Every time I answer a phone call, it's basically a get out of jail free card for my kids. All bad behavior becomes untouchable, uncontrollable, and unavoidable. This post is about how I handle my children when on the phone. Imagine a living room devoid of furniture and littered with toys. It's the witching hour. Personalities are starting to intensify, no one likes each other right now as we wait impatiently for dinner...the phone rings...like an idiot, I answer it. Let the games begin.
Now that I am distracted, Sedric's pent up man energy gets the best of him, he attacks Rafe. She falls to the floor with Sedric wrapped around her torso like a sarong. He bumps his chin on her shoulder in the kerfuffle...its his fault, but he pulls Rafe's hair for punishment for making him (his perspective) bump his chin while he pummeled her and sent her to the ground like a felled tree.
Rafe is enraged and using her zombie Apocalypse shriek to make her displeasure known.
I have been on the phone for 60 sec at this point and I already have forgotten who I am talking to and from which I deduct: there will be no meaningfully expressed words coming from my end of the conversation today, just randomly muttered "uh-huh's" at any pause in the conversation as I dodge the dead spots in our suburban home while my children evoke each other to murderous rage and mischief.
The kids are in crisis mode. They begin hoarding food from the pantry. Sedric has climbed to top cupboard shelves and is liberating the fruit snacks and gold fish. Our kitchen is raining snack food. The girls are dancing and singing Sedric's praises below as food adorns their Afros. I'm running between the living room where the baby is laying on the floor in a sea of toys and the kitchen where the older kids are acting like desert island survivors. I storm into the kitchen flailing my free arm snapping my fingers and posturing my displeasure with a savage stink eye trying not to interrupt the person (I still can't remember their name) on the phone. The children scatter...or do they? I walk back to the living room feeling powerful and in control and naively think I may be able to salvage this conversation after all...NAIVE. All is quiet...not a good sign. I get back up off the floor where I am playing with the baby and walk back into the kitchen...the pantry doors are open. The fruit snacks are missing. The gold fish are missing...CRAP. Luck for me, my kids aren't good at covering their tracks yet...I follow the trail of fallen crushed food to the family room where they are sitting behind the couch in the window laughing at their completed caper. They are munching loudly. I appear very unexpectedly over the back of the couch. The children are taken aback. They are now choking and crying from displeasure and surprise as I rip the snack boxes out of their grubby little hands and throw them back into the pantry. They are really upset now...hind sight, I should have just fed them and turned the TV on...but, like an idiot, I didn't.
Peniel begins asking me questions I can't answer for obvious reasons: I AM ON THE PHONE. She wants to know when we can go to the store to buy ingredients to make perfume and the go to Home Depo to buy metal to make a perfume making machine...I keep shaking my head at her as if to say, "I have no idea!" She is getting frustrated with me and storms off to gather her thoughts before coming back to assault me with them. The baby is now beginning to fuss so I pick her up and bounce her. It's not helping. I begin to scour the floor with my feet in search of her binky...no luck, so I bounce her faster, she burps and spits up down my shirt and all over the carpet...CRAP. I have completely forgotten at this point that I am on the phone with someone...I mumble, "dang it!" under my breath as I accidentally step in the puddle of spit up. I almost drop the phone in surprise when I hear a concerned person in my ear ask, "is everything ok over there?" What? Is that you God? I lie and say, "Of course everything is fine! Now, what were you saying?" The uh-huh conversation resumes. The baby is demanding her dinner by violently grabbing my shirt and head butting me in the chest...subtle as a train wreck. Peniel returns. She has something to say. She begins telling me how I lied to her last year when I told her I would buy her a canvas so she could paint, and she still didn't have one so I have ruined her dream of being an artist...AND ruined her dream of being a perfume maker...I think she had a picture of herself in her head as a scientist in a white lab coat, wearing goggles brewing and pouring concoctions into a sea of beakers with one hand and painting pictures of horses with her other hand...and I was ruining it all! I whisper to her, "I'll help you become famous later...but not right now, I'M ON THE PHONE." Sedric and Rafe paddle into the room and collapse on the floor complaining about wanting dinner. The room is getting too loud but there is no where to go BECAUSE THEY WILL JUST FOLLOW ME and there are too many dead spots in the quieter places in our home, it's all working against me...the baby is soaking my shirt with baby slime growling at me for her dinner, Peniel is still recounting her grievances, and Sedric and Rafe are whining...and the person on the phone is still nameless! OY VEY. I interrupt the nameless person on the phone to express my apologies for being distracted during our conversation only to realize I had stepped into the dead zone and lost the call...CRAP. The kicker is, I still couldn't remember who I was talking to so I could call them back!! Oh well, I tried. I put down the phone in defeat, shake my head and sigh, all the while I am thinking, "I promise to never again answer the phone while the kids are awake."
