Thursday, September 30, 2010

Calling in sick

Have you ever gotten up and wondered "why don't I get vacation days...or sick days, at the least?" True I can stay in sweats or even my jammies all day if I wanted. But I am far from lounging around eating bon bons all day (although, wouldn't that be great? Even for just one day.....) There are some days that I truly kind of wish I had to get up, look fabulous, and go to work.

The upside-I get to socialize with adults, I don't have to lose as many arguments (the 2 year old ALWAYS wins), I can drink my coffee without cute little moochers sneaking around for a quick little sip, I would actually get to use "sick" and "vacation" days, and my accomplishments are noted, monitored, and reviewed.

The downside-I would have to get up every morning, look good, take kids to daycare, and be sociable (ouch-that's gonna be tough), I have to hang out with people I may not even like let alone love, I still won't get to win many arguments-it's not very smart to argue with the boss, I always end up going to work when I'm sick anyway, and sometimes supervisors and bosses don't care about your feelings when they give you your review.

Aside from all that, I do think us SAHM types should get 1, maybe 2 (see, now I'm gettin' greedy), days a year that we can use for....well whatever; be it sick (because, darn it, when we're sick it really stinks to have to be mom and wife all day), to play hookie (oooh, like a spa day), or a true vacation day (meaning NO laundry, NO dishes, NO cooking - and maybe some sex on the side).

It's true that I have enabled the double standard to exist in my home. My hubby has a day off and he uses that excuse all day to avoid the "honey-do" list on the counter. My boys comment all the time that "mom doesn't work". Oh contrare my dear boy. Clean underwear doesn't magically appear in your drawer, and those toothpaste slobbers in the sink and smudges on the toilet don't disintegrate on their own (although that would be awesome!). No, the work of a mom/wife is NEVER done, hardly noticed, and rarely appreciated. But to the fault of only myself, I make sure those tasks are completed daily under the cover of my "Super Mom" alter ego. Hence, my unknowing family is never made aware of the Toothpaste Titan that I have defeated or the Dish Dilemma that is so swiftly vanquished by my mighty powers or even the Laundry Quandary that I have subdued. Alas, they are never the wiser.

On behalf of all moms everywhere, I will stand up and say "No More!" We demand our sick days and vacation time! I'm calling an all-mom revolt..."Super Mom"......well, she needs a coffee break.

So, I think tomorrow I'm doing just that. I'm calling in sick. I'm not going to shower (that's nothing new), I'm going to wear tights and a baggy T, and lounge with my boys. Call it an early weekend, playing hookie....or maybe just being lazy. But, every couple years I think we need to take the day off...........and boycott the laundry!

Thursday Blog Hops

Ok everybody. Here are some Thursday blog Hops that I am linked up to. Join in if you want- look around- leave a comment- and I will visit you back.

                            freckles n' fudge 
Bassgiraffe's Thoughts Canadian Mommy Blog Reviews and Giveaways                     Baby Blogger Thursday

ABC's of Me

It's the ABCs of me, if you want to play along feel free!

A - Age: 30......again!

B - Bed size: King- love it. I don't like to be touched.

C - Chore you hate: Cleaning the bathroom....didn't you read my post about my PTSD from potty-training (and still having them around) my boys? There is a direct link between wet walls and floors and not pointing things down and aiming!!

D - Dogs' names: Toby. He's a Dalmatian/lab's a love/hate relationship...way more hate than love.

E - Essential start to your day item: coffee and a quiet moment

F - Favorite color: Purple, but with having 4 boys I seem to own a lot of blue.

G - Gold or Silver: hmmmmm-never thought about it. I actually really like the look of platinum, but I'm a pretty simple girl so that probably goes against the grain. Let's go with silver.

H – Height: I've always said 5'6, but I think that's a lie by an inch or two.

I - Instruments you play: PLAYED is the correct statement. I played the clarinet from 5th grade through HS. Truth is, I wish I still had that instrument. Plus-I consider my voice an instrument- and I can sing.

J - Job title: stay at home mama and wife

K - Kid(s): Tyler-11 1/2, Tyson-7, Taylor-4, Teagan-2

L - Living arrangements: I live with my hubby, 4 kids, one cat, and one dog-I could do without the dog.

M - Mom's name:  mom

N – Nicknames: "C"- my hubby calls be that! Sometimes my boys call me "mama-bear"-usually when we are camping. And in high school they called me "stall".

O - Overnight hospital stay other than birth: I don't remember it, but my mom has told me that I stayed in the hospital when I was really little for pneumonia.

P - Pet Peeve: People not putting there things where they go!!!!!As a wife and mama you can see how this particular pet peeve plagues me.

Q - Quote from a movie: "Sanka, ya dead man?"

R - Right or left handed: Right.

S - Siblings: Older sis, younger bro

T - Time you wake up: Hopefully before the kids-at least by a couple minutes- on school days; around 6:30-6:40. On the weekends, if we don't have activities, I lay in bed until the kids climb in with us.

U- Underwear: Of course! I like cheeky's, boy briefs, or hipsters....or anything that is clean in the drawer!

V - Vegetable you dislike: I can't think of one that I particularly dislike--I'm an equal opportunity veggie eater.

W - Ways you run late: kids, kids, kids, kids- getting four in the vehicle with all of their stuff seems to always take me longer than I anticipate.

X - X-rays: 2 in high school (broken finger and thought my ankle was broken). 2 as an adult (again thought ankle was broke and cracked my knuckle in half trying to pete-rose into home plate....really bad idea!)

Y - Yummy food you make: I'm a pretty good cook (toot, toot- that's me tooting my own horn). But family LOVES dessert pizza and dakota biscuit.

Z - Zoo animals: I love the zoo, but we don't have one close to us. Zoo animal I love- monkeys! Reminds me of home!!

Ok that was the list I found on the web but I did my own that I thought I would also share.

