She's got the moves
It's late. I am sitting at my kitchen table in our new house reflecting on our recent move. My eye is twitching. My feet hurt. My kids aren't obeying...AT ALL. Many things are going through my mind: First off, I am thinking about where to hang my big vintage mirror, smiling as I imagine my husband sweating and struggling under the weight of it as I tell him, "no, a little more to the left...no, right, higher...now slightly lower..." I am thinking about painting my girls rooms...well, to be honest, thinking about my husband painting our girls rooms...I have a nursing infant who won't let me out of her sight for more than a minute...I can't risk the fumes causing her to grow an extra chromosome. I am thinking about how close I am to a mental break, LITERALLY, I'm about one spilled sippy away from curling up in the corner, rocking back and forth and muttering to myself incoherently. Packing and moving with 4 kids is ridiculous! There should be warning labels about these things! Something simple, like, "PARENTS OF SMALL CHILDREN IF YOU HAVE A HISTORY OF: BEING ORGANIZED, BEING ON TIME, BEING EASY GOING, BEING FRIENDLY, BEING MENTALLY DISCIPLINED...PROCEED WITH CAUTION, THE FOLLOWING MY INCREASE YOUR RISK OF MENTAL IMPLOSION DUE TO THE VOLITAL NATURE OF PACKING WITH CHILDREN...IF YOU FIND YOURSELF BECOMING OVERBEARING, OVER-REACTING, FLINCHING AT SUDDEN MOVEMENT, FORGETTING YOUR OWN NAME, CONFUSING YOUR RIGHT HAND FROM YOUR LEFT HAND, SEEK MEDICAL ATTENTION...
I sincerely hope to NEVER move again...hell or high water, we are staying put. My brain can't take the stress of mediating arguments, monitoring excessive cartoon watching and snack eating, and track "who started it" while taping boxes, stacking boxes, organizing boxes, labeling boxes...this move broke my brain, I am a different person today...not a better person, just a different one. I can barely communicate in full sentences. My thoughts are erratic. I have forgotten how to spell (If you only knew how many times I have used spell check while writing this post...pitiful). I keep getting lost in thought...LITERALLY, can't find my way out of each thought, each rabbit hole gets darker and darker...if it weren't for my kids constant fighting today, I'm not sure I would not have had contact with reality...I could be on one of those drug commercials from the 90's...THIS IS YOUR BRAIN (picture of me with makeup, smiling, eyes twinkling looking cute), THIS IS YOUR BRAIN ON PACKING PEANUTS (picture of me holding a tape gun that doesn't work, sweating, crying, covered in spit up with a screaming baby strapped to my torso, surrounded by boxes, while a naked 2 year old gives me a dead leg). The best way to manage moving with kids en toe is to ship them off to grandma's house so they aren't en toe. Before you break out the tape gun and the new boxes, and the packing peanuts, put their shoes on, walk them out to the car, strap them in their car seats, and drive as fast as is legally possible until you reach grandma's house. Grandma's house is a magical place where kids can be fed, bathed, clothed, and cuddled for free! I wish I would have discovered this magical place sooner...I think deep down I always knew it was there, but refused to explore the wonder of it because I am slightly controlling and over-bearing...so to the grandma's in my life, "yeah, yeah, you were right." There I said it...tell the truth, shame the devil.
The move was hell, as is the nature of moves, but totally worth it. My kids now have a yard that isn't an ally street, I have a laundry room that isn't in the garage, my husband has an office that isn't our kitchen table...We are blessed. We are thankful. We are home.
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There's too many people in our bed
While standing at the counter, one foot on the ground, the other foot bouncing the baby in her chair, one hand holding a cup of coffee and the other hand hovering over the computer keys, kids playing in the background, I find myself pondering what to write. That's when I see my reflection in my computer screen, I note the bags under my eyes, my messy quaff piled on top of my head, my spit up stained shirt...that's when I tell myself, "It's OK, who wouldn't look like this after the night you had!"
This is a post about the night I had.
Jack and I decided to turn in early since our kids are notorious early risers...
It's 10pm, we are in bed.
It's a MIRACLE!
My body goes limp as soon as I hit the sheets
I realize how badly I need this.
Jack rolls over and grabs a hand full of "me"
His eyebrows raise.
My eyebrows raise.
Then we hear the baby burping and farting two inches from us
We silently decide it's too much work
Jack rolls back to his side
5 minutes later, Jack is making a whimpering/ whistling sound in his sleep
I wonder how he can downshift so fast...MEN.
I'm not falling asleep as fast as I would like
I keep have thoughts about the show I watched before bed, When Animals Attack.
I am imagining a Anaconda strangling me in my sleep
I start thinking through how I would defend myself...nothing comes to mind...have you seen those things?! Nothing survives!
I turn my thoughts to all the things I need to get done tomorrow, the list is overwhelming and depressing so I decide to think about painting old furniture...happy feelings come back.
I fall asleep.
20 minutes later, the baby wakes up
I pick her up, give her the bink and lay her in bed between Jack and me...it works, she is sleeping again. I look at her and sigh, I think to myself, "maybe a 5th kid is possible."
I lay down and fall asleep thinking about baby names
12am, I wake up to the sound of heavy foot steps running into our room. My heart is racing as my eyes try to adjust so I can see if it's one of our kids or a masked murderer...it's Peniel, running on her knees...it's her thing.
She leaps on to our bed crushing my legs.
IT HURT.
She doesn't say anything, she is trying to be sneaky.
She curls up on my feet and begins snoring.
I am wide awake now.
I start thinking about Anaconda's again, I keep thinking I see one in our room.
I force myself to focus on painting old furniture and baby names...good feelings come back.
I fall asleep.