Everytime I am on the phone...
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5 most embarrassing interactions with new neighbors
This post is about 2 weeks late due to some DIY projects I've had going... BUT, I FINALLY FINISHED IT, SO ENJOY!! And please vote for my blog by clicking the Top Mommy Blog link on my sidebar! I truly appreciate it!
We have lived in our new house about 2 weeks now...in one day, my kids have embarrassed me about 2 years worth in one 20 minute conversation with 2 of our new neighbors...here is what they said...in list format...least embarrassing to most embarrassing:
1) While talking to the neighbor, Sedric decided to be funny and break out his "potty" humor. He started laughing when the neighbor asked him what he was thinking about, he responded, more quickly than I could remind him of his manners, "I want to poop on your fence." SPEECHLESS.
2) While talking to the neighbor who is holding her tiny infant baby girl, Rafe asks the neighbor in a very matter of fact kind of way, "I want to see her baby boobs." SPEECHLESS.
3) Peniel see's the neighbor out in her yard, she starts waving at her. The neighbor waves back and smiles. Peniel marches over to the fence and yells in all her first born glory, "Hey! Your yard is a mess! You should clean it!" SPEECHLESS.
4) While talking to the neighbor with the infant, Peniel declares, "Babies are so cute! I'M definitely gonna have a baby when I am 17!" SPEECHLESS.
And lastly, the most embarrassing interaction in this 20 minute embarrassment gauntlet:
5) While I was introducing myself and my kids to another neighbor we just met 5 minutes prior, Peniel chimes into the conversation with this little gem of a comment, "yeah, my mom doesn't like it when we disobey, she takes our toys away from us, and our dessert, AND tells us we have to sleep in the garage!" SPEECHLESS.
Just for the record, my kids have never slept in the garage or been threatened with sleeping in the garage...she pulled that out of left field, I think she enjoys shocking people with outlandish faulsehoods, anyways...the look on the neighbor's face seemed to say, "there goes the neighborhood." I am now afraid to meet any of the other neighbors for fear of complete social ruin...I have a feeling we might be becoming "that family" in the neighborhood that everyone talks about with raised eyebrows...thanks kids. Thanks a lot. I can just hear the whispers now...did you hear those kids in that white house the other day? Are they raising wild animals in there? Do thy ever stop fighting? She needs to close her windows when they are screaming, the noise is bothering my designer dog."
Coincidentally, I have not seen nor spoken to either of our new neighbors since the 20 minute embarrassment gauntlet...I am telling myself it's all a coincidence and has nothing to do with the shocking behavior from my kids...I wonder if I will ever see them again?
My kids do yell a lot. They do fight a lot. They run around a lot making all sorts of noise that makes you wish you were deft...some days you would never know that I do teach my kids good manners, but I do...scouts honor! They have minds of their own however and sometimes say what ever pops into their minds more quickly than I can install their manners! Kids. Parenting. Never dull. Never predictable. NEVER.