A-Attire: jeans, t-shirt, cute scarf...and always great makeup
B-Boobs: mine were broken after nursing 4 babies, and I would really like some "new" ones!
C-Car:2001 Pontiac Montana w/126,000+ miles, and hubby drives 1998 Buick Legacy w/135,000+ miles. We own both.
D-Drink: I love a great glass of Merlot.
E-Education: BS in Psychology and started my masters in counseling- wasn't able to finish. Hubby was in Iraq, I had a full time job, a 4 year old and a newborn. My plate was too full.
F-Family: They are my world and my purpose
G-God: I received the Lord and salvation while my hubby was in Iraq.
H-Home: my favorite place to be. I hate to leave.
I-Ice cream: Favorite treat.
J-Josh; my hubby, help-mate, lover, best friend
K-Kill 'em with Kindness: my mantra (most days)
L-Legs: They are my best feature.
M-    M-I-C-K-E-Y    M-O-U-S-E; He's my favorite!
N-Necktie: I think men look sexy in them.
O-Oranges: One of my favorite fruits (when I get a good one)
P-P90X: one of the best workouts....ever!
Q-Queen: I'm the queen of my house.....a house full of dudes.
R-Run: I enjoy running. It relaxes me and helps me think.
S-Scrap booking: My favorite hobby-I could sit in my corner and do it all day long.
T- Really??? TYLER, TYSON, TAYLOR, TEAGAN- the best T's in the world!!
U-Uniform: I'm a sucker for a man in a uniform (I've mentioned my hubby is a soldier, right?)
V-Vacation: Love them! Wish we took more of them. My favorite was our family trip to WDW last Christmas.
W-Water: My drink of choice, always.
X-Xtra: Ok that really starts with "e"-but that's a tough letter! There is always xtra love to go around...for yours, mine, and the ones that need a home.
Y-Yesterday: I try not to worry about it. I focus mainly on today and look forward to tomorrow.
Z-Zoboomafoo: One of my boys' favorite shows.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Meet new People

Blog Hop Skip and Jump Wednesday


Weird Me Wednesday Blog Hop      
         Photobucket One weird thing about me is that I hate to be touched while I'm sleeping. My poor hubby would love to touch and cuddle, but alas, he married the wrong girl!

Join in either or both of these if you want to meet some great women and read some amazing blogs!!

Mommy messes up too

The idea or prospect of being the "perfect" mama or the "perfect" wife is such an alluring one. I think it echoes in the homes of most. It is the ideal that we strive for; the image that we try to attain. Admittedly, I, myself, have struggled to portray that image of "perfection". And when I don't achieve it, I often times let the feelings of failure and inadequacy supersede any other accomplishments or victories of that day. But is perfection a role that we are called to it a mission that was tasked upon us?

In attempts to be everything to everyone, I fear I have come up short in the last couple days and have hurt and failed the ones that truly matter most. My sweet Tyson (the 7 year old) has the most loving demeanor....but unfortunately, he is a bit of a "bull in a china shop". That child breaks, spills, crashes, and destroys more than anyone I know. I don't know why it upsets me when it ALWAYS happens. But, nonetheless, I lost my temper with that poor kiddo when he, once again, spilled a drink. We had just bought an icee at the convenient store- it was a mommy/Tyson treat...just the 2 of us. It's a joy to have them one-on-one occasionally; to talk to them without all of the distraction that accompanies a house of six!

 Anyway, when we got home that poor kiddo was trying to help me carry the chips in for supper and lost his grip on everything dropping his just-bought drink....splattering it ALL over the floor, the cabinets, the appliances. He was trying soooo hard to clean it all up, but in my quick temper and oversight, I focused on the MESS and not the child. Hindsight is 20/20 (I hate that darn saying). And I could have reacted much, much differently- teaching my child a more valuable lesson about patience and forgiveness...and ultimately love. Instead, he learned that mommy's floor is more important, and that anger is the choice reaction.

I have learned in the past years that forgiveness is a valuable gift. After my ranting and raving, a voice reminded me of my errors and that an apology and asking for forgiveness was necessary. As the parent, I think it is very hard to admit to our kids when we are wrong and ask them to forgive us...but that is exactly what I needed to do. I searched out my son, hugged him, and told him how sorry I was for losing my temper. Things are just things- I want my kids to know that they are much more valuable than the time it took to clean up a mess. I asked for his forgiveness which he graciously granted- isn't it crazy how forgiving kids are? If we could only keep that loving spirit we have as children and carry it into our adulthood, the world would be a much more wonderful place.

Of course, one would think that I had learned from the error of my ways. But, alas, I am human....and I mess up all the time. My oldest son came home last night with the unfortunate news of less-than-appealing grades in a couple of his classes. Tyler just entered middle school which is QUITE an adjustment, to say the least. My dear oldest son is my child that doesn't need much disciplining from me...he beats himself up way more than I ever could. Nonetheless, I rode him pretty hard about responsibility, expectations, and privileges being revoked....and in that ranting, that familiar voice spoke a little louder..."love the child", "help the child", "hold the child". My disappointment melted quickly as I grabbed my kiddo and held him. He was sobbing uncontrollably, and my heart ached to help him. As I held him, a conversation I had had with another mom at a soccer game the night before echoed in my head. She talked about focusing on what our children do right...not what they do wrong. Truer words have never been spoken. My son had 2 classes that he had "A's" in-what was he doing so well in those classes that we could incorporate into the classes in which he was struggling?

Through all of my mess ups, screw ups, downfalls, and mistakes I have realized that striving for that illusion of  "perfection" is just illusion, a facade, a mirage in the heat. It is an unattainable expectation that was launched upon us as young and carried into our adulthood. And I have, unfortunately, tried to heap it upon my family. But I am fighting to break that cycle.

I need to have a quieter presence and be slower to react....quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger- anger does not bring about a righteous life. That is the lesson I want to leave my kids....not a house that has to look good to others and an image of perfection. We are human and thus we will always make mistakes. But the glory appears in how we act and react in those moments of failure. I am called to have a more loving and patient spirit...not one of perfection. That title belongs to One much more worthy than me.

Thank you for redemption and grace. Thank you for the unconditional love and forgiveness of my small. Thank you for the lessons learned when I mess up. And thank you for second chances, new days, and brighter beginnings.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Tuesday Train Blog Hop


I've started joining in on some blog hops-it's a great way to meet some wonderful women and visit some amazing blogs that offer giveaways, freebies, coupon codes, wonderful words of wisdom, and worthwhile poderings. Join in if you would like- put the kids down for nap, grap a cup of coffee, and read some amazing blogs!

