Hubby has become victim of really bad fashion. I know, he's a guy what do I expect. Well everything is OK except for the black socks. You heard (read) me right, black socks. I mean black socks everyday. With shorts. And tennis shoes. I ask all the time, "why black socks?" They are cool he says. In style. What style is that? They may be OK at the gym but out in public I don't think so.
I have seen one other person wear black socks that showed from the tops of his tennis shoes and he was not even in the same age bracket as my husband. Of course hubby was with me and pointed them out so I would know that they were cool and he wasn't the only one wearing black socks. I had to point out that this guy was about 18 years old and by himself. Poor guy. Maybe I should have told him that white socks look better with tennies.
Alas, I still have to endure the uglies while we are still in shorts season. Thank goodness he does have a little sense and wears the ankle socks and not those long jobbers that come up to the middle of the calf. Even so, it embarrasses me. Bad. But to get past the sight of this hideous fashion faux pas, I laugh. I laugh because that is so him and I love my hubby and all the silly things he does. Today, however, I laughed at a really inappropriate time. In church.
We were sitting down and the preacher asked us to bow our heads as he opened in prayer. So I did. Then I saw them. Right there below my seat my hubby's socks were poking out from the tops of his tennis shoes (very casual dress church). Mind you, he was wearing a WHITE polo shirt, green khaki cargo shorts, predominately white shoes, and that's right - BLACK SOCKS. I laughed. I couldn't help it. I may have snorted because I think hubby turned his head to look at me. By then I had my eyes closed and was trying my hardest not to smile and concentrate on what the preacher was saying. I took a deep breath and focused on the rest of the sermon which was really awesome BTW.
I hope I am the only wife that has to deal with this travesty. If not, I would love to hear from you. Am I right in despising the black socks? Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion. I just want to make sure I'm in the majority here.
As I am sitting here on the couch typing this, hubby is sitting in the recliner next to me playing Xbox. With his black sock clad feet propped up on the ottoman. He knows this drives me crazy, just the sight of them makes me batty. Every once in a while he'll throw a sweaty black sock in my direction just to get a reaction out of me. Sometimes he'll leave one on my desk or one my side of the bed. I'm not sure if this is on purpose or just carelessness. Knowing him, it's purposeful. I never say anything. I just hold my nose and pick them up with the very tippy tips of my nails and quickly toss them in to the dirty clothes basket.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Swim Down!
It is unreal how a 30 lb. child can make it impossible to pick them up. A2 had a fit last night because she wanted to sleep with a pillow. I must confess, she is still in a crib. It's just safer for her (and us) that way. She is very sneaky and we are scared she will get out of bed and do something dangerous in the middle of the night. I know, I know, you are probably thinking, "hasn't she climbed out of the crib yet?" the answer is NO! Unbelievably she has not. She is the child who is fearless and will do anything you tell her not to do, but she has not climbed out of her crib yet and I have just jinxed myself. We'll probably move her out of it soon. Just not yet.
So back to the point. She wanted a pillow and I don't like pillows in the crib so we told her no, not until she's in a big girl bed. We always go to A1's room at bedtime to say our prayers and goodnight to everyone. The girls get under the covers and say prayers while hubby and I get on either side of the bed. We were cleaning the toys out of the living room so we could go to bed. A2 picked up all of her kids (a.k.a. stuffed animals), I grabbed one of her decorative pillows and she yelled "No! I want my pillow." O.K. I thought, she wants to take it to her room. Yeah right, I know now why she wanted it. She planned to put it in the bed with her. She tried to do just that and I said "No pillows." That's when she lost it. Major Break Down. A2 flung herself in on the floor wailing, we call it the flop and drop, and wouldn't get up.
We were trying to make our way to A1's room for our night time ritual. I bent over to pick her up and it was like trying to pick up a bag of bricks. I managed to get her off the floor but she was still fighting me to put her down. A2 was struggling so hard I almost lost my balance. She was almost successful in her plan for escaping. It reminded me of the scene in the movie "Finding Nemo" when Nemo and Dori get caught in the fishing net with all those other fish and Nemo tells his dad to get all the other fish to swim down so the net would break and they would be free. Swim down, swim down!
I finally got her to A1's room and hubby took the pillow. I don't know what he did with it because it showed back up a few minutes later and the whole episode replayed itself. So, we made it to A1's bed and the girls got under the covers and A2 decided she didn't like the arrangements. I was on her side of the bed and hubby was on A1's. "No! Switch, I want Daddy here and you go over there!" No need to argue. Pick you battles and let bossy tell you what to do for the sake of sanity. It would all be over soon. Or so I thought.
"Tell a story" they yelled. "Too late, we'll have to do it tomorrow" I told them. In true fashion, one of them always has to defy me, A1 started to tell her own version of the 3 little pigs. Her story is the 3 little cows. The wolf- a bull. She got to the first house and that took forever so I told her we'd finish tomorrow. It was waaaayyy past bedtime -mine.
A2 and I made it to her room with out incident. Then it appeared. The pillow. It was there out of nowhere and she saw it. You guessed it, Break Down #2. I put her in her bed anyway and told her I wasn't going to cover her up if she didn't lay down. She did and asked for socks like she does every night. I don't know why she has to wear socks to bed. I got the socks and put them on her. Then I had to wait for her to get her kids arranged in the bed so I could cover her up. OCD A2 has to have her blankets turned a certain way and cover her up in a certain order. Don't worry, if you don't get it right, she'll let you know. After all that, she wanted kisses. I leaned in and gave her a kiss but that wasn't good enough. "I want all of them" she says in the sweetest voice EVER! So I gave her the special kisses that only she and I share. I make kissing lips and sounds and she rubs her face around in circles so I can kiss every part of her face.
Once again I had to make sure the blankets were arranged the right way and her kids were covered up. Don't want them to get cold. I shut the door and sat down to read a book. Not 10 minutes later, "Mommy, I need to potty." SWIM DOWN, SWIM DOWN. Daddy's turn. It never ends.
So back to the point. She wanted a pillow and I don't like pillows in the crib so we told her no, not until she's in a big girl bed. We always go to A1's room at bedtime to say our prayers and goodnight to everyone. The girls get under the covers and say prayers while hubby and I get on either side of the bed. We were cleaning the toys out of the living room so we could go to bed. A2 picked up all of her kids (a.k.a. stuffed animals), I grabbed one of her decorative pillows and she yelled "No! I want my pillow." O.K. I thought, she wants to take it to her room. Yeah right, I know now why she wanted it. She planned to put it in the bed with her. She tried to do just that and I said "No pillows." That's when she lost it. Major Break Down. A2 flung herself in on the floor wailing, we call it the flop and drop, and wouldn't get up.
We were trying to make our way to A1's room for our night time ritual. I bent over to pick her up and it was like trying to pick up a bag of bricks. I managed to get her off the floor but she was still fighting me to put her down. A2 was struggling so hard I almost lost my balance. She was almost successful in her plan for escaping. It reminded me of the scene in the movie "Finding Nemo" when Nemo and Dori get caught in the fishing net with all those other fish and Nemo tells his dad to get all the other fish to swim down so the net would break and they would be free. Swim down, swim down!
I finally got her to A1's room and hubby took the pillow. I don't know what he did with it because it showed back up a few minutes later and the whole episode replayed itself. So, we made it to A1's bed and the girls got under the covers and A2 decided she didn't like the arrangements. I was on her side of the bed and hubby was on A1's. "No! Switch, I want Daddy here and you go over there!" No need to argue. Pick you battles and let bossy tell you what to do for the sake of sanity. It would all be over soon. Or so I thought.
"Tell a story" they yelled. "Too late, we'll have to do it tomorrow" I told them. In true fashion, one of them always has to defy me, A1 started to tell her own version of the 3 little pigs. Her story is the 3 little cows. The wolf- a bull. She got to the first house and that took forever so I told her we'd finish tomorrow. It was waaaayyy past bedtime -mine.