1:30 am Sedric starts crying in his room.
I roll out of bed to see what the problem is.
He tells me his room is too cold, and his bed is too small, and he wants to sleep in our bed. I kiss him and tell him he needs to sleep in his own bed, he says nothing...I assume he accepts this and is going back to sleep.
I climb back into my bed and instantly drift back to sleep.
Minutes later, I hear foot steps running into our room and then a blonde head appearing on the end of the bed...it's Sedric. He climbs over Peniel and jumps on Jack.
Jack grunts in agony.
Now Jack is awake.
I'm awake...AGAIN.
Peniel is asleep.
Baby is asleep
Sedric is asleep.
Jack waits 5 minutes then takes Sedric back to his room.
5 minutes later, Sedric emerges in our room, climbs on the bed and jumps on a sleeping Jack AGAIN.
Jack grunts as the wind is knocked from him AGAIN.
Jack waits 5 minutes and then takes Sedric back to his room AGAIN.
Sedric is stubborn.
Like a bad rash, he come's back AGAIN...
jumps on Jack AGAIN.
Sedric falls asleep, AGAIN.
Jack takes him back to his room AGAIN, but stays 20 minutes, sleeping next to Sedric's bed, on the floor.
I am still wide awake.
Phantom Anacondas keep appearing in our room.
Peniel wakes up and asks if it's time for cereal, I give her a firm NO.
She disappears over the side of the bed.
The baby wakes up for her 2:30 am feeding.
Peniel crawls back up onto the bed within inches of my face while I am feeding the baby.
It startles me, she emerged out of nowhere!
My delirious mind thinks she's an Anaconda,
I shield myself and the baby.
I realize it's just Peniel and not a man crushing snake.
I ask her what she is doing, she says she wants to give me a kiss...
I am confused.
She kisses my cheek and bounces off the bed.
STRANGE.
She goes back to her room...I assume she is going back to her own bed to finish off the night. WRONG.
She brings all her blankets and stuffed animals into our room, plops them down on Jack's side of the bed on the floor and begins constructing a nest to sleep in. She is loud and takes multiple trips, on her knees, to and from her room with all her sleeping"must have's".
She finally finishes her DIY nest, climbs in and goes to sleep.
I finish feeding the baby.
I burp her, she spits up all over my shirt, I wipe it off with my hand and fling it on the floor, on to the dog...sorry Gidget.
I lay the baby back down between Jack and me.
I think about how cute she is, and maybe it's better to stop having kids now since she is so cute and easy.
AFTER ALL, 4 KIDS IS A LOT!
I lay down only to have thoughts of Anacondas back on my brain...I wonder what it feels like to be strangled? Never mind! Where are my happy thoughts?!
I force myself to think about painting old furniture, and baby names...
I realize baby names are more concerning than soothing at 2:30 am when I am sleep deprived, and covered in spit up and banished to the last 6 inches of bed real estate...a 5th kid...hmmm...not so sure now...4 KIDS IS A LOT!
I realize Jack is still in Sedric's room.
I go into Sedric's room and tell Jack to go back to bed.
He gets up like a stiff old man and lumbers back to our room and falls into bed asleep before he hits the pillow.
5 minutes later, Sedric emerges AGAIN!
He climbs onto our bed and jumps on Jack, AGAIN.
Jack doesn't notice this time, he's too tired.
Sedric falls asleep sprawled out on top of Jack's stomach,
they begin synchronized breathing.
Peniel wakes up AGAIN and asks for cereal, AGAIN.
Sedric hears the word "cereal" and wakes up saying, "Cereal time?"
Jack tells him no, he cry's, he really wants cereal.
We both yell at him to go back to sleep before he wakes the baby.
Reluctantly he lays back down and sleeps.
Jack and I look at each other with a shared thought...THERE ARE TOO MANY PEOPLE IN OUR BED
it's 3:30am...
there's a baby in our bed taking up most of the real estate...
there's a two year old in our bed kicking and thrashing
there's a six year old sleeping in a nest, on the floor, on Jack's side of the bed snoring and periodically talking in her sleep...
the dog is curled up against the wall with her toe nails clicking against the wall as she chases rabbits in her sleep...
My shirt is soaked with spit up.
There is no breeze.
We have no air conditioning,
We are sweating.
We are exhausted.
We are claustrophobic with 4 selfish sleepers in out bed built for 2...
I keep thinking about Anacondas...
Jack is too uncomfortable to sleep...
we lay there, and wait for day break...
FINALLY, just before the sun comes up, we fall asleep...
MOMENTS after the sun is up, so are our kids.
Jack gets up with the kids and feeds them their coveted cereal while I catch an extra hour before he leaves for work...and that's where you find me...
standing at the counter, one foot on the ground, the other foot bouncing the baby in her chair, one hand holding a cup of coffee and the other hand hovering over the computer keys, pondering what to write. So I write this, while my kids watch cartoons, eat snacks, and ask me every 5 minutes if I am finished.
As tired as I am right in this moment, I love my life, it makes me laugh. The best memories are born from all the moments that don't go according to plan. Jack and I had a pretty good laugh before he headed off to work about how absurd our sleeping accommodations were and what we were thinking while we lay there being assaulted by our sleeping children...
One day, our kids will be grown and no longer crawling into bed with us, no longer interrupting our sleep, no longer taking up all our energy, it will all be a distant memory that we will miss dearly. I imagine the future us as a silver haired pudgy old couple, flirting with dementia, living on medicare (just kidding! Medicare won't exist when we are old), planning our day around our favorite TV shows, looking back on our life with young kids having selectively forgotten how hard it was raising them, choosing to only remember how good it was...there would be nothing to remember if it was perfect, or easy, or uncomplicated...it would be forgettable...the challenges make it note worthy.