Sisterhood of the potty-training pants

I have 4 little boys; 3 of which are potty trained. But I have one more kiddo to help venture through this right of passage into big boy-dom. After teaching 3 little dudes to "push it down" and how to aim (that's still a work in progress), I dare to say I am anything but a novice in this area.

My walls have been assaulted by the feared, yet unfortunately common, rogue weenie-whacker, the likes of which lurk around every corner in my house. The all-too-familiar squish of my sock in a yellow puddle hiding around the base of my toilet has left me more than a little suspicious when entering my bathroom. And I have learned that I must always investigate the toilet seat before placing my "delicates" upon its surface.

My boys, you see, are at a disadvantage when introduced to this scary proposition of "potty-training". It is no mystery; I pee sitting down, and my anatomy is vastly different from that of my boys. Yet, I am the one who was tasked to lead my boys on this journey which I fear I am "unequipped", you might say, to proceed as the authority on this subject. Nonetheless, I'm the man. I admit, I have referred to this "expedition" if you will,  as if it were a scary bedtime story, the horrors of which no mom should be subjected. Discoveries of poo-patties in uder-roos and the dreaded detection of little brown smears and deposits left innocently along my toilet seat have left me traumatized and more than a little apprehensive.

I have dreaded potty-training with each of my dudes. It has been a struggle, a battle of wills you might say to which the defeated go the spoils. Forcing, ordering, demanding, bartering, begging-all of which have deemed my efforts unrewarding. There is nothing I have not tried- plastic training pants, pull-ups, the "weekend plan", even naked days. None seemed to breed success. Many others have offered their own personal insight and expertise in this area, but I have determined that the secret lies in the child.

To the chagrin of grandmas, aunts and friends, I left the decision "to train or not to train" up to my child. I had fought the battle twice before and learned a few things down that messy path. Whether you start "training" at two or three or even four, it is the parent that is being "trained". Racing the said child down the hall, hurdling whoever or whatever is in the way, in hopes to reach the target in time or setting a timer and making the child attend "toilet time" on a schedule is all part of the curriculum of "potty training". And those trials and tribulations have left many a mother scarred for life.

So with our third son I decided to go against peer pressure and common ritual. No forcing or demanding. No begging or pleading. No poo-poo patties or peeling off of saturated training pants. I let my child decide when, how and where. It was his battle to be fought; his decision to be made; his joy to share...................and the victory belongs to the child.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Meet Me on Monday- blog hop


1.  How many TV’s do you have in your home? 4
2.  What is on your bedside table (nightstand)? my bible, a recipe holder that I write down things from our day, date it and put in the box, a pen and notebook , and my alarm clock
3.  How many pair of shoes do you own? about 30- I consistently wear 3 of them!
4.  Can you change a flat tire? of course- had to when my  hubby was TDY. It was me my 4 boys and my mom outside my cousins wedding. Nobody helped me.
5.  Do you prefer sweet treats or salty treats? ooohh-tough one. Depends on the day- but usually dark chocolate is my go-to indulgence.

Seize the moment

I know. I know- "seize the moment"- what a cliche. But I've decided I need to do just that. I don't normally think of my day in "moments"; it's more of a "to-do" list and "schedule of events". Dishes-check; laundry-check; dusting-check; prepare supper-check; pick-up from cross country and deliver to soccer-check. Very often I get all caught up in what I have to do, what I have to get done, where do I need to be......that I have forgotten that my most important item on my "to-do" list has absolutely nothing to do with the state of my laundry, the cleanliness of my home, or what time I need to chauffeur my kids. No, my most important job - or privilege- is making the most of my moments with my boys.

I have to confess that I quite often, put my kids off to do "just one more thing". I make them try to tell me their super important story while I switch the laundry and then run upstairs to check supper. But when I am speaking to them, I require their undivided attention and eyes to be looking into mine. Shouldn't I offer the same consideration back to the ones who are the MOST important to me?? Of course the answer is yes, and of course I believe that. But why is it so easy to make my children wait for my attention while I scurry to pick up toys, rotate laundry, brown the hamburger, and (gasp) check my email!?

Shame on me, shame on me, indeed. My children are my greatest accomplishment, blessing, and responsibility. My mother has always told me that my children will never remember if the house was dirty or the dishes weren't washed. What they will remember is playing (another) game of Candyland, taking time to play frisbee- even if it is chilly out, listening to my son tell me about "this really cool thing that happened at school", or sitting down to read a story that my child has been begging me to do all day. Those are the moments my boys will grow up and remember.

So the next time my kiddo is following me around trying to tell me his story, I'm going to STOP what I'm doing and look him in the eye...because I really do care and want to know...and it makes him feel important and loved. My 11 year old is on the verge of trying to become a man, and I have limited moments where he is going to chase me down trying to tell me about his day. My 7 year old isn't going to want to sing me his songs from music class forever- I need to listen now. My 4 year old isn't going to carry a frisbee around all day for too much longer waiting for me to take 10 minutes to play with him. And my 2 year old isn't going to want me to "hold you" (that's how he says he wants held) forever. My little boys are growing up. I only get to have them in my grasp for a short time. So today....I'm going to "seize the moment" and make it count.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Things that make my heart happy

* "I wouw wu" from my 2 year old (for those who don't speak toddlerese, this is "I love you")
* When my son blows me a kiss to keep in my pocket so I don't miss him when he's gone
* Random hugs (big bear hugs) from my oldest son
* When the 2 year old holds my finger as we walk up the street
* My 7 year old rubbing my arm and saying, "I like skin"
* Hanging Christmas lights with my family
* Round-robin "I love you"s at the dinner table
* A hot cup of coffee in the morning
* Singing "Happy Birthday" to my kids
* Watching the kids play on the floor with daddy
* Christmas morning and the joy on my little one's faces
* Family sledding down the hill
* Uncontrollable giggles of my children
* How my kids light up when they see daddy walk in the front door
* Playing family card games in our tent during camping trips
* Family bike rides/runs
* Cuddling with my boys

Saturday, September 25, 2010

These are a few of my favorite things

(sing to the song from "The Sound of Music")

Pet rocks and ant farms and night-catching of bugs;
"I love you's" and kisses and "Good Morning" hugs;
Sledding and snow-ball fights and all that winter brings;
These are a few of my favorite things.