A2 and I made it to her room with out incident. Then it appeared. The pillow. It was there out of nowhere and she saw it. You guessed it, Break Down #2. I put her in her bed anyway and told her I wasn't going to cover her up if she didn't lay down. She did and asked for socks like she does every night. I don't know why she has to wear socks to bed. I got the socks and put them on her. Then I had to wait for her to get her kids arranged in the bed so I could cover her up. OCD A2 has to have her blankets turned a certain way and cover her up in a certain order. Don't worry, if you don't get it right, she'll let you know. After all that, she wanted kisses. I leaned in and gave her a kiss but that wasn't good enough. "I want all of them" she says in the sweetest voice EVER! So I gave her the special kisses that only she and I share. I make kissing lips and sounds and she rubs her face around in circles so I can kiss every part of her face.
Once again I had to make sure the blankets were arranged the right way and her kids were covered up. Don't want them to get cold. I shut the door and sat down to read a book. Not 10 minutes later, "Mommy, I need to potty." SWIM DOWN, SWIM DOWN. Daddy's turn. It never ends.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Flushed Away
I started keeping a journal around the end of June. I decided that I really need to be diligent about it so I could write down my thoughts, all the things my kids say and do, and the fun things we do as a family. We went to the beach at the end of June and we had a blast. At the time A1 had just turned 6 and A2 had not turned 3 yet. We went with my Mom and step-dad and stayed in a very nice house.
It was overcast one day so we decided to go to a water park. It was a small water park but it was so much fun! I was really surprised that the kids wanted to ride the big slides and stay in the lazy river rather than hang out in the kiddie area. There was one slide that we called the toilet bowl and we said we were getting "Flushed Away" each time we went down. I don't know how high it was but it was waaaayyy up there. The first part of the slide is a tunnel that takes you around some curves. The you shoot out into a "bowl" in which you whirl around in until you get sucked down into the next curvy tunnel slide that spits you out into the lazy river. If you haven't seen the movie Flushed Away, you need to. It is so funny. Even if you don't have kids you'll enjoy it. This slide reminded us of that movie.
A2 is my more adventurous child and A1 is apprehensive about trying new things. Of course, as
we floated around the lazy river, A2 saw the toilet bowl slide and wanted to go down. I thought she would be too small so I asked the next life guard that we floated by if she could go down and he said "Yes as long as you go down with her". Duh. "And you have to use a double raft." What? That thing was huge.
So A2 and I sent out on the endless hike up the winding stairs to the top of the slide. The raft was so heavy and I had to balance the raft on one arm and hold A2's hand on the other side of me. Oh yeah, I had to keep my balance as well. I didn't realize how hard it would be to get the raft, hold onto a slightly unbalanced 2 year old and a not so fit me, up the equivalent of 4 plus stories just for a few seconds of thrilling swirls, laughs, and screams. All the while I was thinking, praying rather, please don't change your mind when we get up here little girl, you'll be going down anyway.
We made it up to the top and I had to ask myself if what I just did, dragging myself, raft and my 2 year old so far up was stupid. It was our turn and the life guard at the top helped us get in the raft. A2 was in the front and I tucked my legs under her arms and reached forward to hold onto her arms. She was so tiny I could barely reach her! She did have a life vest on.
We hadn't even taken off yet and A2 was already laughing. I was afraid she would start crying but she was so excited. With a little push from the life guard, we were screaming our way down the winding tube. Before we knew it we were swirling around the giant toilet bowl. We got stuck at the opening that sucks you into the next tunnel so I had to give us a little push. After a few more seconds and screams we were back in the lazy river.
My Mom and step dad said they could hear us laughing and screaming all the way down. They waited for us at the end of the slide. Of course we all know what comes next "Do it again!" So we did. And again and again and again. Finally one of the life guards told me that she could ride on my lap and we could go down in a single tube because she was so small. Thanks for watching me go up those steps 100 times before you tell me that life guard dude.
In many ways I can compare mothering to that water slide. In the beginning it's the excitement of becoming a mother and trying something new. What's at the top? You know it will be worth the "hike". The weight of something you're not used to putting stress on your body (raft=baby). Unsteady, yet you are on your way to the top. That raft has to get up there some how, if you want to ride the slide, you have to take the raft. Like the trusting child, relying solely on you for safety and nourishment when you are pregnant, she trusts you to get her safely to the top and back down again.
Then you reach the top. This could be the end of your pregnancy or adoption. You are waiting your turn to become a mother. Before you know it, you're up. you take your seat in the raft, making sure your precious cargo is safe and brace yourself for the twists and turns that lay ahead. Then your off. Screaming and laughing but a little frightened you hold on tight.
Sometimes we get spit out of those thrilling curvy tunnels and end up in what seems like the toilet bowl of life. We go around and around until we are sucked into another set of twists and turns. Sometimes we get stuck in the bowl like we did on that water slide and it takes a little more effort to get through to the next stage. Ahead, more dark tunnels, fast turns, and bumpy slides.
And, as it all began, you end up in the calm waters of the lazy river with your family waiting for you at the end. If you relax and go with the flow of the lazy river, it will take you right back to the stairs of the water slide and you can do it all over again. This time you may have learned a short cut or picked up some good advice. Ex: instead of hauling that really heavy double raft up tons of stairs, you can opt to take the smaller, lighter single raft.
We all learn from our mistakes, but what an adventure you have while trying something new.
It was overcast one day so we decided to go to a water park. It was a small water park but it was so much fun! I was really surprised that the kids wanted to ride the big slides and stay in the lazy river rather than hang out in the kiddie area. There was one slide that we called the toilet bowl and we said we were getting "Flushed Away" each time we went down. I don't know how high it was but it was waaaayyy up there. The first part of the slide is a tunnel that takes you around some curves. The you shoot out into a "bowl" in which you whirl around in until you get sucked down into the next curvy tunnel slide that spits you out into the lazy river. If you haven't seen the movie Flushed Away, you need to. It is so funny. Even if you don't have kids you'll enjoy it. This slide reminded us of that movie.
A2 is my more adventurous child and A1 is apprehensive about trying new things. Of course, as
we floated around the lazy river, A2 saw the toilet bowl slide and wanted to go down. I thought she would be too small so I asked the next life guard that we floated by if she could go down and he said "Yes as long as you go down with her". Duh. "And you have to use a double raft." What? That thing was huge.
So A2 and I sent out on the endless hike up the winding stairs to the top of the slide. The raft was so heavy and I had to balance the raft on one arm and hold A2's hand on the other side of me. Oh yeah, I had to keep my balance as well. I didn't realize how hard it would be to get the raft, hold onto a slightly unbalanced 2 year old and a not so fit me, up the equivalent of 4 plus stories just for a few seconds of thrilling swirls, laughs, and screams. All the while I was thinking, praying rather, please don't change your mind when we get up here little girl, you'll be going down anyway.
We made it up to the top and I had to ask myself if what I just did, dragging myself, raft and my 2 year old so far up was stupid. It was our turn and the life guard at the top helped us get in the raft. A2 was in the front and I tucked my legs under her arms and reached forward to hold onto her arms. She was so tiny I could barely reach her! She did have a life vest on.
We hadn't even taken off yet and A2 was already laughing. I was afraid she would start crying but she was so excited. With a little push from the life guard, we were screaming our way down the winding tube. Before we knew it we were swirling around the giant toilet bowl. We got stuck at the opening that sucks you into the next tunnel so I had to give us a little push. After a few more seconds and screams we were back in the lazy river.
My Mom and step dad said they could hear us laughing and screaming all the way down. They waited for us at the end of the slide. Of course we all know what comes next "Do it again!" So we did. And again and again and again. Finally one of the life guards told me that she could ride on my lap and we could go down in a single tube because she was so small. Thanks for watching me go up those steps 100 times before you tell me that life guard dude.
