house, and I let them pick pieces off throughout the day. It doesn't taste good at all, but Little Man and Baby Girl haven't seemed to notice. Snow globes, I don't even know what to say about those! Grandma Monger gave each of the kids their very own snow globe last year, and this year as well. She wants to start a collection for them. The little ones go crazy for it. Shaking them up, watching the snow fall, listening to the tinkling music. Thank you, Monger.

And yet on another note, Monger left yesterday to spend a few weeks in Spain with the other branch of the family. Can I say that I'm a little jealous? She'll spend several days in Spain, then they're all off to the Canary Islands for a week-long vacation, then it's a few days more in Spain before coming home. Yes, I'm just a little jealous. Not only of the adventure, but of getting to see the family. I would love so much to be able to see my husband's side of the family more than once a year, and for my kids to grow up with cousins as best friends. Maybe one day....I'm not sure what we're going to do for this long without Monger. Little Man sincerely thinks she's going to be gone for two days, not two weeks. He's already asking if he can go over to her house to spend the night, and I'm looking at two weeks without help during the week. It can be done, I know, but Monger helps us out so much! Again, thank you, Monger. It's true what they say, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

And that is all I have to say, I'm off to vacuum and settle into a good book!

Today, Mama lost it.

I know I've already written about how Little Man started preschool last week. Not parent's day out preschool, but "real" pre-kindergarten. Last week I was expecting tears on my part, but really none came.

Until today, that is.

Today was Little Man's second week of school, and really only his fourth day. But today held something new for me - I had to drop Little Man off in the carpool line. That's right, I had to let a stranger (a teacher at the school, but a stranger never the less) open my car door, unbuckle my newly four year old son, and walk him off to his classroom, all while I sat there and watched. Actually, I didn't really get to watch, because there were what seemed like a gazillion cars waiting behind me (this school's carpool is insane!), and I was encouraged to promptly drive away.

I had only rounded the corner (still on school property) before my face started to crumble. I didn't even know what was happening at first, the tears came and then the awareness of the emotions followed. Before I was on the street I was in full blown crying mode. I was only hoping to keep it together long enough to get away from the guys directing traffic and the other parents waiting at the stoplight. I was only semi-successful.

That was hard. An unexpected hard. Wow, it caught me by surprise. It's two hours later and I'm still tearing up thinking about it. I really enjoyed walking Little Man into his classroom, seeing the morning activities laid out, saying "Good morning" to his teacher, and giving him a hug goodbye. It doesn't seem like too much to ask, especially for a pre-k class. This morning made me realize that, even though I'm trying not to, I'm taking my babies for granted. They do grow up too fast. Little Man is already gone from me for three entire days, and while I'm glad he's learning and having fun, I don't really like it.

Maybe I should check into homeschooling...

School Days..

Have I mentioned that I love Little Man and Baby Girl's school? I'm sure I have, but I'll say it again.


I LOVE their school!


Today is Little Man's third day of pre-k, and he's loving it! Yesterday I picked him up, all smiles, and he talked the entire way home. Then, once we were home, he bounced around the house, still all smiles, and told me about his day. They had a Spanish encore class yesterday, and while we were eating an after school snack, he looked at me and said, "Hola, amigos!" How fun it that!?


So this morning I took the kids to school, Baby Girl is in PDO today, and I ended up staying for nearly an hour! I walked Little Man into his classroom (last day to do that, next week it's drop him off in the carpool lane :(. ), saw where he puts his bag and where his chair is, and talked to the teacher, who gave a great report. :) I also offered my assistance in the classroom, I told the teacher I'll make copies, cut out crafts, I'll do anything. I just want to be involved in Little Man's school in some way. I really hope she'll take me up on my offer, I think it would be so much fun!