Baseball and soccer and cross country meets;
Cookies and fudge and Holiday sweets;
Flip-flops and Velcro straps and shoes without strings;
These are a few of my favorite things.

Canon balls and sprinklers and water balloon fights;
Charades and lots of smores by campfire light;
Last day of school breeds excitement in spring;
These are a few of my favorite things.

When the dog bites, (it's happened)
When the bee stings, (2 times)
When I'm feeling sad,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And then I don't feel so bad.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Big Girls Don't Cry

I was enjoying a day of blog-hopping on Wednesday. Since I am new to this adventure, I was hopping to as many blogs as my kids would allow and very much enjoying the diversity that I was finding. But one blog stopped me cold. She had a countdown to the return of her deployed husband. I couldn't read blog hopping was done. I apologize now to her for not staying on her site longer or leaving a comment, but the memories her countdown conjured up were not ones that I wanted to entertain.

I know exactly what it's like to send a husband to war. I don't talk about the one really wants to know what the spouse left behind goes through, feels, fears. No one wants to let her cry and confess her deepest darkest thoughts...the reality of War is very scary. Please indulge me for just a moment:

I remember, very vividly, the birth of our 2nd born son, Tyson (he is now 7 1/2). It was a cold morning of a normal spring blizzard. I drove myself to the hospital for my scheduled induction leaving my 4 year old in the apartment with Great Grandma for the day. My OB/GYN had approved inducing me early in hopes that daddy would get to come home and meet his child before he left for war. He had been at mobilization station for the last 3 months, and their unit had just received orders to leave for Iraq.

I won't bore you with the details of delivery-they are all terrible, aren't they? Actually, all of my deliveries have been very joyous...but this one was different. All the nurses and staff new my predicament, but nobody really wanted to say anything. There was an obvious discomfort that hung in the air that day...for everyone.

After a very horrible and hard delivery, my new baby Tyson was swiftly taken by a team that rushed into my room. The cord had been wrapped around his teeny-tiny neck. As they took him, I had no one to hold my hand, to kiss my forehead, to share a tear. I held my head high and didn't cry as they stitched me up and left me in the room.....all alone...still having not brought my baby back. Loneliness is very echoed throughout that delivery room. It mocked me from every corner. I have never before alone.

I was taxied to my shared room and soon after arrival, they brought my sweet babe to me....all swaddled, and clean, and awake. He was the most beautiful site to behold. I just stared at that boy.....wondering.....will he know his daddy, will I be able to raise him, how am I going to do do this, I feel so lost, who is going to help me, what am I going to do.....will he ever know his daddy? I got very little sleep that night......loneliness and raw fear are demons in the dark of the night. I just held my new little guy and wondered....and never cried.

Daddy arrived the next a rush of family who wanted to hug him and meet the baby. It was all very overwhelming....everyone wanted some time...and I didn't get any. He was home for 3 days, and we never had a moment together. And no one, no one, asked me how I was doing, squeezed my hand to say "I've got your back", held me so I could cry. No one. And so....I never cried.

We took my husband to the airport- the weather was nice the days he was home, but today it was very cold; the wind slapped with anger. I hugged him goodbye, gave him a kiss, and watched him walk to his plane...hoping I would see his face again. My chin was steady and my head was held high as, without a tear, I took my boys home- a single mommy to two little men. The thoughts that echoed in my mind were pushed into a deep dark hidden place. The luxury of entertaining these thoughts wasn't an option. After all, I had to be a mommy.

It was 7 weeks before I spoke to my husband again. We communicated through letters which I still have in a sacred box that no one gets to touch. The elation of finding his letter in my mailbox was intoxicating. I would rip it open like a kid on Christmas morning. For weeks, I would read and re-read his words until the next letter arrived. I would hold it close to my heart, I would smell it hoping it would contain some scent of my hubby. It was all I had of him.

But in that year that he was gone, I don't remember crying. It really wasn't an option- I had two precious babies to protect, raise, and influence. Even now, this memory doesn't bring tears- I simply won't allow it. My husband leaves for his second deployment in May to Afghanistan. The news was jolting and threatened an eruption of emotions. But I clenched my jaw, bit my lip, and had the conversations with my husband (for the second time in our marriage) about his funeral and burial wishes and plans for our kids. We haven't told our boys-it's not news they need to be concerned with yet. I push the thoughts, fears, what ifs down deep every day....I don't allow them to affect me....after all, I have 4 precious blessings to protect. I am a mom, a proud military wife..........and I can't cry. I won't cry. I am a big girl...........................and big girls don't cry.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Service Engine Soon

I've been married for almost 11 years (some days it feels like it's been A LOT longer than that but that is clearly another topic for another day) during which I've delivered 4 beautiful, healthy, BIG baby boys (my smallest was 8 pounds). I've also become much more of a "girly-girl" than I was when I met my hubby at 19 (wow that was a long time ago). I was pretty simple- didn't use a lot of makeup, didn't color my hair, had no money so clothing was more of a necessity than a luxury- low maintenance, if you will. However, I've come into my own regarding the unique requirements of the female species. Basically, I've become more high maintenance. My hubby says I've gotten better with age.....kind of like a fine wine (I'm taking that as a compliment- what it really means is I wasn't as attractive when we met as he finds me now- or so that's how I am interpreting it). I am going to chalk it up to the simpler days in life.....when I didn't NEED to do as much to be cute (those were the days).

Now I look in the mirror and scare myself. I certainly hope my children aren't scared by the Crypt Keeper serving them breakfast! My hubby says I'm beautiful, but we all know he would like sex tonight (and future nights) so telling me that I'm getting scarier with age doesn't bode well for him. I am, regrettably, at that age where preventative and corrective maintenance and necessary repairs are no longer a suggestion acquired from a magazine article later to be disregarded. Quite the contrary, they are now necessary improvements essential to prevent hubby from trading me in for a younger model.