The issue I have is that I am cruelly outnumbered 4 to 1 and they know it...they get away with more than I care to confess to, but it's true. Some days I am just too tired to catch everything...some days I have a short fuse and talk a little louder and harsher than I should, some days, everyone naps and I feel like a new person...but lately, that is only a very few "some days"...some days it really bothers me that nothing goes the way I want and none of my laundry gets done or we have to eat cereal for dinner again because I didn't make it to the store... some days, I cry about it... but that's when I tell myself it's ok because I love them, they love me, a little extra cereal eating never hurt anyone, and I am doing my best. Some days, eating cereal for dinner is my best. Some days, not getting the laundry done is my best...Some days, making it through the day without strangling my children is my best. I am constantly having to remind myself that I don't need to be concerned with someone else's definition of a successful day...some days, I have to remind myself a lot. I am just thankful that even tho I have a lot of "some days" I still deeply love my kids every day.
We have lived in our new house about 2 weeks now...in one day, my kids have embarrassed me about 2 years worth in one 20 minute conversation with 2 of our new neighbors...here is what they said...in list format...least embarrassing to most embarrassing:
1) While talking to the neighbor, Sedric decided to be funny and break out his "potty" humor. He started laughing when the neighbor asked him what he was thinking about, he responded, more quickly than I could remind him of his manners, "I want to poop on your fence." SPEECHLESS.
2) While talking to the neighbor who is holding her tiny infant baby girl, Rafe asks the neighbor in a very matter of fact kind of way, "I want to see her baby boobs." SPEECHLESS.
3) Peniel see's the neighbor out in her yard, she starts waving at her. The neighbor waves back and smiles. Peniel marches over to the fence and yells in all her first born glory, "Hey! Your yard is a mess! You should clean it!" SPEECHLESS.
4) While talking to the neighbor with the infant, Peniel declares, "Babies are so cute! I'M definitely gonna have a baby when I am 17!" SPEECHLESS.
And lastly, the most embarrassing interaction in this 20 minute embarrassment gauntlet:
5) While I was introducing myself and my kids to another neighbor we just met 5 minutes prior, Peniel chimes into the conversation with this little gem of a comment, "yeah, my mom doesn't like it when we disobey, she takes our toys away from us, and our dessert, AND tells us we have to sleep in the garage!" SPEECHLESS.
Just for the record, my kids have never slept in the garage or been threatened with sleeping in the garage...she pulled that out of left field, I think she enjoys shocking people with outlandish faulsehoods, anyways...the look on the neighbor's face seemed to say, "there goes the neighborhood." I am now afraid to meet any of the other neighbors for fear of complete social ruin...I have a feeling we might be becoming "that family" in the neighborhood that everyone talks about with raised eyebrows...thanks kids. Thanks a lot. I can just hear the whispers now...did you hear those kids in that white house the other day? Are they raising wild animals in there? Do thy ever stop fighting? She needs to close her windows when they are screaming, the noise is bothering my designer dog."
Coincidentally, I have not seen nor spoken to either of our new neighbors since the 20 minute embarrassment gauntlet...I am telling myself it's all a coincidence and has nothing to do with the shocking behavior from my kids...I wonder if I will ever see them again?
My kids do yell a lot. They do fight a lot. They run around a lot making all sorts of noise that makes you wish you were deft...some days you would never know that I do teach my kids good manners, but I do...scouts honor! They have minds of their own however and sometimes say what ever pops into their minds more quickly than I can install their manners! Kids. Parenting. Never dull. Never predictable. NEVER.
The issue I have is that I am cruelly outnumbered 4 to 1 and they know it...they get away with more than I care to confess to, but it's true. Some days I am just too tired to catch everything...some days I have a short fuse and talk a little louder and harsher than I should, some days, everyone naps and I feel like a new person...but lately, that is only a very few "some days"...some days it really bothers me that nothing goes the way I want and none of my laundry gets done or we have to eat cereal for dinner again because I didn't make it to the store... some days, I cry about it... but that's when I tell myself it's ok because I love them, they love me, a little extra cereal eating never hurt anyone, and I am doing my best. Some days, eating cereal for dinner is my best. Some days, not getting the laundry done is my best...Some days, making it through the day without strangling my children is my best. I am constantly having to remind myself that I don't need to be concerned with someone else's definition of a successful day...some days, I have to remind myself a lot. I am just thankful that even tho I have a lot of "some days" I still deeply love my kids every day.