Then it was off to take Baby Girl to PDO, and I realized we were early. I mean 15 minutes early for Early Birds, which is a program that lets parents drop their children off 30 minutes early. So we found a little person playground and played for a bit, and then went on to the classroom. Once there, I tried to drop Baby Girl off and leave, really I did, but there was only one teacher in Early Birds, and she had four babies, all of whom were crying! Oh no! She was acting so calm, she said not to worry, that she "had it," but I saw the look on her face, and knew she was overwhelmed. So Baby Girl and I stayed, I grabbed a crying baby, and walked around the room with two little ones in my arms. Once one baby calmed down I grabbed another. I loved it. Soon enough a few more teachers came in and there was enough help to go around, but I still wasn't about to leave Baby Girl there with all those crying babies, and we had a few more minutes before regular hours started. So...we went to the directors office, she's really sweet and so easy to talk to. I told her what had happened and then I said, "Do you need any extra help? I'll be happy to help." What had gotten into me!? I would love to help, though. I love holding the babies, even the crying ones. I wasn't even going to put Baby Girl into Early Birds, I was planning on dropping Little Man off, then running and errand or two, then coming back and dropping Baby Girl off. However, I soon realized the ridiculousness of this plan, and decided to enroll her in Early Birds. Truly, though, except for the one day I'm planning to work, she doesn't have to be there, so it would be easy to help. Anyway, while I was in the office, several of the teachers trickled in, and many of them have taken care of Little Man at some point, and they all asked about him and how he liked pre-k. A few said they've seen him on the campus, and they reported that he looks like he's having a great time. According to them, he's smiling, playing, and behaving well. One teacher said, "The class was walking down the hall in a line, and he was actually standing in line." It was so sweet for them to tell me this, it made my heart feel so good. Finally, it was time to take Baby Girl to her regular classroom, so we made our way to it, and I dropped her off. She cried, but only for a minute. I waved to the other teachers as I left.

I think I've made friends for life in some of those teachers.

Oh, and I love this school!

Better late than never

I am so behind on posting, which I really wouldn't care about, but so much has happened lately that I don't want to forget!

We had preschool orientation last week. It was just for parents. The Husband stayed home with the kids while I went up to the school. It felt like the first day of school for me, too. I was nervous. I actually dressed well [ ;) ], putting on a nice skirt and top instead of shorts and a t-shirt. I walked into the chapel, didn't see anyone I knew, so I just took a seat. Then the parents of one of Little Man's classmates from Parent's Day Out came and sat behind me. Whew! It was nice to see familiar faces. A few minutes later a woman patted the seat next to me and said, "Is this seat taken?" I said,"no," looked up, and saw - my neighbor! She didn't realize it was me when she sat down, too funny. Her son and Little Man are great friends, and he is one grade above Little Man, and it was great to see her. Instant relief! The headmaster spoke for a few minutes, he said he thought we were probably all relieved that school was about to start and glad that our preschoolers would be out of our hair. I was thinking, "Boy, you don't understand at all, nothing could be further from the truth." I was hoping the next speaker would be a little more inspirational, and wow she didn't disappoint. At first she had a few jokes, and she was truly funny. She started off by talking about the movie Forrest Gump, and how, many years before the movie was made, she coined a phrase similar to the movie's famous, "Life is like a box of chocolates." Her phrase is, "Life is like a box of crayons. " She talked about the evolution of the crayon box. It started out as a box of eight, then as more crayons were added, it became a box of 16, then 24. Now we have boxes of 64 crayons, even 124 crayons. She also talked about how nowadays the name of each color is printed in English, Spanish, and French, and how there is a Crayola Color Hall of Fame, where retired colors go. So crayons, like life, change, and we have to change with it. She took the analogy a bit further and said that a crayon box has but only one direction, printed next to the sharpener on the back of the box, and it reads, "tear off paper before sharpening." How many of us, as children, actually followed that one direction?" she asked. We usually just crammed that crayon on in and made a big mess, paper and all. Again, life is like a box of crayons. It was very funny, I wish I had actually written this last week when I could remember all the nuances of the speech. At the time I thought to myself, "I like this lady."

I can't even remember her name, or her position, but she is fairly new to the school, and she talked about how she decided to take her current job while attending last year's parent's orientation. She talked about how she had already been offered another job, and had her heart set on it, when she had the opportunity to interview at Little Man's school. She decided to see what this school was about, interviewed, and was open to but not set on taking the position. She asked if she could attend the orientation day to get a feel for the teachers and staff, and so she did. She started off by saying she watched the parents and orientation, which was good, then she attended a staff meeting, which was boring and not so good, but it was the event that occurred after the parents left and the meetings were over that she knew her heart belonged at this school. She said that, at this school, the teachers and staff have a dedication ceremony the afternoon of orientation. They come to the chapel and sing and pray. They hold hands, they build each other up spiritually, and they pray for our kids. Not as a group, but for each child individually. This person told us, how, before the ceremony, each teacher writes the name of each child in her class on a piece of paper, places the names up on the alter, and prays individually over each name. Oh wow, that kind of got me. A stranger praying for my son, praying for a happy school year. Praying (for my son as an individual) for learning to take place, for friendships to be forged, for personal growth to occur. I'm not ashamed to say I cried right then and there. I looked over at my neighbor and she was doing the same! I mean, how freaking sweet is that!? You won't find that at any old school. I was sold! Let the school year begin! I know my son will thrive in an environment such as this. Thank you, God, for pointing me in the direction of this school and making the road to it a smooth one.