With that said, there is significant expense that accompanies this so-called required maintenance. I am currently suffering from the "Too many unexpected expenses prevent mommy from visiting optional (read-necessary) hair appointment" syndrome. In short, I have very visible roots. My hubby referred to me last night as a "half-n-half". You see, I am a blonde by nature, but somewhere in 30+ years....that changed. Now I must pay incredible amounts to restore my once youthful natural color. To my chagrin, I have also noticed my less-than-vibrant skin tone. Makeup isn't an option, it's a necessity. Freckles, sun spots, wrinkles and the like that comes with "aging" have all left their mark. Some say it's the sign of wisdom; I say it's the sign that I need to invest in some serious anti-aging arsenal and make an appointment with a local Botox professional asap!

Requirements of clothing have gotten more difficult and demanding now that I have had kiddos. Bras that define, lift and accentuate are a must- and they come with a hefty price. Apparel needs to fit and flatter the right curves in the right way, and all of a sudden, I am faced with the issue of "age appropriateness". Slimmers, shapers, smoothers....the likes of which I'd rather still be unaware.

As we travel downward, I would like to mention that I am completely NOT against the restoration and "plumpification" of my once perky, but now unresponsive, breasts. They now lack the ability to "stand at attention", if you will. I think breastfeeding should come with a warning label: "Constant and continual use will lead to shrinking, sagging, and possible deformation". We should have to sign a release before proceeding.

Stretch marks and skin that has lost its ability to "bounce back". Spider veins. Disappearing butt. Achy swollen feet. All lead me to believe that my trade-in value is decreasing by the moment. I am convinced that I am in need of my 100,000 mile overhaul. My "service engine soon" light demands attention!

So I ask , fellow woman, do we run from this challenge? Do we hide in the shadows? Or do we turn and face it head on? I choose to "fight the good fight" and employ any and all means possible to defend against the wrath of age. Salon visits I shall attend; creams I shall apply; peels I shall suffer through; going under the knife- the money I should only hope to find.  I am prepared for this battle. And if I can't beat and overcome the maladies of age,  then I will mask it every step of the way.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Ode to a great night's sleep

Sleep, oh precious sleep, you are but a dream that I miss.
Your pleasurable relief I long for more than my lover's kiss.
Sleep, oh precious sleep, you taunt with the darkness of night.
But "to-do" lists and worries and aches keep me out of your sight.

You look so pleasant when on the faces of my small.
The solace you bring them surrenders them all.
And my hubby is easily captured under your spell.
To venture into dreamland where he will rest so well.

I search for you often hoping to meet midday or late.
To no avail, I lay in the quiet and seem just to wait.
As "need to's" and "should do's" and guilts in my head make endless sound.
So sleep for this mommy through the night shan't be found.

Sleep, oh precious sleep, my body cries where did you go?
Why would you allude me when I now need you so?
Your mysterious appearance and restorative mend
I believe you are merely an urban legend.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Help Wanted

Job description and requirements

Looking for a self-motivated individual willing to put in long hours on the job. You will be required to undergo interrupted sleep while still rising early to guarantee that daily operations start on time and run smoothly. Applicants must be able to multitask in a way that is both efficient and effective while maintaining a positive, upbeat attitude and demeanor. Crankiness will not be tolerated and suggestions regarding procedures is highly frowned upon. There will be days with little or no breaks and you must be willing to complete assigned tasks without expectation of gratitude or acknowledgement. Daily responsibilities include, but are not limited to, preparing, serving and cleaning up after three balanced meals and two snacks; pick up, organize, and put away scattered toys throughout the "workplace"- occasionally, some rooms will need to be cleaned more than once; disinfect all surfaces and the floor in the bathroom; laundry will need to be sorted, washed, dried, folded and put away in designated locations. Applicant will also be required to taxi employer and his subordinates to and from their scheduled appointments which occur daily. Some appointments may overlap, so an ability to be two places at once would be helpful. Attention to detail is a must. It disrupts the schedule if required items, apparel, or gear are forgotten or lost in transit. Please try to avoid this at all costs. All of these daily tasks must be completed while also maintaining grocery supply, pet care, and possible, yet unavoidable, disciplinary opportunities involving those in your care. The willingness to perform these tasks-and any additional duties assigned by employer-without expectation of payment is strongly encouraged. Interested applicants can apply under the name of : MOM.

Out of the mouths of babes

Many of the things my kids say can melt my heart. In the same breath they can make me laugh out loud! They view many aspects of this world through innocent and naive eyes. Their honesty can be simple, sweet....and brutal. I have been documenting cute things my kids have said for years. To say the least, my kids live in a very colorful world!

* when I was pregnant with TJ (#3), my then 3 year old, Tyson, told everyone that "mommy ate a baby". That's as much of the "birds and bees" that he needs to know!

* In the summer of 06, I was SUPER pregnant with kiddo #3. It was another very very hot summer day, and we had been stuck inside the house all day. For an outing, we (Ty, Tys and I) went to Wal-Mart to all of our baby supplies. Before going to the store, we stopped to fill the van with gas. Right away in the store I ran into an old acquaintance. As we were catching up, Tyson (3 yrs old) - at this point he is climbing in and out of the cart- proudly announced that "mom's got gas!!" I was mortified and stammered to try and explain what he was talking about....but there's really no way to come out "smelling like roses" in that situation.

* all of my boys say "I love you so, so much"- melts my heart (especially when they have a little lisp!)

* When Ty (#1) was 4 he called his Uncle Mel "Uncle Melt"- that one is still pretty sweet.

* when looking at a Victoria's Secret magazine Ty (again 4 years old) said it made his "weenie whacker feel funny". Great. It starts so young!

* Tyson called Ninja Turtles "Ninja turds" when he was 3 1/2

*  Tyson was getting naked to put his jammies on (he was 3 1/2- this was a very colorful year for him!!) when he told me not to look because he didn't want me to see his "underbutt".