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Please, No Mo Fleas!
There is nothing like sitting on the couch, drinking a soda, watching LOVE IT OR LIST IT while your kids sleep in their beds and your dog sleeps at your feet. There is also nothing like reaching down to pat your dog while sitting on the couch, drinking a soda, while watching LOVE IT OR LIST IT only to realize she is infested with fleas! I am not using the word "INFESTED" lightly...I am being very literal. Here is how the last few days has played out for me...
I am enjoying a little down time while my 4 kids are all napping...BLISS. I got my soda, my M&M's, my feet are up, LOVE IT OR LIST IT is all I can see, and my sweet dog, Gidget is restlessly sleeping at my feet. I was starting to get frustrated with her. She was making a lot of noise and kept getting up and slamming back down to the floor making the couch shake...I nearly spilled my soda mid drink multiple times...I don't like the thought of cleaning up a spill when I am off duty, so I yell at the dog. She looks at me, panting. I tell her to be quiet because I can't hear what the designers are saying. She plops back down, shaking the couch again. I almost spill again. I look at her. She looks back at me panting. I purse my lips and wrinkle my brow as I stare at her...something was off. She looked miserable. Is she sick? Did she eat something in the yard? Is it old age? I sigh, and then smile at her...I tell her she is a good girl. She looks at me, panting. I reach down to scratch her tummy as she is laying on the floor...that's when I saw the problem. A LEGION OF FLEAS. EVERYWHERE. Feasting on my poor old dog who has a very pronounced under bite making it impossible for her to bite them away. Never in my life as a dog owner have I ever had to deal with fleas! This was a first, so as "firsts" go, I over-reacted. I swore. I almost spilled my drink as I did a Ninja roll off the couch to get a better look. I combed my hands through her hair against the grain to see what was lurking in her undercoat. I counted 10 fleas right off. I swore. I squinted. I made a "I'm disgusted" face. I swore again. My mind went to the extreme, all I could think of was shaving the dog...I got up and ran into the garage frantically looking for the buzzers (the ones I use to cut my husbands hair...shhhh, don't tell him). I found them quickly and raced back to my panting dog, threw her over on to her back and began shaving her stomach...she loved it. She laid there, spread eagle as I shaved off mounds of flea infested hair. She started breathing easier with each pass of the buzzers...I did a very proficient buzz job...OK, I'm lying, it was a hack job. My hands were shaking, I was sweating, I didn't know what I was doing, so I just kept shaving randomly...I couldn't quite get it even, she looked lopsided, so I just kept shaving...POOR GIG. About halfway through the frantic shave job, my kids were all up from their naps. The baby woke up first. Flea hair was stuck to my skin as I raced up the stairs, taking two at a time to bring the baby down to watch the freak show. I put her in her bouncy seat. She was giggling and laughing and kicking her legs wildly as she watched me roll the dog around on the floor like a joint trying to find the next place to shave. Sedric and Rafe were up next and instantly began a play by play commentary every time Gidget would scratch at a flea. They started using their "bad words" to scold the fleas. Calling them poopy heads, stupid heads, stinky bottoms...they did it with such sincere concern for the dog I decided to pretend I didn't hear their toddler cursing. Finally, Peniel was up. She came down sleepy eyed dragging her feet...she plopped down next to me sending flea hair up into my face, I yell at her to be more careful...that's when she finally woke up and saw what was going on. She assessed the mess she sat down in and made the same "I'm disgusted" face I had made 20 minutes earlier. I told her what was going on...she did a high pitch sympathy, "OH GIG!!" and patted her head...and almost in the same breath asked me, "so if she dies from this, can we get a cat?" SPEECHLESS...Not shocked (Peniel desperately wants a cat), just speechless. Poor Gig indeed! Long story short, I buzzed off about 50 fleas and a lot of hair that didn't need to be cut...and she was still getting bit...after a round of Advantix, a professional exterminator over to the house to flea bomb, we are now penniless...and flea free...I HOPE.