In many ways I can compare mothering to that water slide. In the beginning it's the excitement of becoming a mother and trying something new. What's at the top? You know it will be worth the "hike". The weight of something you're not used to putting stress on your body (raft=baby). Unsteady, yet you are on your way to the top. That raft has to get up there some how, if you want to ride the slide, you have to take the raft. Like the trusting child, relying solely on you for safety and nourishment when you are pregnant, she trusts you to get her safely to the top and back down again.
Then you reach the top. This could be the end of your pregnancy or adoption. You are waiting your turn to become a mother. Before you know it, you're up. you take your seat in the raft, making sure your precious cargo is safe and brace yourself for the twists and turns that lay ahead. Then your off. Screaming and laughing but a little frightened you hold on tight.
Sometimes we get spit out of those thrilling curvy tunnels and end up in what seems like the toilet bowl of life. We go around and around until we are sucked into another set of twists and turns. Sometimes we get stuck in the bowl like we did on that water slide and it takes a little more effort to get through to the next stage. Ahead, more dark tunnels, fast turns, and bumpy slides.
And, as it all began, you end up in the calm waters of the lazy river with your family waiting for you at the end. If you relax and go with the flow of the lazy river, it will take you right back to the stairs of the water slide and you can do it all over again. This time you may have learned a short cut or picked up some good advice. Ex: instead of hauling that really heavy double raft up tons of stairs, you can opt to take the smaller, lighter single raft.
We all learn from our mistakes, but what an adventure you have while trying something new.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Sleeping With Glasses
OK, If you read my previous blog you know that I spent the weekend with my sister and her new babies. I was really tired. I am still really tired. I have not replenished my sleep reservoir as of yet. I seriously depleted any excess sleep that I may have had. I don't think I had any. It's most likely in the negative.
Usually I'll lay in bed and read a little or watch TV before I go to sleep. Well, until I go to sleep. Most of the time I'm in the bed and already asleep before my hubby comes to bed. When he comes in the room he'll turn the TV off and sometimes I'll wake up and say something stupid like "I was watching that!" Ha ha.
I don't remember him coming to bed Sunday night or turning the TV off. Apparently I was so tired that I fell asleep with my glasses on. Yes, I wear glasses. I sometimes wear contacts but glasses work better for me. Now, I have done this before but hubby removed my vision apparatus from my face. Not so this time. I have before gone to sleep with glasses on and woken up to take them off.
I was completely pooped so when I went to sleep, I slept and I didn't wake up until 6:00 a.m. when my alarm went off. I got up, turned my alarm off, put my hands to my face to rub my eyes and felt the cool plastic of my lenses instead of my sleepy eyes. I immediately woke hubby up to tell him that I slept with my glasses on. BTW . . . he didn't have to go to work that day and was not at all amused that I disturbed his slumber. Talk about grouch.
I'm really lucky that I didn't twist them or break something. I must have been so drained that I didn't even have the energy to turn myself over in my sleep! Must have stayed in the same position all night.
When I realized that I had slept with my glasses on, for some reason it made me feel like I didn't sleep at all. I felt robbed! I desperately needed sleep. I was so tired at work that day that I called a boy named Christian, Christina. I was so embarrassed. Or was I? It may have been that I was so tired that it didn't bother me that I totally flubbed a name. Oh well, I'll catch up sometime this week. Maybe.
Usually I'll lay in bed and read a little or watch TV before I go to sleep. Well, until I go to sleep. Most of the time I'm in the bed and already asleep before my hubby comes to bed. When he comes in the room he'll turn the TV off and sometimes I'll wake up and say something stupid like "I was watching that!" Ha ha.
I don't remember him coming to bed Sunday night or turning the TV off. Apparently I was so tired that I fell asleep with my glasses on. Yes, I wear glasses. I sometimes wear contacts but glasses work better for me. Now, I have done this before but hubby removed my vision apparatus from my face. Not so this time. I have before gone to sleep with glasses on and woken up to take them off.
I was completely pooped so when I went to sleep, I slept and I didn't wake up until 6:00 a.m. when my alarm went off. I got up, turned my alarm off, put my hands to my face to rub my eyes and felt the cool plastic of my lenses instead of my sleepy eyes. I immediately woke hubby up to tell him that I slept with my glasses on. BTW . . . he didn't have to go to work that day and was not at all amused that I disturbed his slumber. Talk about grouch.
I'm really lucky that I didn't twist them or break something. I must have been so drained that I didn't even have the energy to turn myself over in my sleep! Must have stayed in the same position all night.
When I realized that I had slept with my glasses on, for some reason it made me feel like I didn't sleep at all. I felt robbed! I desperately needed sleep. I was so tired at work that day that I called a boy named Christian, Christina. I was so embarrassed. Or was I? It may have been that I was so tired that it didn't bother me that I totally flubbed a name. Oh well, I'll catch up sometime this week. Maybe.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Olympics
Yes, the (summer) Olympics are back! Who watched to opening ceremony this weekend? Live? I did!! Oh yes, I was up. I watched the opening ceremony and it was awesome. Although I'm not sure I remember everything. I stayed the weekend with my sister who had twins 2 weeks ago. I have 2 kids but I had them at different times and they are totally grown out of the up all night and diaper stages. So, I was thrown back in the baby game with a ferocity. This confirmed that I do not want any more kids. I thought I wanted one more (hubby doesn't). I remember the sleepless nights and all that but when you are actually living it x's 2, it works like birth control magic. I heart sleep!
By Sunday, they had already been through about 176 diapers and they have only been home 1 week. That's not counting the diapers when they were in the hospital for a week. That's like 25 diapers per day. Yes, I used a calculator. I have no brain cells left. I'm writing this and really not sure if it makes any sense at all.
Let's continue. We were up with babies when the opening ceremony started and watched the whole thing. Well, what we could. As the 2008 Olympics started, we were full throttle in the Parenting Olympics all night marathon. 3 Adults vs. 2 Babies. Babies won. Adults, negative in the point department. I was completely exhausted. I felt really bad Saturday night because it was really hard for me to wake up. Sometimes I didn't wake up and I felt really guilty that I was comatose at various periods during the weekend. I can't imagine how my sis and brother-in-law feel. Those babies are so stinking cute.
What's really crazy was that while we were so tired at night when we had to get up, we were fully awake during the day. I could not take a nap! That is until I got home on Sunday. Then, during a really great nap, A2 yells in my ear "MOMMY, YOUR PHONE IS RINGING!!" well, it sounded more like "MOMMY, YOUR PONE SIS WINGIN." I jumped up and looked at the number. It was my Grandma's nursing home. That worried me. Everything was OK, they just wanted someone to talk to her because she had been trying to escape all day. She has Alzheimer's and doesn't know why she is there. She wants to go home. Long story short, she still didn't understand why she was there, even after I explained it to her, and wanted to go home. It's not even a nursing home, it's an assisted living facility. She lives in a really nice home with 5 other old ladies and a care giver there at all times. The care giver makes all their meals, does laundry, gives them their meds, showers and everything. The residents don't have to do a thing! It's like a permanent vacation. I tried to tell her this. My Mom talked to her as well. Hopefully she won't try to leave again.
Back to the Olympics. For all you parents or parents to be out there, here is a list of Olympic events you may or may not be required to participate in.
Parenting Olympic Categories:
Swimming
100 meter freestyle - The stretch of crying child and parent searching to find anything to quiet said child.
400 meter freestyle - The longer stretch of crying child with extra screams, frantic parents, and really bad diapers. Just trying to keep your head above water at this point.