If you enjoyed reading this post, please vote for my blog by clicking the Top Mommy Blog badge at the top right corner, I truly appreciate it!
This is a post about the night I had.
Jack and I decided to turn in early since our kids are notorious early risers...
It's 10pm, we are in bed.
It's a MIRACLE!
My body goes limp as soon as I hit the sheets
I realize how badly I need this.
Jack rolls over and grabs a hand full of "me"
His eyebrows raise.
My eyebrows raise.
Then we hear the baby burping and farting two inches from us
We silently decide it's too much work
Jack rolls back to his side
5 minutes later, Jack is making a whimpering/ whistling sound in his sleep
I wonder how he can downshift so fast...MEN.
I'm not falling asleep as fast as I would like
I keep have thoughts about the show I watched before bed, When Animals Attack.
I am imagining a Anaconda strangling me in my sleep
I start thinking through how I would defend myself...nothing comes to mind...have you seen those things?! Nothing survives!
I turn my thoughts to all the things I need to get done tomorrow, the list is overwhelming and depressing so I decide to think about painting old furniture...happy feelings come back.
I fall asleep.
20 minutes later, the baby wakes up
I pick her up, give her the bink and lay her in bed between Jack and me...it works, she is sleeping again. I look at her and sigh, I think to myself, "maybe a 5th kid is possible."
I lay down and fall asleep thinking about baby names
12am, I wake up to the sound of heavy foot steps running into our room. My heart is racing as my eyes try to adjust so I can see if it's one of our kids or a masked murderer...it's Peniel, running on her knees...it's her thing.
She leaps on to our bed crushing my legs.
IT HURT.
She doesn't say anything, she is trying to be sneaky.
She curls up on my feet and begins snoring.
I am wide awake now.
I start thinking about Anaconda's again, I keep thinking I see one in our room.
I force myself to focus on painting old furniture and baby names...good feelings come back.
I fall asleep.
1:30 am Sedric starts crying in his room.
I roll out of bed to see what the problem is.
He tells me his room is too cold, and his bed is too small, and he wants to sleep in our bed. I kiss him and tell him he needs to sleep in his own bed, he says nothing...I assume he accepts this and is going back to sleep.
I climb back into my bed and instantly drift back to sleep.
Minutes later, I hear foot steps running into our room and then a blonde head appearing on the end of the bed...it's Sedric. He climbs over Peniel and jumps on Jack.
Jack grunts in agony.
Now Jack is awake.
I'm awake...AGAIN.
Peniel is asleep.
Baby is asleep
Sedric is asleep.
Jack waits 5 minutes then takes Sedric back to his room.
5 minutes later, Sedric emerges in our room, climbs on the bed and jumps on a sleeping Jack AGAIN.
Jack grunts as the wind is knocked from him AGAIN.
Jack waits 5 minutes and then takes Sedric back to his room AGAIN.
Sedric is stubborn.
Like a bad rash, he come's back AGAIN...
jumps on Jack AGAIN.
Sedric falls asleep, AGAIN.
Jack takes him back to his room AGAIN, but stays 20 minutes, sleeping next to Sedric's bed, on the floor.
I am still wide awake.
Phantom Anacondas keep appearing in our room.
Peniel wakes up and asks if it's time for cereal, I give her a firm NO.
She disappears over the side of the bed.
The baby wakes up for her 2:30 am feeding.
Peniel crawls back up onto the bed within inches of my face while I am feeding the baby.
It startles me, she emerged out of nowhere!
My delirious mind thinks she's an Anaconda,
I shield myself and the baby.
I realize it's just Peniel and not a man crushing snake.
I ask her what she is doing, she says she wants to give me a kiss...
I am confused.
She kisses my cheek and bounces off the bed.
STRANGE.
She goes back to her room...I assume she is going back to her own bed to finish off the night. WRONG.
She brings all her blankets and stuffed animals into our room, plops them down on Jack's side of the bed on the floor and begins constructing a nest to sleep in. She is loud and takes multiple trips, on her knees, to and from her room with all her sleeping"must have's".
She finally finishes her DIY nest, climbs in and goes to sleep.
I finish feeding the baby.
I burp her, she spits up all over my shirt, I wipe it off with my hand and fling it on the floor, on to the dog...sorry Gidget.
I lay the baby back down between Jack and me.
I think about how cute she is, and maybe it's better to stop having kids now since she is so cute and easy.
AFTER ALL, 4 KIDS IS A LOT!
I lay down only to have thoughts of Anacondas back on my brain...I wonder what it feels like to be strangled? Never mind! Where are my happy thoughts?!
I force myself to think about painting old furniture, and baby names...
I realize baby names are more concerning than soothing at 2:30 am when I am sleep deprived, and covered in spit up and banished to the last 6 inches of bed real estate...a 5th kid...hmmm...not so sure now...4 KIDS IS A LOT!
I realize Jack is still in Sedric's room.
I go into Sedric's room and tell Jack to go back to bed.
He gets up like a stiff old man and lumbers back to our room and falls into bed asleep before he hits the pillow.
5 minutes later, Sedric emerges AGAIN!
He climbs onto our bed and jumps on Jack, AGAIN.
Jack doesn't notice this time, he's too tired.
Sedric falls asleep sprawled out on top of Jack's stomach,
they begin synchronized breathing.
Peniel wakes up AGAIN and asks for cereal, AGAIN.
Sedric hears the word "cereal" and wakes up saying, "Cereal time?"
Jack tells him no, he cry's, he really wants cereal.
We both yell at him to go back to sleep before he wakes the baby.
Reluctantly he lays back down and sleeps.