* Tyson (again!) was taking a shower with me (sometimes when they are little, the only way to get a shower is to invite them all in with you!!) and he was investigating "himself". He looked up at me with his sweet little 3 1/2 year old eyes and very seriously told me that he "had pimples in here". Holding back a chuckle, I had to explain to him that he was indeed ok...and that they weren't actually pimples.

* Still 3 1/2, Tyson was running around naked (it's a theme in our house) and trying hard to satisfy an itch. I asked him if his butt itched and he said, "Yeah, on the middle of it". Now, just imagine where his tiny little fingers were!!!

* The first Halloween with 3 dudes, I dressed them all as superman. One house we visited had a little boy who was autistic. When he answered the door my boys held out their buckets and cried, "trick or treat!", but the young man took Tyson's bucket....and didn't come back to the door for a long time. Tyson sat down just inside their door and very sadly said, "superman wants his candy back".

* As we were walking through the park on a fall evening, my sweet Ty (7 1/2) had to check out ALL of the duck poop and proceeded to comment on what he thought each specimen looked like. Several he thought looked like Tootsie Rolls! I may never eat another one!

*We were driving across town, and my little Tys (3 1/2) was in his car seat. He had his little hand on his chest and in a quiet voice stated, as a matter of fact that, "God is in my heart".

* Whenever I had to work my late shift at my job Tyson would have daddy call me so he could talk to me (he's still 3 1/2....he has a VERY colorful personality), he would get very sad and tell me, "mommy, you break my heart". Ouch! Pull the knife out would ya?!

*On our trip to Chicago for Christmas, my boys were super excited because it was their first time on a plane. Tyson was fidgeting in his seat. He wanted to know when we were going to "blast off".

* When the stomach flu passed through my boys, Tyson didn't appreciate the experience (still 3 1/2- maybe all of this had something to do with a new baby in the house????). Every time his tummy would get that not-so-good feeling, he would shout, "I'm gonna blow up!"

*Tyler (9 1/2 years old) wanted to eat at our island but it was very messy (who's isn't?). I asked Ty to clean it before they sat down. He just kind of pushed everything to the edge and said, "There mom. I cleaned it". I said he should use the word "cleaned" loosely. He looked at me, "Ok. I loosely cleaned it." Daddy and I got a good laugh at our son's expense.

* We were at a must-win basketball game that my younger cousin was playing in. Unfortunately, they didn't win, and all the players were very sad after the loss. Tyson ( I know. I know. He has a lot of personality!)- almost 4-wanted to know why Sam was so sad. "Well honey", I said. "Sam lost a really big game, and she is sad." Thinking that would be it, I continued with my adult conversation. But Tyson's little mind was doing some processing. He continued looking at Sam but slowly asked, "So....Sam is a big loser?"  Hmmmm, ".....yes, but don't say that to Sam."

* TJ has a little lisp so many of his words come out wrong- but they are too cute to correct: candles - "camels", all numbers and letter are called the "number g", elephant - "ephalant", piglet- "pliglet", hoola hoop- "hoopa hoop"

*We were driving across town after swim team practice and TJ (3) had his head resting in his hands. I asked him if something hurt and he said, "yeah, my feelings."

* When I was sneaking some bites of my super-secret Edy's ice cream -"Slow-Churned Double Fudge Brownie" (this is hidden from kids and hubby), TJ came around the corner (almost 3 years old). I was caught so I had to share. I gave him a couple bites. With chocolate ice cream on the corners of his mouth he smiled and said, "this makes me happy". Me too buddy. Me too.

Please feel free to share some of the cute, sweet, appalling things your darlings have said.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Children today wouldn't survive.......

My generation were victims of  the baby boomers. Most of us grew up without a "pot to pee in" but we didn't really know it because everyone was peeing without pots! Looking back, childhood was a without protective gear, car seats (or even the use of seat belts) and "latch-key" kids. My memories are filled with downhill bike races in flip-flops, hands-free shenanigans, and the obvious lack of safety helmets.....some bikers even toted their buddy who was balancing on the back of the banana seat! As a mommy now, I gasp (can we get a collective parental gasp?!?) at the very thought of my kiddos careening uncontrollably downhill without (heck, I don't really want them doing this with) the use of a helmet! I wonder how any of us in my generation ever survived.Ours was a childhood full of dangers that we would never consider letting our own offspring venture into.

Recess is the escape of school-age children. Drive by any school playground and you will witness slides with elevated if not enclosed sides, the proper amount of cushioning (to protect from inevitable falls), and a grassy area for the kids to play soccer, football, and the like. Travel back in time with me for just a moment....our playground was our retreat, the favorite period of every day. But as we ran out the doors of our elementary school we were greeted with the cushioning of....pavement, black-top, asphalt! When we fell, it hurt...a you tried to scrape what was left of your knees off the surface and hobble to the cranky recess monitor for a little sympathy. Sadly, none was to be found. Our slides were about 10 feet tall with no sides to deter our tumble. And our boys didn't play football on grass. No no. They played on the blacktop. I'd like to think it gave us character........and scars! You would also be hard-pressed to find a playground, or park for that matter, that has teeter-totters. What joys we had suspending our lighter friends up in the air making them beg and plead to be let down only to suffer the blows of the unforgiving cherry-bomb! Ahhhh- childhood memories. They make me smile.

We all rode the buses- there were no mommy pick-ups. We all had to suffer through the older bully on the bus who stole our hat, gave us wedgies, and tripped us as we tried to walk through the aisle. Most of us went home to an empty house to await the arrival of our working parents. We made our own snack, did our own homework, and entertained ourselves. There were no after school programs to attend. And we did without cell phone with GPS so our parents could track our every move (gasp!!), no computer or Wii to captivate our little minds, and at my house, we didn't even have cable. I know I was very deprived- poor me.

The very idea that we made it through our childhood is shocking! We ran around without sunscreen- heck, at the pool, "the more baby oil, the better" was our mantra. Many a summer day my siblings, friends and I traveled in the bed of the pick-up. I even have memory of riding in the scoop of a tractor driven by an older cousin. By all measures, we should be completely disfigured if alive at all! I even participated in a little drag racing with my sis as we drove the old highway home (don't tell my parents, I'm pretty sure they might still try to ground us for that one!). We were truly invincible (if only in our own minds).