Gymnastics
floor exercises - The art of picking up bottles, burp rags, and toys from the floor. The graceful search for missing passies or the source of a funky smell. Removal of unidentifiable substances from floors.
balance beam - The practice of standing on one foot with baby in hand and picking up a blanket with the other foot, bringing it to your free hand then wrapping baby in blanket.
uneven bars - Running with one shoe on to catch toddler escaping from house. Weaving your way past wooden blocks, Lego's, and magic wands in the middle of the night with out stepping on anything.
Track
100m Hurdles - Jumping, while traveling at lightening speed, over anything separating you from your child who may or may not be in immediate danger.
discus throw - The act of tossing a diaper to your husband with pinpoint accuracy and perfect timing.
marathon - Continuous night of crying, feeding, burping, diaper changing, crying (you), feeding, burping, diaper changing, etc. The race to see who can stay awake the longest, you, your spouse or the baby.
relay - Passing the child (or children) from one parent to another for diaper change in order to make a bottle before the baby realizes your finger has no nourishment.
Just remember, kids always win but parents deserve the gold medals.
By Sunday, they had already been through about 176 diapers and they have only been home 1 week. That's not counting the diapers when they were in the hospital for a week. That's like 25 diapers per day. Yes, I used a calculator. I have no brain cells left. I'm writing this and really not sure if it makes any sense at all.
Let's continue. We were up with babies when the opening ceremony started and watched the whole thing. Well, what we could. As the 2008 Olympics started, we were full throttle in the Parenting Olympics all night marathon. 3 Adults vs. 2 Babies. Babies won. Adults, negative in the point department. I was completely exhausted. I felt really bad Saturday night because it was really hard for me to wake up. Sometimes I didn't wake up and I felt really guilty that I was comatose at various periods during the weekend. I can't imagine how my sis and brother-in-law feel. Those babies are so stinking cute.
What's really crazy was that while we were so tired at night when we had to get up, we were fully awake during the day. I could not take a nap! That is until I got home on Sunday. Then, during a really great nap, A2 yells in my ear "MOMMY, YOUR PHONE IS RINGING!!" well, it sounded more like "MOMMY, YOUR PONE SIS WINGIN." I jumped up and looked at the number. It was my Grandma's nursing home. That worried me. Everything was OK, they just wanted someone to talk to her because she had been trying to escape all day. She has Alzheimer's and doesn't know why she is there. She wants to go home. Long story short, she still didn't understand why she was there, even after I explained it to her, and wanted to go home. It's not even a nursing home, it's an assisted living facility. She lives in a really nice home with 5 other old ladies and a care giver there at all times. The care giver makes all their meals, does laundry, gives them their meds, showers and everything. The residents don't have to do a thing! It's like a permanent vacation. I tried to tell her this. My Mom talked to her as well. Hopefully she won't try to leave again.
Back to the Olympics. For all you parents or parents to be out there, here is a list of Olympic events you may or may not be required to participate in.
Parenting Olympic Categories:
Swimming
100 meter freestyle - The stretch of crying child and parent searching to find anything to quiet said child.
400 meter freestyle - The longer stretch of crying child with extra screams, frantic parents, and really bad diapers. Just trying to keep your head above water at this point.
Gymnastics
floor exercises - The art of picking up bottles, burp rags, and toys from the floor. The graceful search for missing passies or the source of a funky smell. Removal of unidentifiable substances from floors.
balance beam - The practice of standing on one foot with baby in hand and picking up a blanket with the other foot, bringing it to your free hand then wrapping baby in blanket.
uneven bars - Running with one shoe on to catch toddler escaping from house. Weaving your way past wooden blocks, Lego's, and magic wands in the middle of the night with out stepping on anything.
Track
100m Hurdles - Jumping, while traveling at lightening speed, over anything separating you from your child who may or may not be in immediate danger.
discus throw - The act of tossing a diaper to your husband with pinpoint accuracy and perfect timing.
marathon - Continuous night of crying, feeding, burping, diaper changing, crying (you), feeding, burping, diaper changing, etc. The race to see who can stay awake the longest, you, your spouse or the baby.
relay - Passing the child (or children) from one parent to another for diaper change in order to make a bottle before the baby realizes your finger has no nourishment.
Just remember, kids always win but parents deserve the gold medals.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Potty Punishment
Why is it that I have to deal with breaking up fights and passing out punishments while I'm in the bathroom? There is no privacy to be found in this house. It never fails, when I go to the bathroom, someone gets hurt.
The bathroom doors busts open, I thought I locked that. A2 runs in screaming "Ahhhhhh, A1 hit my eye bow!" Meanwhile, A1 stands in the shadows of my bedroom with her hand over her mouth trying to hide the smile on her face and choke back a laugh. Here I am trying to console a crying 3 year old with a red welt on her face and go to the bathroom at the same time. I know there isn't anyone who enjoys reading about my potty time but it goes along with the story. Besides, if you are a parent you know it's happened to you!
"A1, did you hit her?" With a shake of her head and that ever present smirk, I get my answer. "You go stand in the corner until I can deal with you."
I turn to A2 and ask "What did she hit you with?"
Her reply, "A1!"
"What did A1 hit you with?" I ask.
"My eye bow!" snob, sniffle, deep breath.
"I know A1 hit you in the eyebrow, did she use her hand?"
"Yes" gulp, snob, wipe snot on mommy.
Two minutes later, A1 in the corner and A2 not crying anymore and I am in the comfy chair, Hubby comes home. Of course he is going to want to know why A1 is in the corner.
"Why are you in the corner A1?"
Miss rudeness stands there with her back to him picking at the wall (that's another story).
"Answer him" I say.
Holding back a smile, "I hit A2."
"Why?" Hubby asks.
"Because I thought she pulled a tag off the puppy."
A1 thought A2 pulled a tag out of a stuffed animal. Well, that's something to hit over. But you know, I was so upset that my private time had been invaded and felt that I had to focus on A2 that I never even thought to ask what had happened. I immediately felt that I had to punish and make better at the same time while I was indispose. I felt a little inadequate as I realized that hubby had used some sense and I had only acted out of selfishness. Or at least I thought I had because I felt I deserve to have alone time enough to step into the bathroom. Really, who can think at times like those?
The light in the kitchen flips on, off, on. I look over and A1 is flipping the light switch. She catches me giving her the look and turns back around. "When can I get out of the corner?"
"When I say you can." And I smile.
The bathroom doors busts open, I thought I locked that. A2 runs in screaming "Ahhhhhh, A1 hit my eye bow!" Meanwhile, A1 stands in the shadows of my bedroom with her hand over her mouth trying to hide the smile on her face and choke back a laugh. Here I am trying to console a crying 3 year old with a red welt on her face and go to the bathroom at the same time. I know there isn't anyone who enjoys reading about my potty time but it goes along with the story. Besides, if you are a parent you know it's happened to you!
"A1, did you hit her?" With a shake of her head and that ever present smirk, I get my answer. "You go stand in the corner until I can deal with you."
I turn to A2 and ask "What did she hit you with?"
Her reply, "A1!"
"What did A1 hit you with?" I ask.
"My eye bow!" snob, sniffle, deep breath.
"I know A1 hit you in the eyebrow, did she use her hand?"
"Yes" gulp, snob, wipe snot on mommy.
Two minutes later, A1 in the corner and A2 not crying anymore and I am in the comfy chair, Hubby comes home. Of course he is going to want to know why A1 is in the corner.
"Why are you in the corner A1?"
Miss rudeness stands there with her back to him picking at the wall (that's another story).
"Answer him" I say.
Holding back a smile, "I hit A2."
"Why?" Hubby asks.
"Because I thought she pulled a tag off the puppy."
A1 thought A2 pulled a tag out of a stuffed animal. Well, that's something to hit over. But you know, I was so upset that my private time had been invaded and felt that I had to focus on A2 that I never even thought to ask what had happened. I immediately felt that I had to punish and make better at the same time while I was indispose. I felt a little inadequate as I realized that hubby had used some sense and I had only acted out of selfishness. Or at least I thought I had because I felt I deserve to have alone time enough to step into the bathroom. Really, who can think at times like those?