Jack and I look at each other with a shared thought...THERE ARE TOO MANY PEOPLE IN OUR BED
it's 3:30am...
there's a baby in our bed taking up most of the real estate...
there's a two year old in our bed kicking and thrashing
there's a six year old sleeping in a nest, on the floor, on Jack's side of the bed snoring and periodically talking in her sleep...
the dog is curled up against the wall with her toe nails clicking against the wall as she chases rabbits in her sleep...
My shirt is soaked with spit up.
There is no breeze.
We have no air conditioning,
We are sweating.
We are exhausted.
We are claustrophobic with 4 selfish sleepers in out bed built for 2...
I keep thinking about Anacondas...
Jack is too uncomfortable to sleep...
we lay there, and wait for day break...
FINALLY, just before the sun comes up, we fall asleep...
MOMENTS after the sun is up, so are our kids.
Jack gets up with the kids and feeds them their coveted cereal while I catch an extra hour before he leaves for work...and that's where you find me...
standing at the counter, one foot on the ground, the other foot bouncing the baby in her chair, one hand holding a cup of coffee and the other hand hovering over the computer keys, pondering what to write. So I write this, while my kids watch cartoons, eat snacks, and ask me every 5 minutes if I am finished.
As tired as I am right in this moment, I love my life, it makes me laugh. The best memories are born from all the moments that don't go according to plan. Jack and I had a pretty good laugh before he headed off to work about how absurd our sleeping accommodations were and what we were thinking while we lay there being assaulted by our sleeping children...
One day, our kids will be grown and no longer crawling into bed with us, no longer interrupting our sleep, no longer taking up all our energy, it will all be a distant memory that we will miss dearly. I imagine the future us as a silver haired pudgy old couple, flirting with dementia, living on medicare (just kidding! Medicare won't exist when we are old), planning our day around our favorite TV shows, looking back on our life with young kids having selectively forgotten how hard it was raising them, choosing to only remember how good it was...there would be nothing to remember if it was perfect, or easy, or uncomplicated...it would be forgettable...the challenges make it note worthy.
If you enjoyed reading this post, please vote for my blog by clicking the Top Mommy Blog badge at the top right corner, I truly appreciate it!
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ROAD TRIPIN WITH KIDS...
We recently did a 7 hour road trip with ALL 4 of our kids...we have 4 kids ages 6, 3, 2 and 3 months...WE ARE INSANE. We realized our insanity the moment we pulled out of the driveway with our entire house packed into our mini van, kids fighting about someone touching them, or someone took my toy, she's kicking my seat, baby screaming, everyone sweating, no way to stop the noise coming from rows two and three without losing your voice, realizing you forgot your ear plugs, etc, ect, ect...and thus was beginning to a VERY LONG road trip adventure for a 2 day family reunion hundreds of miles away. We discovered a few things about our children and ourselves on this road trip:
1) We don't like road trips.
2) After 1 hour in the car, kids start complaining it's taking too long, and state this fact every 5 mins for the remaining 6 hours
3) After 1.5 hours of being serenaded by a screaming infant, I can barely remember my own name.
4) Trying to stop your kids from arguing in the car is impossible while you are strapped in with a seat belt...no one is afraid of a caged bear.
5) Kids never have to go pee when you ask them, only when there is no rest stop for miles
6) When your 3 year old refuses to sleep in the car, no one sleeps in the car
7) The Backyardigans soundtrack breaks your brain when it is played on loop hour after hour
8) Farting in the car is never a good idea, no matter how discrete you are
9) There isn't much to talk about for 7 hours straight, even if you are soul mates
10) WE DON'T LIKE ROAD TRIPS
My favorite moment from our trip was Jack's worst moment from our trip...on our way home we stopped to eat lunch. All the kids were complaining and whining and desperately needing to get out and stretch their legs, so we stopped at a local "in the middle of nowhere" restaurant. The baby was needing to eat, so I stayed in the van while Jack took the older 3 kids into the restaurant. Two minutes after they left the van, they all came walking back to the van. Sedric was crying. Jack looked upset. Girls were rolling their eyes. I rolled down the window to ask what he was doing...but one look at him and my question was answered...he had vomit all over his shirt and a vomit smeared two year old crying next to him...screaming, "mommy, I pooked (puked) on daddy! My tummy hurts!" It was priceless watching Jack trying to get his shirt off while dry heaving in a crowded parking lot with people staring...he managed to do it without getting any vomit in his hair...I was a proud wife that day. After I was done feeding the baby and the "pooked" on clothes were thrown in the back of the van to be baked by the hot summer sun, we went in and ate. The kids were loud and quick to point out the spot outside the front door and inside the front door where Sedric deposited his breakfast, they did it with such pride, wanting everyone to see it...Jack and I walked by it shushing our kids pretending they were crazy. After lunch, spirits were high, tummies were full, parents refreshed...it all seemed but a bad dream this 7 hour road trip, but then, reality did it's thing...as we walked back to our van a wave of revelation hit us in the face as we opened the van doors and the smell from the baked "pooked" clothes greeted us. I will never forget the smell of our van that day...NEVER.
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1) We don't like road trips.
2) After 1 hour in the car, kids start complaining it's taking too long, and state this fact every 5 mins for the remaining 6 hours
3) After 1.5 hours of being serenaded by a screaming infant, I can barely remember my own name.
4) Trying to stop your kids from arguing in the car is impossible while you are strapped in with a seat belt...no one is afraid of a caged bear.