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I am enjoying a little down time while my 4 kids are all napping...BLISS. I got my soda, my M&M's, my feet are up, LOVE IT OR LIST IT is all I can see, and my sweet dog, Gidget is restlessly sleeping at my feet. I was starting to get frustrated with her. She was making a lot of noise and kept getting up and slamming back down to the floor making the couch shake...I nearly spilled my soda mid drink multiple times...I don't like the thought of cleaning up a spill when I am off duty, so I yell at the dog. She looks at me, panting. I tell her to be quiet because I can't hear what the designers are saying. She plops back down, shaking the couch again. I almost spill again. I look at her. She looks back at me panting. I purse my lips and wrinkle my brow as I stare at her...something was off. She looked miserable. Is she sick? Did she eat something in the yard? Is it old age? I sigh, and then smile at her...I tell her she is a good girl. She looks at me, panting. I reach down to scratch her tummy as she is laying on the floor...that's when I saw the problem. A LEGION OF FLEAS. EVERYWHERE. Feasting on my poor old dog who has a very pronounced under bite making it impossible for her to bite them away. Never in my life as a dog owner have I ever had to deal with fleas! This was a first, so as "firsts" go, I over-reacted. I swore. I almost spilled my drink as I did a Ninja roll off the couch to get a better look. I combed my hands through her hair against the grain to see what was lurking in her undercoat. I counted 10 fleas right off. I swore. I squinted. I made a "I'm disgusted" face. I swore again. My mind went to the extreme, all I could think of was shaving the dog...I got up and ran into the garage frantically looking for the buzzers (the ones I use to cut my husbands hair...shhhh, don't tell him). I found them quickly and raced back to my panting dog, threw her over on to her back and began shaving her stomach...she loved it. She laid there, spread eagle as I shaved off mounds of flea infested hair. She started breathing easier with each pass of the buzzers...I did a very proficient buzz job...OK, I'm lying, it was a hack job. My hands were shaking, I was sweating, I didn't know what I was doing, so I just kept shaving randomly...I couldn't quite get it even, she looked lopsided, so I just kept shaving...POOR GIG. About halfway through the frantic shave job, my kids were all up from their naps. The baby woke up first. Flea hair was stuck to my skin as I raced up the stairs, taking two at a time to bring the baby down to watch the freak show. I put her in her bouncy seat. She was giggling and laughing and kicking her legs wildly as she watched me roll the dog around on the floor like a joint trying to find the next place to shave. Sedric and Rafe were up next and instantly began a play by play commentary every time Gidget would scratch at a flea. They started using their "bad words" to scold the fleas. Calling them poopy heads, stupid heads, stinky bottoms...they did it with such sincere concern for the dog I decided to pretend I didn't hear their toddler cursing. Finally, Peniel was up. She came down sleepy eyed dragging her feet...she plopped down next to me sending flea hair up into my face, I yell at her to be more careful...that's when she finally woke up and saw what was going on. She assessed the mess she sat down in and made the same "I'm disgusted" face I had made 20 minutes earlier. I told her what was going on...she did a high pitch sympathy, "OH GIG!!" and patted her head...and almost in the same breath asked me, "so if she dies from this, can we get a cat?" SPEECHLESS...Not shocked (Peniel desperately wants a cat), just speechless. Poor Gig indeed! Long story short, I buzzed off about 50 fleas and a lot of hair that didn't need to be cut...and she was still getting bit...after a round of Advantix, a professional exterminator over to the house to flea bomb, we are now penniless...and flea free...I HOPE.