The light in the kitchen flips on, off, on. I look over and A1 is flipping the light switch. She catches me giving her the look and turns back around. "When can I get out of the corner?"
"When I say you can." And I smile.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Hair Don't
Self explanatory. It is what it is, so my hubby says. I forgot to turn the alarm clock on last night. First mistake. So my day starts off with a BANG! More like I slowly open my eyes and realize there is day light coming in my bedroom window. I jump out of bed and immediately wake hubby up to tell him I forgot to set the alarm. He didn't have to go to work today, I just wanted to share my excitement with him =) Turns out it was OK because I woke up at 6:24 which is about when I normally wake up. Blessing! However, this still makes me want to rush. Maybe it was just the adrenaline pumping through my body.
Second mistake, I decided I would style my hair different. Well, I had time since I wasn't running late. It didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. My hair is naturally curly. The curl has loosened up in the past few years most likely due to being preggers twice. Or maybe it's the grey strands weaving their way in. I wear it short in a, I guess you could say, a bob. So, I straighten it out with the hair dryer and a round brush every a.m. Well, I'm sick of my do. I want to grow my hair out. OUT OUT OUT! I used to wear it long. I want it loooong again.
Anyway. Smart me decided to flip it out instead of under today. I thought it would make me feel better about my do. Wrong. It was OK for about an hour - or until I got to work. Then it went flat and looked stupid. So my hands hands were in my hair all day making it look even worse. Yes, that's right work. I'm a working mom. So the fact that I have to be seen by many people today made me feel even more frumpy. Oh, and I had a break out. So bad hair and pimples. What's up with that?
The bad hair day turned out to be just fine. When I want to pick A2 up from daycare, she was happy to see me despite what my hair looked like. Then, when I walked in the front door at home A1 was also happy to see me and no one said anything about my hair don't.
Second mistake, I decided I would style my hair different. Well, I had time since I wasn't running late. It didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. My hair is naturally curly. The curl has loosened up in the past few years most likely due to being preggers twice. Or maybe it's the grey strands weaving their way in. I wear it short in a, I guess you could say, a bob. So, I straighten it out with the hair dryer and a round brush every a.m. Well, I'm sick of my do. I want to grow my hair out. OUT OUT OUT! I used to wear it long. I want it loooong again.
Anyway. Smart me decided to flip it out instead of under today. I thought it would make me feel better about my do. Wrong. It was OK for about an hour - or until I got to work. Then it went flat and looked stupid. So my hands hands were in my hair all day making it look even worse. Yes, that's right work. I'm a working mom. So the fact that I have to be seen by many people today made me feel even more frumpy. Oh, and I had a break out. So bad hair and pimples. What's up with that?
The bad hair day turned out to be just fine. When I want to pick A2 up from daycare, she was happy to see me despite what my hair looked like. Then, when I walked in the front door at home A1 was also happy to see me and no one said anything about my hair don't.
The farmer in the Dell
To the tune of "The Farmer in the Dell"
A comma in ja dell
A comma in ja dell
Hi ho da merry yo
A comma in ja dell
Thanks again A2 . . . That's totally cute.
A comma in ja dell
A comma in ja dell
Hi ho da merry yo
A comma in ja dell
Thanks again A2 . . . That's totally cute.
Bad Habit
My kids have recently formed a really bad habit. Just add this to the list of all the other ones. I'm not sure how I'm going to put an end to this but let's just say there have already been many threats (non harmful) and a few conversations with God.
Curious? Here you go . . . they leave the without my knowing! Walk out the front door. What in the world? You may be thinking, how does she not know when her children walk out the door? Well, I don't know but let's start here. We had a storm door installed around the middle of June. It's something we've been wanting and we finally got it. The first week all hubby did was wipe face and finger prints, breath marks and a few licks off the glass. He's a neat freak. I'm not complaining. The kids would get too close to the door and his smudge alarm would go off . . ."BACK. AWAY. FROM. THE. DOOR." Come on Dad, it's right there calling us to press our little hands and faces onto it. He finally let that go.
We like to leave the front door open when we are at home just to let more natural light come in through the storm door. Hey, we're trying to be a little green here. This just invites the kids to wander outside. When hubby is outside, the kids sneak out. If someone pulls up in the driveway, there they go. If one of us is leaving to go somewhere, "Wait, Mommy I have to tell you something!" Most of the time when they do this I am busy making dinner (just kidding - that's rare) or other mommy duties. I'll hear the front door close and get there in time to see a blonde streak running across the yard or down the drive. Sometimes I'll realize that I haven't heard anyone scream for awhile. Pleased that there is peace and harmony in the Queen's home, I jerk myself from imaginary kingdom and look outside - there they are, getting dirty. Or I will hear screams but coming from outside, a fair maiden in distress. Reality, a jousting dual over the pink chalk . Like there isn't 5 pink chalks in the huge bin of chalk the princesses have.
I'll stick my head out the door to make sure hubby knows they are out there. Every time, I find myself asking the same question to the kids "Did you ask if you could go outside?" They typically reply with "No", sometimes "No but Dad's out here." Well whoopty do. The point I try to get across is I need to know where they are. If they aren't inside with me, I need to make sure Dad knows they are outside. See, no dialog here. What do I expect from a 3 and 6 year old? A little R-E-S-P-E-C-T that's what. Yeah, yeah, 3 year old hasn't grasped that yet but 6 year old should've. Just a quick 'Mom, we're outside and Dad knows" would do. Or if hubby would poke his head in and say "They are out here with me", that would be nice.
Point(s):
Safety is an issue here.
My kids should know better.
I've lost control of my family!
Where is my Nanny when I need her?
Oh yeah, I don't have one.
Curious? Here you go . . . they leave the without my knowing! Walk out the front door. What in the world? You may be thinking, how does she not know when her children walk out the door? Well, I don't know but let's start here. We had a storm door installed around the middle of June. It's something we've been wanting and we finally got it. The first week all hubby did was wipe face and finger prints, breath marks and a few licks off the glass. He's a neat freak. I'm not complaining. The kids would get too close to the door and his smudge alarm would go off . . ."BACK. AWAY. FROM. THE. DOOR." Come on Dad, it's right there calling us to press our little hands and faces onto it. He finally let that go.
We like to leave the front door open when we are at home just to let more natural light come in through the storm door. Hey, we're trying to be a little green here. This just invites the kids to wander outside. When hubby is outside, the kids sneak out. If someone pulls up in the driveway, there they go. If one of us is leaving to go somewhere, "Wait, Mommy I have to tell you something!" Most of the time when they do this I am busy making dinner (just kidding - that's rare) or other mommy duties. I'll hear the front door close and get there in time to see a blonde streak running across the yard or down the drive. Sometimes I'll realize that I haven't heard anyone scream for awhile. Pleased that there is peace and harmony in the Queen's home, I jerk myself from imaginary kingdom and look outside - there they are, getting dirty. Or I will hear screams but coming from outside, a fair maiden in distress. Reality, a jousting dual over the pink chalk . Like there isn't 5 pink chalks in the huge bin of chalk the princesses have.
I'll stick my head out the door to make sure hubby knows they are out there. Every time, I find myself asking the same question to the kids "Did you ask if you could go outside?" They typically reply with "No", sometimes "No but Dad's out here." Well whoopty do. The point I try to get across is I need to know where they are. If they aren't inside with me, I need to make sure Dad knows they are outside. See, no dialog here. What do I expect from a 3 and 6 year old? A little R-E-S-P-E-C-T that's what. Yeah, yeah, 3 year old hasn't grasped that yet but 6 year old should've. Just a quick 'Mom, we're outside and Dad knows" would do. Or if hubby would poke his head in and say "They are out here with me", that would be nice.