5) Kids never have to go pee when you ask them, only when there is no rest stop for miles
6) When your 3 year old refuses to sleep in the car, no one sleeps in the car
7) The Backyardigans soundtrack breaks your brain when it is played on loop hour after hour
8) Farting in the car is never a good idea, no matter how discrete you are
9) There isn't much to talk about for 7 hours straight, even if you are soul mates
10) WE DON'T LIKE ROAD TRIPS
My favorite moment from our trip was Jack's worst moment from our trip...on our way home we stopped to eat lunch. All the kids were complaining and whining and desperately needing to get out and stretch their legs, so we stopped at a local "in the middle of nowhere" restaurant. The baby was needing to eat, so I stayed in the van while Jack took the older 3 kids into the restaurant. Two minutes after they left the van, they all came walking back to the van. Sedric was crying. Jack looked upset. Girls were rolling their eyes. I rolled down the window to ask what he was doing...but one look at him and my question was answered...he had vomit all over his shirt and a vomit smeared two year old crying next to him...screaming, "mommy, I pooked (puked) on daddy! My tummy hurts!" It was priceless watching Jack trying to get his shirt off while dry heaving in a crowded parking lot with people staring...he managed to do it without getting any vomit in his hair...I was a proud wife that day. After I was done feeding the baby and the "pooked" on clothes were thrown in the back of the van to be baked by the hot summer sun, we went in and ate. The kids were loud and quick to point out the spot outside the front door and inside the front door where Sedric deposited his breakfast, they did it with such pride, wanting everyone to see it...Jack and I walked by it shushing our kids pretending they were crazy. After lunch, spirits were high, tummies were full, parents refreshed...it all seemed but a bad dream this 7 hour road trip, but then, reality did it's thing...as we walked back to our van a wave of revelation hit us in the face as we opened the van doors and the smell from the baked "pooked" clothes greeted us. I will never forget the smell of our van that day...NEVER.
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Blackeyed Beauty
I was having one of those "fun" days with my kids...letting them run buck-wild all day, watch cartoons all day, eat too much junk all day, have bad manners all day...I was too tired to captain the ship that day...now that I think about it, my 2 year old was naked all day...it was one of those days. Normally, I would write off that kind of day, file it away under HOT MESS, and move on...this day was slightly harder to file away...
My 3 year old loves to put on makeup, layer upon layer until the face is no longer recognizable as being human. Today, I was her victim. She spent an hour brushing my hair, ripping my hair out with every stroke and repeatedly saying, "this is gonna hurt." She was right. Once she achieved the perfect comb-over that started from my left ear and stretched unnaturally to my right ear, she then turned her thorough eye to doing my makeup. She fancied the purple eye shadow today. I never looked in the mirror...not once. While she was beautifying my tortured hair with butterfly clips and making my skin burn from all the makeup application and then rough, swift removal after each stroke of the lip gloss wand and cheap worn out eye shadow sponge, I received a text from a lady responding to my Craigslist ad...I am selling a couch. She wanted to come see it today, I told her to come on over. She said she would be there in 15 mins...I got up, I thanked my 3 yr old for the quality time, then I went downstairs...
I walked past my 6 yr old, she smiled at me, I smiled back.
I walked past my 2 yr old, he asked me for a snack, I said no, he threw a fit, I didn't care, I was selling a couch.
I walked past MY HUSBAND...HE SAID NOTHING.
The doorbell rings.
I answer it.
The lady looks at me with a peculiar look on her face.
I smile and chat her up, as is my custom when I sell things.
I show her the couch.
She says its nice, but keeps looking at me with a furrowed brow.
I wonder what her problem is...
She says she needs to think about the couch.
She looks at me one more time before leaving...it was awkward.
I walk back in the house, have a 5 MIN CONVERSATION WITH MY HUSBAND about something I can't remember.
I realize I need to go to the bathroom.
I walk into the bathroom and sit down.
I look up into the mirror.
I scream!
What stared back at me was reminiscent of a movie I had recently watched...
I looked like the gum smacking blueberry girl from Willy Wonka...the heavy purple eye shadow ALL. OVER. MY FACE.!! I was completely purple.
SPEECHLESS.
How did this happen?!
Embarrassed is too friendly a word for what I feel.
Begin blame shifting IMMEDIATELY!
I storm out of the bathroom with thunder and lightening in my steps and yell at my husband, "JACK! How did you not notice?!!!"
He sat on the couch, mouth agape, dumbfounded as he stares at me...revelation slowly dawning in his eyes...he then says, "UMMM, I don't...WAIT, how did YOU not notice?!"
TOUCHE...but I don't tell him that, instead...
My eyes narrow, I purse my lips into a duck face getting ready to have a conniption.
The children sense the tension.
They stop what they are doing.
They stare.
Even the dog stares.
I take an exaggerated, deep, calming, breath, secretly knowing it won't work on this level of outrage, but I PRETEND it works because the kids are watching...
A forced smile appears on my face...
I change the subject with, "Who wants pizza for dinner?"
The children cheer.
I give my husband one more dirty look, just in case he thought I was done being mad at him.
As you my have already guessed, I did not sell the couch.
I did not speak to my husband for an hour.
I did set a good example for my kids...SORTA.
I did not cry about it, even though I wanted to.
I did laugh about it though...but only after my prescription M&M's kicked in.
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My 3 year old loves to put on makeup, layer upon layer until the face is no longer recognizable as being human. Today, I was her victim. She spent an hour brushing my hair, ripping my hair out with every stroke and repeatedly saying, "this is gonna hurt." She was right. Once she achieved the perfect comb-over that started from my left ear and stretched unnaturally to my right ear, she then turned her thorough eye to doing my makeup. She fancied the purple eye shadow today. I never looked in the mirror...not once. While she was beautifying my tortured hair with butterfly clips and making my skin burn from all the makeup application and then rough, swift removal after each stroke of the lip gloss wand and cheap worn out eye shadow sponge, I received a text from a lady responding to my Craigslist ad...I am selling a couch. She wanted to come see it today, I told her to come on over. She said she would be there in 15 mins...I got up, I thanked my 3 yr old for the quality time, then I went downstairs...