Now as a parent I wonder how, as children, we grew up to be such productive citizens without all of the gadgets my children now enjoy: iPods, computers, interactive games that tailor the content to your child, books that read themselves (we called these RECORDS and CASSETTE TAPES!), and so many new "must-have" items I can't keep up. Heck, we hardly have to hang out with our children- their electronics do it all for us!

What happened to family games, playing catch, flying kites, and watching the clouds trying to guess what shape they were???? Was our childhood so horrible that now as parents we are determined to create a different reality for our own children? On the contrary, I loved my childhood. I definitely learned the limits of life. And I have great memories of drinking out of hoses (which now is not recommended), eating veggies straight from the store (which is clearly forbidden today ), "Mr. Yuck" stickers(what the heck! No child-safety caps!!!), and never having doctor checkups (now I am inundated with dental checkups and cleanings, eye appointments, orthodontic monitoring appointments....I think I'm forgetting some). The only reason my parents took me to the eye doctor was because I was continually running into walls (looking back I now see that it is truly a life pattern).

My siblings and I have fond memories of "Fast-Eddy" boxes (imagine your child sitting inside a box and then having their sibling push them....down the stairs!) and haystack races. Ours was truly a childhood full of joys. We had an absolute blast.....but I would NEVER let my kids do the things that we did.

So parents, loosen your grip, enjoy the wonders of childhood, and grab a box.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Can I just go back to bed??

Woke up this morning after a late rainy night at the home football game. The house was cold because we dind't flip the furnace was 65 degrees when I peeked my toe out of my covers. Every part of me wanted to climb under my down comforter and sleep for another 2 hours. But kiddo number 2 has to be a team soccer pics by 8am. So I fall out of bed, get dressed and head to soccer pictures- stand there for 50 minutes and then drive to the soccer field to (again)sit in the rain and mist to watch a U8 soccer game. BTW- every mamma (and daddy) should get a gold star for standing-better, shivering- on the sidelines as their designated athlete played their game (with very little complaining, I might add)! We shivered, danced, wiggled, and giggled trying to stay warm...and of course watched our kids play.

With game finally done- woo hoo- I gather kiddo and friend into the car and proceed to meet other half of my family who was playing out this same scene only on another field. (BTW- oldest son suffered a dislocated finger when another player's soccer shoe crushed his hand). Unfortunately, as traveling across town to the refuge of my fireplace, I presumably (this is NOT an admission of guilt) was driving a wee bit faster than the perched officer (he was TOTALLY out in the open---how did I not see him!!!) would have liked. Lights flash. Siren sounds. And I am now pulled over on the side of the road with wet shivering kids (who think this is "totally awesome"  that I just got pulled over!). I can't pull off the crying thing- my brain totally shut down- and I didn't even think to use the excuse (not an actually happened) that my oldest son suffered injury at his game and I was rushing home to see if he was ok. I've gotta start thinking better (and quicker) in stressful situations! The officer was completely a cutie but was unrelenting...what a stickler! He totally slapped me with a $125 ticket!!!! ARGH!!! All that was going through my head is that my hubby is going to be super ticked off! And he was.

We drive the rest of the way home- completely following the speed limit, however. Peel off all of our wet clothes and stomp downstairs to sit by my fireplace. But laundry still needs to be rotated, lunch has to be started, and we all need to cycle through the shower so we don't smell at the wedding we are attending later today.

Now I am rushing to get kids down for nap, the house cleaned up, and hubby is SLEEPING on the couch...hasn't lifted a finger since getting home. He is peacefully tucked under comfy blanket sleeping through everything as the college football came plays in the background. Plus, we still haven't gotten a wedding gift yet ( don't be too shocked...that is very typical for us!!) Now, I don't really feel so bad about getting the ticket...except I am pretty sure I could find something, anything, more fun to spend $125 on.

All I want to do is curl up and go back to bed!

I don't wash windows

Except when I was trying to force out baby #4 by doing anything that might shock my system (much to my chagrin, he was still 9 days late!), I make it a personal mantra that I don't wash windows! Mine are smeared, smudged, splattered and stained with all things child. I will clean toilets, tubs, floors, blinds, and litter boxes...but I won't touch the windows.

Every part of our house screams that it is a home to unruly little neanderthals. The carpet is stained with incriminating evidence from the forbidden and yet seemingly always-able-to-be-smuggled-into-the-living-room contraband of juice boxes and "spill proof" sipper cups (we obviously need to increase our homeland security). Our upholestry smells like dirty dog, old cat, and 4 stinky dirty boys. THere are dents in the wall from wrestling, tackling, and the like. And the windows, well you already know the state that they are in. My front door and patio doors contain sticky, jelly stained handprints, greasy little face smudges, and dirty smears where they place their little hand to brace themselves before they open the door.

Some day the carpet throughout will need to be replaced when my family is done assaulting it. There will be fresh paint covering the dirty handprints, gauges (from who knows what), and chipped areas that are the reallity of my walls. And the furniture will be destroyed necessitating their eventual replacement.

So, why, you ask, do I continue to let these little cave dwellers cohabitate with me? It's the love that has consumed me over moments of sweet-smelling bald baby heads, naked tushies running down the hall, and lit up faces when I walk into the room. I'm wrapped around their little fingers...4 sticky, dirty, germ-covered pinkies.

My children need me every minute of every wipe a tear, kiss an owie, or give a high-five. Their joys are my joys; I feel their hurts; and every one of their moments captivates my memories. But undoubtedly, they are growing up. Every day is one day closer to the inevitable day that they will leave the nest....and my fear is that I will actually be ready for them to go. It makes me sad...even now I am getting teary.

So today, I gladly stop whatever I am doing when my son stands in the hallway 1/2 naked (isn't that how you poop?) announcing a request for my presence with much vigor and urgency, "mommy! You gotta come see dis great poop!" I rush to the potty, congratulate my son on his accomplishment with applause, and wave while saying goodbye to the poop. I am desperately clinging onto the innocent childhood days of my boys. So until that dreaded day of departure rears its ugly head I will cheerfully contribute to the pep rallies in the potty, smile at the handprints on the wall, and unabashadly not wash the windows!