Point(s):
Safety is an issue here.
My kids should know better.
I've lost control of my family!
Where is my Nanny when I need her?
Oh yeah, I don't have one.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Woobie
It is her oldest friend. Since A2 was a baby, it has been with her. She would rub her face with it as she took her bottle. Catch the drips of milk as it ran down her chin.
Still, it dries her tears and wipes her snot away. It comforts her when she’s scared. It goes to bed with her every night. Is her pillow while she sleeps. Her security when she’s away from home. It goes to school with her and takes a nap with her. Covers her legs in the car if she gets cold.
Since it is so well loved and has been through so much, it gets a bath quite often. (Really when I notice that the light pink color has turned a dingy brown or it smells a little funky).
As we were getting ready for school one day, I was putting her shoes on her I kept catching a whiff of something that smelled like spoiled milk. I smelled her hands and thought I had the culprit. I told her to go wash her hands and off she went. When she came back to finish putting her shoes on, I smelled it again. It wasn’t her hands. I smelled all over her body. Her legs, feet, up her arms. My sniffer was working over time. Her hair, cheeks. It was her face. I got a wipe and scrubbed her face as best I could. We were running out of time. I was going to be late for work. The smell was still lingering. What could it be?
Then I noticed it. Woobie was in her hands. I hadn’t washed that thing in awhile. I snatched it out of her hands and held it up to my nose. Big mistake. She just stood there stunned that I would do such a thing. Ripped from her chubby arms her well loved woobie was slung across the living room as I gagged in disgust. Oh. No. What did I just do? I broke my little girls’ heart. I threw her best friend across the room and declared that it was nasty. She was so hurt. I felt terrible and tried to apologize to her and explain that I would wash it that evening and she would have it to go to bed with. She cried all the way to school and had a melt down when I dropped her off. It didn’t help that I forgot to bring in “lipstick” that morning.
Not only was I feeling bad about how the morning had transpired but then I had to explain to her teachers why she smelled like spoiled milk. Really, I do give my kids baths, she just rubbed the smell from her woobie onto her head. How embarrassing.
Still, it dries her tears and wipes her snot away. It comforts her when she’s scared. It goes to bed with her every night. Is her pillow while she sleeps. Her security when she’s away from home. It goes to school with her and takes a nap with her. Covers her legs in the car if she gets cold.
Since it is so well loved and has been through so much, it gets a bath quite often. (Really when I notice that the light pink color has turned a dingy brown or it smells a little funky).
As we were getting ready for school one day, I was putting her shoes on her I kept catching a whiff of something that smelled like spoiled milk. I smelled her hands and thought I had the culprit. I told her to go wash her hands and off she went. When she came back to finish putting her shoes on, I smelled it again. It wasn’t her hands. I smelled all over her body. Her legs, feet, up her arms. My sniffer was working over time. Her hair, cheeks. It was her face. I got a wipe and scrubbed her face as best I could. We were running out of time. I was going to be late for work. The smell was still lingering. What could it be?
Then I noticed it. Woobie was in her hands. I hadn’t washed that thing in awhile. I snatched it out of her hands and held it up to my nose. Big mistake. She just stood there stunned that I would do such a thing. Ripped from her chubby arms her well loved woobie was slung across the living room as I gagged in disgust. Oh. No. What did I just do? I broke my little girls’ heart. I threw her best friend across the room and declared that it was nasty. She was so hurt. I felt terrible and tried to apologize to her and explain that I would wash it that evening and she would have it to go to bed with. She cried all the way to school and had a melt down when I dropped her off. It didn’t help that I forgot to bring in “lipstick” that morning.
Not only was I feeling bad about how the morning had transpired but then I had to explain to her teachers why she smelled like spoiled milk. Really, I do give my kids baths, she just rubbed the smell from her woobie onto her head. How embarrassing.
Understanding Human
While visiting my friend, we'll call her 'E' for short, my oldest daughter who is 6 asked a question that stumped me. Well, most of her questions stump me only because I try to explain things to her without giving too much detail. Ex. How do babies get in your tummy? Do they just POP out? I don't know how to answer those questions but I do the best I can.
Thank goodness this wasn't a personal type question or have to do with any bodily functions. Let me start at the beginning. My friend is moving to another state and we were at her house to see her before she left. You have to understand that my friend has a soft spot for animals and if someone gives her one, she gladly accepts it. She has a dog that she is taking with her and now she has acquired a new cat. The girls wanted to see that cat so 'E' brought the cat into the kitchen. She sat down on the floor with Felix (BTW that's the cat) on her lap and invited the girls to pet it. This action also invited her dog Fritz to pester the cat as well. Felix was very calm and ignored Fritz as he tried his hardest to get its attention.
My girls stood in front of her laughing as Fritz tried to root Felix out of her lap. 'E' looked at Fritz and told him to stop or sit down, I can't remember which, and he dog obeyed. Amazed and giggling A1 asked "How can he understand Human?"
What 6 year old asks that question? I've often wondered that myself but it probably wasn't until I was older that I had deep thought like that. It may not seem so deep to us but for a 6 year old to look at a dog and wonder how they can understand our commands takes a little profound thinking. This in turn got me pondering the same question. I guess I'll have to do some research to see what the experts say.
I answered her question with the best possible answer I had at that time. With an "I don't know, that's a good question honey." Would it be that same as when we speak to babies? This is a rhetorical question. They don't understand us when they are newborns but they learn as they grow. Maybe it's the same as when we as humans try to learn another language. It sounds foreign to us - because it is!
Anyway. We got a laugh out of it. If only I had video camera rolling at that precise moment in time I could have captured the sound of her tiny little girl voice jumping with giggles as she thoughtfully asked that question. Yes. It was worth writing down.
Thank goodness this wasn't a personal type question or have to do with any bodily functions. Let me start at the beginning. My friend is moving to another state and we were at her house to see her before she left. You have to understand that my friend has a soft spot for animals and if someone gives her one, she gladly accepts it. She has a dog that she is taking with her and now she has acquired a new cat. The girls wanted to see that cat so 'E' brought the cat into the kitchen. She sat down on the floor with Felix (BTW that's the cat) on her lap and invited the girls to pet it. This action also invited her dog Fritz to pester the cat as well. Felix was very calm and ignored Fritz as he tried his hardest to get its attention.
My girls stood in front of her laughing as Fritz tried to root Felix out of her lap. 'E' looked at Fritz and told him to stop or sit down, I can't remember which, and he dog obeyed. Amazed and giggling A1 asked "How can he understand Human?"
What 6 year old asks that question? I've often wondered that myself but it probably wasn't until I was older that I had deep thought like that. It may not seem so deep to us but for a 6 year old to look at a dog and wonder how they can understand our commands takes a little profound thinking. This in turn got me pondering the same question. I guess I'll have to do some research to see what the experts say.
I answered her question with the best possible answer I had at that time. With an "I don't know, that's a good question honey." Would it be that same as when we speak to babies? This is a rhetorical question. They don't understand us when they are newborns but they learn as they grow. Maybe it's the same as when we as humans try to learn another language. It sounds foreign to us - because it is!
Anyway. We got a laugh out of it. If only I had video camera rolling at that precise moment in time I could have captured the sound of her tiny little girl voice jumping with giggles as she thoughtfully asked that question. Yes. It was worth writing down.
Three Blind Mice
To the tune of "Three Blind Mice"
B bind mice
B bind mice
See how dey run
See how dey run
Always on the Carnival
Always on the Carnival
B bind mice
B bind mice
Thanks A2 for the new lyrics for that song.
Stay tuned . . . more entires from the youngest musical composer ever.
B bind mice
B bind mice
See how dey run
See how dey run
Always on the Carnival
Always on the Carnival
B bind mice
B bind mice
Thanks A2 for the new lyrics for that song.