I walked past my 6 yr old, she smiled at me, I smiled back.
I walked past my 2 yr old, he asked me for a snack, I said no, he threw a fit, I didn't care, I was selling a couch.
I walked past MY HUSBAND...HE SAID NOTHING.
The doorbell rings.
I answer it.
The lady looks at me with a peculiar look on her face.
I smile and chat her up, as is my custom when I sell things.
I show her the couch.
She says its nice, but keeps looking at me with a furrowed brow.
I wonder what her problem is...
She says she needs to think about the couch.
She looks at me one more time before leaving...it was awkward.
I walk back in the house, have a 5 MIN CONVERSATION WITH MY HUSBAND about something I can't remember.
I realize I need to go to the bathroom.
I walk into the bathroom and sit down.
I look up into the mirror.
I scream!
What stared back at me was reminiscent of a movie I had recently watched...
I looked like the gum smacking blueberry girl from Willy Wonka...the heavy purple eye shadow ALL. OVER. MY FACE.!! I was completely purple.
SPEECHLESS.
How did this happen?!
Embarrassed is too friendly a word for what I feel.
Begin blame shifting IMMEDIATELY!
I storm out of the bathroom with thunder and lightening in my steps and yell at my husband, "JACK! How did you not notice?!!!"
He sat on the couch, mouth agape, dumbfounded as he stares at me...revelation slowly dawning in his eyes...he then says, "UMMM, I don't...WAIT, how did YOU not notice?!"
TOUCHE...but I don't tell him that, instead...
My eyes narrow, I purse my lips into a duck face getting ready to have a conniption.
The children sense the tension.
They stop what they are doing.
They stare.
Even the dog stares.
I take an exaggerated, deep, calming, breath, secretly knowing it won't work on this level of outrage, but I PRETEND it works because the kids are watching...
A forced smile appears on my face...
I change the subject with, "Who wants pizza for dinner?"
The children cheer.
I give my husband one more dirty look, just in case he thought I was done being mad at him.
As you my have already guessed, I did not sell the couch.
I did not speak to my husband for an hour.
I did set a good example for my kids...SORTA.
I did not cry about it, even though I wanted to.
I did laugh about it though...but only after my prescription M&M's kicked in.
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Fast Food Quality Control
Check the pantry, realize there is nothing amusing to eat.
Convince the kids they want McDonald's by casually mentioning the word McDonald's in a sentence.
Convincing Complete.
Operation Drive-Thur commences.
Pull up to your favorite family friendly McDonalds...conveniently located next door to the gentlemen's club separated only by a dying, thinning hedge bush.
Pretend you live in the burbs and neon buildings don't exist.
Place your order while your kids scream at you to get milk shakes and the meal with a toy!
Pretend you don't hear them asking you to spend more money and tell them they are out of toys and milk shakes.
Sighs of deep sadness emerge from rows two and three.
Oldest child asks what is that beautiful building out the window with the flashing lights and the girl dancing on the sign...
UMMMMMMMMMM......WELLLLLLL.....ITSSSS......oh look our food is ready!
Oldest child cheers and forgets the dancing girl and the flashing lights.
Realize that the day is rapidly approaching when you will have to choose a different, less convenient McDonalds with sub par fries in order to preserve the innocence of your children.
Receive bag of greasy food from the drive thru attendant, wait to inspect the order until she backs away and talks on the headset to another customer.
Open the steaming hot bag. Inhale.
Prepare to quality check fry #1. Make sure it is the best specimen in the bag.
Consume fry. Pretend its super hot so your kids won't ask for one too.
3 sets of eyes begin to narrow as they watch their fries being depleted.
Civil unrest is born in the back seat.
Whispers and looks of mistrust are being passed between toddlers.
I lick my fingers and put the van in drive...
Kids begin demanding a fry for the 5 min drive home.
Tell them they are too hot.
Ask your kids to help look out their windows for oncoming cars...steal 3 fries, consume silently.
Kids hear the bag crunch.
3 sets of eyes narrow.
Stop chewing, JUST SWALLOW.
Mutiny on the Odyssey is full under way.
Listen to your name become a bad word among your children as they realize your fry thieving ways.
Yell at your kids to keep the noise down so you don't crash the van.
Kids demand fries. NOW.
Try to explain to the impatient kids that they may die if you throw them fries while driving because its dangerous and against the law.
Kids demand fries. NOW.
Collective bargaining begins most inconveniently.
Decide death by automobile is more severe than fry withdrawl.
Peel out of the parking lot.
Cut off a low rider with spinner wheels...CRAP.
Yell at your kids.
Refuse to look out your window as low rider with spinner wheels gets in the lane next to you...CRAP.
Stop at the light.
Pray that low rider with spinner wheels won't follow you home and cap your a**.
Wipe the bead of sweat from your brow.
Reach into food bag with a shaky hand. Grab a handful of fries and throw them into the back seats hoping they land where little arms can reach them.
One kid drops their fry just as the light turns green and there is nothing you can do about it...
A "I didn't get any" fit begins.
A slight twinge of fast food regret begins in your mind...more trouble than it's worth?
Eat another fry to comfort yourself.
Three long minutes later, pull into the driveway.
Begin to disembark yourself and kids from the van that smells like grease.
Try not to drop your youngest child who is shoeless and pantless as you try to find the key in your purse while holding the food bag in your mouth.
Walk up to the door sweating and fatigued.
Open the door.
Dogs attack you the moment they smell hamburgers.
Yell at the dogs.