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It got away from me
I will start this post off with my husbands advice to me today before leaving for work...I was contemplating finishing painting Rafe and Sedric's rooms out loud. Jack interrupted my A.D.D. multitasking "we just moved into a new house, so I need to decorate" train of thought with this little nugget, "If I were you, I wouldn't do ANYTHING that is gonna increase your stress or make it harder to manage the kids today..." I filed it away under: NOT GONNA HAPPEN. I had too much to get done, AND I needed to workout...I smiled, nodded, then shoved him out the door for work. As soon as he pulled out of the driveway, operation, PERSONAL AGENDA was instated. I put my workout clothes on naively thinking it meant I would actually workout. I began barking out orders to the kids about picking up their toys, stop fighting, lower your voice, don't jump off the couch, STOP, STOP, STOP, yadda, yadda, yadda, etc, etc, etc...you get the picture. I told them to go play. They would come into the kitchen to see what I was doing, GO PLAY. They would ask me to play with them. NO, GO PLAY. They would need help with something. GIVE ME A SEC, I would say. I decided to tackle internet issues...I decided to tackle cell phone issues, we barely have reception in our new house. I decided to catch up with friends through text, so my phone was lit up. I was Pinteresting like mad! I decided to decorate Peniel's room. I was half way through a Pinterest project when my son rebelled. I had shewed him away one too many times...he snapped... I had activated the secret code for meltdown...5...4...3...2...1...MISTAKE. He threw a fit about everything. I refused to stop my march toward DIY insanity. At nap time, between maddening attempts at cutting shapes out of fabric with dull scissors, I chased Sedric up the stairs every 3 minutes whisper yelling at him to stay in his room. He chased me back down in a fit of defiance. 2 hours of this...I told him no dessert for boys who don't obey. He didn't care. I told him no golf clubs for boys who don't obey. He didn't care. I told him no cartoons for boys who don't obey. He didn't care. I told him no dump trucks for boys who don't obey. HE DIDN'T CARE. I had nothing left to leverage, nothing left to take away from him...he had no intention of giving in, he was in it to win it and I still had too many projects going, I didn't want to quit either. Somewhere in my head, my husband's advice was circling looking for a place to land, but I wasn't ready to clear the landing strip, I wanted my day, my way...I pressed on painting, cutting fabric, cleaning windows, and organizing non essentials. I was stressed. Upset. Unhappy. Mean. Sweating, and way too stubborn for a mom of 4 kids. My day, my way bit me and left a mark. The day dragged on tediously. I finally hit my limit while sitting on the floor changing the baby. It was an hour til dinner. I had nothing to make. I had paint under my nails, something sticky stuck to my hair. Sedric was complaining dinner was taking too long, Peniel was wanting to show me her story she wrote, Rafe was calling for me to help her get her princess dress on, and the baby just wanted me to look at her...I wanted to cry, but I didn't...I looked at the baby, she looked up at me giggling and garnished with spit up...I smiled at her, made a few silly faces, she laughed..that's when it hit me...I LOVE BEING A MOM...so what was I doing?! Barking orders. Agendas. Ultimatums. Anger. This wasn't me. I love playing with my kids, listening to their stories, helping them do dress up, letting them help with projects...I love being happy and nice...today got away from me. It happens. It's horrible when it happens, but it happens. I have a mountain of excuses I can use to justify today, but I'm not going to. There is no formula for parenting. No manual. No advice line. No frequently asked questions page...some days, it all comes together, some days it all falls apart, and today, it fell apart. I am glad today is just about over. I'm glad I redeemed this FALL APART DAY as I hugged and kissed my kids before bed and told them I love them. I'm glad they hugged me back. I glad tomorrow is a fresh new day...no projects planned for tomorrow. Tomorrow, my workout won't happen conventionally, my projects will go untouched or slightly less organized cuz little hands will be helping, my house will be messy, but my kids will be happy and that makes my heart full.