Stay tuned . . . more entires from the youngest musical composer ever.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Let Us Pray
Today was move up day at Church. All of the kids moved up to the next level according to their age. My little one, A2, just turned 3 and until today she has been in the nursery. We walked in and headed to the nursery to check her in and one of her teachers told us she'd be moving up. Whoa. Big step. Not that A2 isn't ready to move up, I think I'm not ready for her to move up. It kinda graduates her from baby to big girl. Does that mean I have to let go of her being my baby?
What this did mean was that she had to go into the sanctuary with everyone else until it was time for the kids to be dismissed. Hold up! She has to go in with us?!?!? She's not ready, we're not ready, the congregation isn't ready! A2 is not the most quiet of children. She's not a bad girl, she's just A2. She is one of those children that makes you worry about what she's going to do next. We have to keep a very watchful eye on her at home because she's very sneaky and not afraid of anything except a thunderstorm at bedtime (who wouldn't be). A1, our 6 year old, has been going in their with us since she was 3 and is accustomed to it. The kids really only stay in there while we sing a few songs.
So, as we sign the girls in at the children's station and walk towards the sanctuary, Husband looks at me and says "She has to go in there with us?" (I think his voice got a little squeaky here - you know, anxiety) "Guess so" I say. Really, I was thinking what he was thinking . . . praying rather . . . "Lord, please make this child behave and not embarrass us."
We made it to our seats and the kids sat down. They had already started singing before we walked in. As we sang, I was expecting to hear some loud, little voices beside me but I didn't. I looked over at the kids who were sitting between us and they were talking quietly. That was fine as long as they were not loud and making a scene. Usually when we go places with her that require people to pay attention to what's going on in the front of the room, we end up taking her out because everyone starts looking at us.
Great, we've made it this far. Oh no, now it's time to pray . . . "Let us pray" says the pastor. We brace ourselves. This would be her cue to get loud or ask an inappropriate question. Everyone closes their eyes and bows their heads. Everyone except for me. Just to make sure the kids were going to continue to stay quiet, I stole a quick peek. What I saw was the sweetest thing. Both of my children had their eyes closed, heads bowed, and hands in front of their chests in prayer position. Both of them! A1 does this every week but this was A2's first time in there with us. We pray at home and do the same thing but this was different. A2's eyebrows were scrunched up in what looked like serious thoughtful prayer. What could she be thinking right now? Is she really listening? Maybe. Maybe she had her own prayer. God sure did answer ours right then. All I could think about was how wonderful this moment was and how I wanted to remember it forever.
When the kids were dismissed to go to children's church, I still felt like I couldn't let go of my baby. Yes, she had proven that she was capable of sitting quietly and behaving, but was she really ready for a "big kid" class. She would still be with the same group of friends so at least there would be some familiarity. Well, I had to make sure she wasn't going to get lost in the crowd so I held her hand (and so did A1) and walked her to the door myself. When we got to the door I told the teacher that was taking them to the classes that she was moving up (like she didn't know) and that she was my baby, to take good care of her. Was that silly of me? I don't think so. I just felt like I needed to say it. Every mother out there knows what I mean, or at least I hope so.
We made it through with no incidents. I went to pick them up and only saw A1. That would make sense, A1 is older they wouldn't be together. OK. Where is she? Did she escape? Wouldn't put it past her. I kept looking, straining make neck and eyes to see which area she would be running out of. Nothing. I see A1 get up to go find her. What? She only has on one shoe. Why? I'll find out later. There they come. Smiling and running, A2 is saying "Mama, mama", her angelic voice finding its way through the crowd and noise. A2's teacher said that she was a great big sister and took care of A1. See, I knew they loved each other. Hopefully next week will be as perfect as this week.
What this did mean was that she had to go into the sanctuary with everyone else until it was time for the kids to be dismissed. Hold up! She has to go in with us?!?!? She's not ready, we're not ready, the congregation isn't ready! A2 is not the most quiet of children. She's not a bad girl, she's just A2. She is one of those children that makes you worry about what she's going to do next. We have to keep a very watchful eye on her at home because she's very sneaky and not afraid of anything except a thunderstorm at bedtime (who wouldn't be). A1, our 6 year old, has been going in their with us since she was 3 and is accustomed to it. The kids really only stay in there while we sing a few songs.
So, as we sign the girls in at the children's station and walk towards the sanctuary, Husband looks at me and says "She has to go in there with us?" (I think his voice got a little squeaky here - you know, anxiety) "Guess so" I say. Really, I was thinking what he was thinking . . . praying rather . . . "Lord, please make this child behave and not embarrass us."
We made it to our seats and the kids sat down. They had already started singing before we walked in. As we sang, I was expecting to hear some loud, little voices beside me but I didn't. I looked over at the kids who were sitting between us and they were talking quietly. That was fine as long as they were not loud and making a scene. Usually when we go places with her that require people to pay attention to what's going on in the front of the room, we end up taking her out because everyone starts looking at us.
Great, we've made it this far. Oh no, now it's time to pray . . . "Let us pray" says the pastor. We brace ourselves. This would be her cue to get loud or ask an inappropriate question. Everyone closes their eyes and bows their heads. Everyone except for me. Just to make sure the kids were going to continue to stay quiet, I stole a quick peek. What I saw was the sweetest thing. Both of my children had their eyes closed, heads bowed, and hands in front of their chests in prayer position. Both of them! A1 does this every week but this was A2's first time in there with us. We pray at home and do the same thing but this was different. A2's eyebrows were scrunched up in what looked like serious thoughtful prayer. What could she be thinking right now? Is she really listening? Maybe. Maybe she had her own prayer. God sure did answer ours right then. All I could think about was how wonderful this moment was and how I wanted to remember it forever.
When the kids were dismissed to go to children's church, I still felt like I couldn't let go of my baby. Yes, she had proven that she was capable of sitting quietly and behaving, but was she really ready for a "big kid" class. She would still be with the same group of friends so at least there would be some familiarity. Well, I had to make sure she wasn't going to get lost in the crowd so I held her hand (and so did A1) and walked her to the door myself. When we got to the door I told the teacher that was taking them to the classes that she was moving up (like she didn't know) and that she was my baby, to take good care of her. Was that silly of me? I don't think so. I just felt like I needed to say it. Every mother out there knows what I mean, or at least I hope so.
We made it through with no incidents. I went to pick them up and only saw A1. That would make sense, A1 is older they wouldn't be together. OK. Where is she? Did she escape? Wouldn't put it past her. I kept looking, straining make neck and eyes to see which area she would be running out of. Nothing. I see A1 get up to go find her. What? She only has on one shoe. Why? I'll find out later. There they come. Smiling and running, A2 is saying "Mama, mama", her angelic voice finding its way through the crowd and noise. A2's teacher said that she was a great big sister and took care of A1. See, I knew they loved each other. Hopefully next week will be as perfect as this week.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Muffins in the Morning
So, this is the first chance I have had to sit down and actually type something! I'm not sure how much I'll get to write considering I have to keep jumping up to save a life and it's kinda hard to concentrate while kid shows are blaring on the T.V.
This morning started off OK. The kids were somewhat calm and so was I. I made muffins (from a mix) for breakfast, all the while imagining I was Betty Crocker. Or was it Martha White mix? Thinking to myself, would it really be that hard to make muffins from scratch? Yes. Too much mess. Would take too long. Everyone was too hungry to wait for the muffins so they ate cereal and now I have about 10 muffins sitting over there begging me to eat them. I will, later.