Push the kids through the door with your knee.
One kid falls as usual. Try not to pull your groin as you lift fallen kid with your foot.
Finally, everyone is in the house, at the table (one kid standing on the table), and ready to eat
Pass out the food.
Realize you didn't quality check the hamburgers.
Unwrap one at a time, take a very large bite. Savor. Pass to first kid. Repeat on hamburgers two and three, savor...
kids give you a look of disbelief.
But after the 10 minutes you just had trying to get them the hamburgers and fries near the strip club, in the hood, on a 4 lane road, almost getting killed by a low rider with spinner wheels...GIVE THEM THE STINK EYE AND EAT ANOTHER FRY.
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Convince the kids they want McDonald's by casually mentioning the word McDonald's in a sentence.
Convincing Complete.
Operation Drive-Thur commences.
Pull up to your favorite family friendly McDonalds...conveniently located next door to the gentlemen's club separated only by a dying, thinning hedge bush.
Pretend you live in the burbs and neon buildings don't exist.
Place your order while your kids scream at you to get milk shakes and the meal with a toy!
Pretend you don't hear them asking you to spend more money and tell them they are out of toys and milk shakes.
Sighs of deep sadness emerge from rows two and three.
Oldest child asks what is that beautiful building out the window with the flashing lights and the girl dancing on the sign...
UMMMMMMMMMM......WELLLLLLL.....ITSSSS......oh look our food is ready!
Oldest child cheers and forgets the dancing girl and the flashing lights.
Realize that the day is rapidly approaching when you will have to choose a different, less convenient McDonalds with sub par fries in order to preserve the innocence of your children.
Receive bag of greasy food from the drive thru attendant, wait to inspect the order until she backs away and talks on the headset to another customer.
Open the steaming hot bag. Inhale.
Prepare to quality check fry #1. Make sure it is the best specimen in the bag.
Consume fry. Pretend its super hot so your kids won't ask for one too.
3 sets of eyes begin to narrow as they watch their fries being depleted.
Civil unrest is born in the back seat.
Whispers and looks of mistrust are being passed between toddlers.
I lick my fingers and put the van in drive...
Kids begin demanding a fry for the 5 min drive home.
Tell them they are too hot.
Ask your kids to help look out their windows for oncoming cars...steal 3 fries, consume silently.
Kids hear the bag crunch.
3 sets of eyes narrow.
Stop chewing, JUST SWALLOW.
Mutiny on the Odyssey is full under way.
Listen to your name become a bad word among your children as they realize your fry thieving ways.
Yell at your kids to keep the noise down so you don't crash the van.
Kids demand fries. NOW.
Try to explain to the impatient kids that they may die if you throw them fries while driving because its dangerous and against the law.
Kids demand fries. NOW.
Collective bargaining begins most inconveniently.
Decide death by automobile is more severe than fry withdrawl.
Peel out of the parking lot.
Cut off a low rider with spinner wheels...CRAP.
Yell at your kids.
Refuse to look out your window as low rider with spinner wheels gets in the lane next to you...CRAP.
Stop at the light.
Pray that low rider with spinner wheels won't follow you home and cap your a**.
Wipe the bead of sweat from your brow.
Reach into food bag with a shaky hand. Grab a handful of fries and throw them into the back seats hoping they land where little arms can reach them.
One kid drops their fry just as the light turns green and there is nothing you can do about it...
A "I didn't get any" fit begins.
A slight twinge of fast food regret begins in your mind...more trouble than it's worth?
Eat another fry to comfort yourself.
Three long minutes later, pull into the driveway.
Begin to disembark yourself and kids from the van that smells like grease.
Try not to drop your youngest child who is shoeless and pantless as you try to find the key in your purse while holding the food bag in your mouth.
Walk up to the door sweating and fatigued.
Open the door.
Dogs attack you the moment they smell hamburgers.
Yell at the dogs.
Push the kids through the door with your knee.
One kid falls as usual. Try not to pull your groin as you lift fallen kid with your foot.
Finally, everyone is in the house, at the table (one kid standing on the table), and ready to eat
Pass out the food.
Realize you didn't quality check the hamburgers.
Unwrap one at a time, take a very large bite. Savor. Pass to first kid. Repeat on hamburgers two and three, savor...
kids give you a look of disbelief.
But after the 10 minutes you just had trying to get them the hamburgers and fries near the strip club, in the hood, on a 4 lane road, almost getting killed by a low rider with spinner wheels...GIVE THEM THE STINK EYE AND EAT ANOTHER FRY.