Good Girl Gidget
Our dog has a death wish...she loves our kids so much, she would allow them to torment and torture her all day without harming them. I don't know how she does it...They pull her tail: she licks them. They ride her like Tonto: she licks them. They pretend to do dental work on her mouth: she licks them. They jump on her while she is chasing rabbits in her sleep: she licks them. They explore her nose with a flashlight: She sneezes on them, THEN licks them...one would think that she would try and avoid the children with all that mishandling, but she doesn't, she purposely positions herself where ever they are, Every. Single. Day. If you were to come to our house, Gidget would be first to greet you, she can't resist new people...visitors are her favorite, especially kid visitors. Its pathetic when a kid from a non-dog home comes over and is terrified of the slightly over weight, aging kind eyed dog...she looks at them...they scream...she tries to sniff them, they scream. She wags her tail to reassure them, they scream...that's when she looks at me with eyes that seem to say, "was I bad?" That's when I look at her, pat her head reassuringly and say, "Good Girl Gidget." That's when she takes a deep sigh and collapses at my feet and goes dormant while our scared visitors play with her kids. It's the only time she is separated from her kids...and it depresses her. The moment our visitors leave, she gets up and finds her children and licks them. Some days I think she parents my children better than I do. She has more patience than I do for the loud thud of toys hitting the floor every other second, the constant running laps around the kitchen, jumping off the furniture, spilled food, horrible smells, whining, complaining and crying...lately, all the commotion of moving and having a 2 year old and a 3 year old at odds with each other has me unnerved and short tempered and addicted to the word "NO"...but not Gidget...she sits in the middle of all the raucous, looking at them like they are the sweetest little darlings, even when Sed is using his plastic hockey stick to beat his sister, and Rafe is breaking the sound barrier with her banshie shriek. Maybe I should just lick my children too? Gross. I don't know how she does it...such unconditional, patient love...sometimes outshining the love of a devoted mother...that's when I look at her, pat her head and say, "Good Girl Gidget."
Parenting small children is a lot of un-glorified work. It takes a lot of effort and time to teach our kids the things that give roots to their character and stability to their emotions...lots of times I fail to set a good example in this area, I mean, completely fail. Sometimes I cry out of complete frustration and exhaustion and go into my room to cry unnoticed...the kids continue to play and fight as I slink away, defeated. Gidget notices. Moments after sitting down in my room, I hear her toes clicking on the floors as she walks down toward my room. She pushes the door open with her nose and peers in...she walks over to me and looks at me...that's when she puts her head reassuringly in my lap, nudging my stomach. I bury my face in her furry neck letting my tears slide down the back of her ears. She stands there stationary waiting for me to recover...I do, I always do, because I love my life, I love my kids, I love this very challenging season of raising small children...so I wipe my eyes and stand up...that's when I pat her head reassuringly and say, "Good Girl Gidget" and we walk back down the hall toward the children together.
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Parenting small children is a lot of un-glorified work. It takes a lot of effort and time to teach our kids the things that give roots to their character and stability to their emotions...lots of times I fail to set a good example in this area, I mean, completely fail. Sometimes I cry out of complete frustration and exhaustion and go into my room to cry unnoticed...the kids continue to play and fight as I slink away, defeated. Gidget notices. Moments after sitting down in my room, I hear her toes clicking on the floors as she walks down toward my room. She pushes the door open with her nose and peers in...she walks over to me and looks at me...that's when she puts her head reassuringly in my lap, nudging my stomach. I bury my face in her furry neck letting my tears slide down the back of her ears. She stands there stationary waiting for me to recover...I do, I always do, because I love my life, I love my kids, I love this very challenging season of raising small children...so I wipe my eyes and stand up...that's when I pat her head reassuringly and say, "Good Girl Gidget" and we walk back down the hall toward the children together.
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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.
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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