I'm not really sure when the somewhat quiet morning took a turn for the worse. Was it when my 6 year old wouldn't let her 3 year old sister into her room? Could've been. Or maybe it was when the 3 year old threw a boiled egg across the kitchen which busted open spilling yellow crumbs all over the place. No, that was just the beginning. See, we have an obsession with lipstick ( the 3 year old). Every morning when I drop her off at play school she has to put lipstick on. It's really lip gloss but she can call it whatever she wants to. If I forget to put it in my pocket before we go into school and I try to leave with out the application of the shiny sticky substance then emerges the very hysterical side of my drama filled daughter. I have to peel her off of me just to get out the door. There are several tubes of lip gloss or chap stick in the "junk drawer" of the kitchen. You know you have one, too.
Well, that's what she wanted. So, husband would only let her get one. Everyone knows that toddlers have to have two of whatever it is, one for each hand. The screaming began. What fun. She kept trying to get into the drawer to get more lipstick and my husband stood there blocking the drawer. The screaming got louder. I looked over at them and noticed one of those cabinet locks that you use to hook two cabinet knobs together so the child can't open the doors, hanging on the drawer pull. Sometimes I have to laugh at the things that my husband does. It was just hanging on the drawer pull, not hooked to anything else, and before I thought about it I said "What's that going to do?" "Sssshhhh" he said. Oh my goodness, my husband thinks he's going to trick his little girl into thinking that the drawer is locked. I almost laughed out loud. Well, I guess it could work. It did for about 20 seconds. Then he left for the gym and I was stuck with screamer and meanie. I really don't care if she uses a whole tube of chap stick in one morning or not. Whatever will keep her quiet. Most of the time she only puts it on her face. So I let her get another tube. This time it was lip gloss. "Want some" she says while pointing the stick dangerously close to my glasses. That would be something to clean off. "No thank you" I said. That was the end of that. So I thought.
As I sat down to check my email, I happened to look over in the direction of the drawer and catch, just in time, my 3 year old spitting out what looked like a little white pill. Oh no, did she get into some medicine?!?!?! I don't think I've moved so fast in my life. I jumped out of the chair and somehow managed to get my laptop in a safe position on the end table and was in front of her in 2 seconds. Stunned, she stood there not making a sound as I squeezed her cute round cheeks and stuck my fingers into her little mouth swiping around like a mad woman looking for anything else that resembled a pill. Nothing. "Do you have anything in your mouth?" I yelled. Not a sound. I asked again. Same answer. No need to get excited Mom, it was only a tiny mint. By then I smelled it. You know what. Thank goodness I hadn't taken her pull up off of her yet and replaced them with Dora or princess panties. "Do you have a stinky in your pants?" I asked. No answer. Well, I had to look and there it was. "I want my Daddy!" she cries. Little did she know that I wanted her Daddy, too. Maybe he would've smelled it first.
After that was taken care of, I told her to go get some underware and put them on. She came back with pants, it's 95 degrees outside, and no underwear. I sent her back and she came back in bare bottom with pants and undies in hand so my 6 year old saw this as an opportunity to punch her in the backside. The bare backside. Why? I don't know. Are there any explanations for the majority of the things our kids do? I don't think so. However, we could take some notes and learn to seize an opportunity when one is presented to us. I don't mean punching people. After that ceased and everyone was properly, although miss matched and not appropriately for the weather, dressed, the screaming stopped and they sat down on opposite couches. The little one had all her "kids" ( stuffed animals) and blankets tucked around and over her, the 6 year old behind the cushions on the back of the couch which she's not supposed to do, and all was quiet. For about 5 minutes.
With an explosive burst of energy, stuffed teddy bears, baby dolls, and blankets went flying across the living room. The peace was broken. Or so I thought. Turns out that she wanted to make a tent with the blankets instead. "Mom, this not stay berry good". Well, now I have to go make a tent with blankets. At least everyone is still quiet.
This morning started off OK. The kids were somewhat calm and so was I. I made muffins (from a mix) for breakfast, all the while imagining I was Betty Crocker. Or was it Martha White mix? Thinking to myself, would it really be that hard to make muffins from scratch? Yes. Too much mess. Would take too long. Everyone was too hungry to wait for the muffins so they ate cereal and now I have about 10 muffins sitting over there begging me to eat them. I will, later.
I'm not really sure when the somewhat quiet morning took a turn for the worse. Was it when my 6 year old wouldn't let her 3 year old sister into her room? Could've been. Or maybe it was when the 3 year old threw a boiled egg across the kitchen which busted open spilling yellow crumbs all over the place. No, that was just the beginning. See, we have an obsession with lipstick ( the 3 year old). Every morning when I drop her off at play school she has to put lipstick on. It's really lip gloss but she can call it whatever she wants to. If I forget to put it in my pocket before we go into school and I try to leave with out the application of the shiny sticky substance then emerges the very hysterical side of my drama filled daughter. I have to peel her off of me just to get out the door. There are several tubes of lip gloss or chap stick in the "junk drawer" of the kitchen. You know you have one, too.
Well, that's what she wanted. So, husband would only let her get one. Everyone knows that toddlers have to have two of whatever it is, one for each hand. The screaming began. What fun. She kept trying to get into the drawer to get more lipstick and my husband stood there blocking the drawer. The screaming got louder. I looked over at them and noticed one of those cabinet locks that you use to hook two cabinet knobs together so the child can't open the doors, hanging on the drawer pull. Sometimes I have to laugh at the things that my husband does. It was just hanging on the drawer pull, not hooked to anything else, and before I thought about it I said "What's that going to do?" "Sssshhhh" he said. Oh my goodness, my husband thinks he's going to trick his little girl into thinking that the drawer is locked. I almost laughed out loud. Well, I guess it could work. It did for about 20 seconds. Then he left for the gym and I was stuck with screamer and meanie. I really don't care if she uses a whole tube of chap stick in one morning or not. Whatever will keep her quiet. Most of the time she only puts it on her face. So I let her get another tube. This time it was lip gloss. "Want some" she says while pointing the stick dangerously close to my glasses. That would be something to clean off. "No thank you" I said. That was the end of that. So I thought.
As I sat down to check my email, I happened to look over in the direction of the drawer and catch, just in time, my 3 year old spitting out what looked like a little white pill. Oh no, did she get into some medicine?!?!?! I don't think I've moved so fast in my life. I jumped out of the chair and somehow managed to get my laptop in a safe position on the end table and was in front of her in 2 seconds. Stunned, she stood there not making a sound as I squeezed her cute round cheeks and stuck my fingers into her little mouth swiping around like a mad woman looking for anything else that resembled a pill. Nothing. "Do you have anything in your mouth?" I yelled. Not a sound. I asked again. Same answer. No need to get excited Mom, it was only a tiny mint. By then I smelled it. You know what. Thank goodness I hadn't taken her pull up off of her yet and replaced them with Dora or princess panties. "Do you have a stinky in your pants?" I asked. No answer. Well, I had to look and there it was. "I want my Daddy!" she cries. Little did she know that I wanted her Daddy, too. Maybe he would've smelled it first.
After that was taken care of, I told her to go get some underware and put them on. She came back with pants, it's 95 degrees outside, and no underwear. I sent her back and she came back in bare bottom with pants and undies in hand so my 6 year old saw this as an opportunity to punch her in the backside. The bare backside. Why? I don't know. Are there any explanations for the majority of the things our kids do? I don't think so. However, we could take some notes and learn to seize an opportunity when one is presented to us. I don't mean punching people. After that ceased and everyone was properly, although miss matched and not appropriately for the weather, dressed, the screaming stopped and they sat down on opposite couches. The little one had all her "kids" ( stuffed animals) and blankets tucked around and over her, the 6 year old behind the cushions on the back of the couch which she's not supposed to do, and all was quiet. For about 5 minutes.
With an explosive burst of energy, stuffed teddy bears, baby dolls, and blankets went flying across the living room. The peace was broken. Or so I thought. Turns out that she wanted to make a tent with the blankets instead. "Mom, this not stay berry good". Well, now I have to go make a tent with blankets. At least everyone is still quiet.
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