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The Forgotten Diaper
All I could see was crack and sac staring brazenly at me from behind my pillow...there is only one person in our family who would dare to get bare on my pillow, one person with a "pre-garden" mentality about nudity...SEDRIC...aka, BUBBA. There is nothing like getting your child out of the bath, having their fresh and clean pajamas folded neatly and resting on the counter waiting to be adorned on your child's freshly cleaned body. I love being prepared. I hate when I realize I am not prepared. Somehow, I forgot the crucial piece of kid necessity...a diaper. This wouldn't have been a problem if this scenario was about one of my girls when they were little...I could fetch them out of the tub, throw a towel around them and tell them to NOT MOVE while I grab a diaper in the hall closet, AND THEY WOULD OBEY. Unfortunately, this is not a scenario about one of my "good with instruction" girls, it's about my "I heart nudity" son. I knew I was in trouble as I tried to contain his squirming body with one hand as my free hand frantically swept along the counter top in search of the forgotten diaper...it wasn't there...CRAP. Sedric noticed the lack of diaper too...CRAP. The diapers were in the hall closet. My diaper fetchers were no where to be seen...CRAP. I took a deep breath and accepted my mission: get the diaper before Sedric could escape and pee all over the house. I counted to 3. Sedric put his game face on. I didn't play fair. I threw the towel over his head to slow him down then I darted down the hall like lightening. I felt hope as I approached the closet door only to have a sinking feeling as I realized my hands were too lotion-y to open the door! Squealing erupted from the bathroom as Sedric freed himself from the towel and darted, naked and proud, into the hallway as I struggled to wrap my shirt around my hand like a glove to use as grip on the door nob. I grabbed for the diaper in the plastic bag, struggling to find the blasted opening...I ripped a new opening spraying diapers across the hallway, but, a diaper was free at last! Now where did he go? I checked his usual hiding places...he wasn't under his sisters bed, or hiding under his covers, or in his closet...my heart beat a little faster as I realized there is only one other room upstairs he could be in...MY ROOM!! I envisioned him running naked through my room peeing on all my stuff...that's when I found him...just crack and sac staring at me from behind my throw pillows. Pearly white cheeks glowing in the twilight of the setting sun giving away his exact location. If I hadn't been so worried about him peeing on my side of the bed, I would have run downstairs and grabbed the camera. I picked him up victoriously and hauled him away to the bathroom to be properly diapered. I laid him down, only to have him wriggle, jiggle, free and jump to his feet. He looked me in the eye, gave me a half smirk and peed on the floor...CRAP. Well played Sedric, well played.
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Labels:
children,
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FORGET how HARD it is, REMEMBER how GOOD it is
Right after having Sedric (who was a BIG surprise in our family planning schedule), I was a wreck. An exhausted wreck. My will power to be a good parent was on trial as I was trying to take care of a newborn baby for the first time and help our second daughter Rafe (who we just brought home from Ethiopia 5 months prior) to attach and bond. Things had never seemed so insurmountable to me as they were at that moment. I cried alot. I had overwhelming guilt about Rafe not getting the mommy time she desperately needed and I couldn't see past the daily exhaustion of all that my life was requiring of me. I felt like I was getting the "ripped off" version with the early years of both my new babies...I desperately wanted to hold Rafe all day and take her everywhere on my hip and introduce her to the world from the safety of my arms, but I couldn't. I wanted to hold Sedric all day and fuss over him every time he made a sound and enjoy all the firsts with a newborn, but I couldn't. I wanted the parenting model that all my friends had: ONE BABY AT A TIME, but that's not what I was given. I was really struggling to embrace my circumstances. To embrace my limitations.
One night, I was up feeding Sedric, delirious from exhaustion, in need of a shower, humming circus music under my breath (a true testament of my lunacy during those dark months). I was at the end of my rope...I started crying, completely overwhelmed with my own inadequacy. I was too tired to pray a "real" prayer, so all I said was, "HELP" under my breath as I stared into the face of my sleeping milk drunk child. That's when I heard it...a still small voice. It said, "FORGET how HARD it is, REMEMBER how GOOD it is." REVELATION.
I still look at my life everyday with that simple advice in mind, "FORGET how HARD it is, REMEMBER how GOOD it is" The hard times aren't so overwhelming when your perspective is in the right place. Perspective is everything when parenting children. Its so easy to lose it, to misplace it, walk away from it...but when we hold on to it, refuse to let go of it, and daily walk toward it, we see what God sees about our children, about ourselves, about others. All the messes, the sibling disputes and turf wars, the questionable behavior in public places, the fits, the screaming, the sleepless nights, the coloring on the walls, the endless questions, the fighting over the pink bowl, having boogers in your hair, the pooping in the tub, the harassing the dogs, the spills...oh the spills! Its all worth it and manageable when looked at from a broader perspective, not just seeing the moments pain, but the lifetime of worth your daily interactions are instilling into your child's life. When I get to the end of my "parenting young kids" season, I don't want to look back and see a mom who was always frustrated and needing a break, but rather a mom who is passed out and drooling on her pillow by 9pm every night because she put her all into every day with her kids.
If you enjoyed this post, please vote for my blog! Just click the Top Mommy Blogs icon on the upper right...that's all ya gotta do! I truly appreciate it!!
One night, I was up feeding Sedric, delirious from exhaustion, in need of a shower, humming circus music under my breath (a true testament of my lunacy during those dark months). I was at the end of my rope...I started crying, completely overwhelmed with my own inadequacy. I was too tired to pray a "real" prayer, so all I said was, "HELP" under my breath as I stared into the face of my sleeping milk drunk child. That's when I heard it...a still small voice. It said, "FORGET how HARD it is, REMEMBER how GOOD it is." REVELATION.
I still look at my life everyday with that simple advice in mind, "FORGET how HARD it is, REMEMBER how GOOD it is" The hard times aren't so overwhelming when your perspective is in the right place. Perspective is everything when parenting children. Its so easy to lose it, to misplace it, walk away from it...but when we hold on to it, refuse to let go of it, and daily walk toward it, we see what God sees about our children, about ourselves, about others. All the messes, the sibling disputes and turf wars, the questionable behavior in public places, the fits, the screaming, the sleepless nights, the coloring on the walls, the endless questions, the fighting over the pink bowl, having boogers in your hair, the pooping in the tub, the harassing the dogs, the spills...oh the spills! Its all worth it and manageable when looked at from a broader perspective, not just seeing the moments pain, but the lifetime of worth your daily interactions are instilling into your child's life. When I get to the end of my "parenting young kids" season, I don't want to look back and see a mom who was always frustrated and needing a break, but rather a mom who is passed out and drooling on her pillow by 9pm every night because she put her all into every day with her kids.
If you enjoyed this post, please vote for my blog! Just click the Top Mommy Blogs icon on the upper right...that's all ya gotta do! I truly appreciate it!!
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