Friday, September 17, 2010

10 things that give me the 'willies'.

10. never finding underwear for my 7 year old in the laundry

9. the randomness of seeing 1 abandoned shoe in the middle of the road

8.  my hubby's paint-covered uniform after battle training (I'd prefer he get "shot" a little bit less)

7. the fact that my almost 12 year old has had the same container of deodorant for 2 years

6. the dog and my 2 year old seem to enjoy licking each other

5. that there is always one person at every event that WON'T...STOP...TALKING

4. my innocent nephew asking his mamma if he could, "stick that up her butt" when referring to a tampon (he's seen WAAAAY too much)

3. the realization that- yes, my parents probably had sex (more than the 4 times it took to get their kids)

2. discovering my then 18 month old with a mouthfull of deer poop

1. that my sweet little boys will one day grow up to be men and have the same thoughts and ideas and desires that all men have

Got it ALL together.

Do you ever have times during your day that you wonder why some other women seem to have it all together? You know the one that rises before herfamily to get that early morning workout in (I have that thought EVERY night, and by morning I have successfully talked myself out of it). She throws on something super cute and totally sheekand completely up-to-the minute fashion but never looks like she tried too hard. The house always seems to be spotless (I bet she has a cleaning lady!)...and where on earth could she possibly be hiding all the stinky laundry??? That big shiny SUV is clean and she flawlessly drives it around with choice-coffee in one hand and phone in the other. Kids are never late and always prepared. And she seems to be friends with everyone.....Is anyone else wanting to slap the perfect right off her????!!

She sounds simply wonderful....and totally intimidating. It boggles me to see that mom....Is she really that good? Does she fake it better than me?? What am I doing that is so wrong???

I get up maybe 10 minutes before my little terrorists bombard my morning. No time for coffee yet (for which I totally should get a gold star!), so breakfast is served from groggy eyed, robe enshrouded mamma. Workouts do happen, only during which the 2 and 4 year old throw off all the sofa cushions, dump out all the toys (which, btw, we have WAY too many of), and drag out all the blankets (we could blanket an army). In order to fit more tasks into my day, I forgo the shower (stinky, I know but don't stand that close to me then). Honestly, showers are the first thing that goes when I'm busy, frazzled, or tired....or when hubby is gone. On the upside, I'm saving a lot of water this way. Gotta "go green" right?!? Lunch gets served, errands done, stories read, and naps are like clockwork....all without any fanfare, applause, or recognition. Ok, ok. So, maybe that mamma and I aren't tooooo terribly different....except that she knows everyone, is nice to them all, and seems to really enjoy the constant socialization.

I can go the whole day- heck, the whole week- without talking to another adult (besides hubby- he doesn't count anyway). I go to the park and watch the other mammas chit-chat in their small-group playdates and think, "that would be nice", but honestly, the pressure of trying to hold a conversation with several mammas is too much for this self-proclaimed loner. So I forgo the small groups, playdates, mommy classes, workout buddy sessions for the solitude and safety of my home. If I can't beat 'em.....well, I'm definitely not going to join 'em!

I think like all of us, I have that fear of refection and imperfection....even now as a wife and mommy. But in my twisted reality, I figure that if the house is most-of-the-time clean, laundry...(seriously??? Is it EVER done??!!), kids are loved and happy (and fed...boys eat A LOT!), and hubby is taken care of, then maybe this IS perfect.

So, I'm going to draw myself a bath, scoop myself a bowl of ice cream, and send that perfect-only-in-my-own-head mamma down the street a basket of pastries and goodies covered in chocolate and call it a day.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Things I know for sure.

* The grass is green (in my neighbor's yard, not mine, because he has automatic sprinklers), the sky is blue (except when it's storming becasue then it's gray), and after nursing 4 babies, my boobs aren't where they used to be!

* The moon controls the tide, the sun always rise and sets (some think this has something to do with them), and I am hairy-er since having kids!

* There are 24 hours in a day (except when you travel with 4 kids to Disney World, and then there are waaaay more), 1 + 1 =2, and the Volleyball team is going to win the state championship (what can I say, I sleep with the head coach??!!)

* Boys have a penis, girls have a vagina (or a weenie whacker and yanna benieni in my house), and no, my hubby will not make the bed (even if he WAS the last one awake) or put his cereal bowl into the dishwasher.

* That magic cream WON'T make me look younger, that expensive eyeliner IS going to smudge, and that outfit DOES make my butt look big.

* The toddler put my toothbrush in the toilet, he sucked on my kabuki makeup brush, and he is playing with my tampons right now (this disturbs his father).

* The carpet needs replaced, the furniture has been peed on, and when you put the hot saucepan on the countertop, it WILL leave a black burned spot.

* My son WILL forget all of his gear for the soccer game (mom will grab it), he WILL leave his water bottle on the sideline after the game (mom will grab it), and he WILL always look for me in the crowd when he scores a goal.

* I will cry on the first day of school (at each drop off), we will lose multiple gloves (not the pair, only one from each set) throughout the school year, and we will have to do at least one last minute project.

* Motherhood is my purpose, my mom WAS right about everything, and I serve an awesome God.

All the Sexy Mammas!

I wouldn't consider myself a sex vixen but I am a far cry from a plain Jane. My style is one all my own...sprinkle a dash of Victoria's Secret, a smidge of Forever 21 and large heap of Department store clearance apparrel and you've pretty much got it. We are a pretty frugal crew so Louis Vuitton handbags and designer shoes need not apply. However, for my last birthday- I turned 30....again- I splurged on a pair of over-the-knee, super high heel, zip up to there, black boots....for my husband, of course!

Got that image in your head?????? Ok. Now remember I am a flip-flop, jean short (or full blown jeans- it's cold here), and faded white T with a cute scarf kind of girl. But I still want to rock my man's world every now and then. I want him to be blown away occassionally and remind him that he married a sexy know, make him drool and chase ya down the hall (after you tuck in all 4 kids, let the dog out, bring the cat in, lock the windows and doors, pop a breath mint and quietly try to slip on something cute w/o hubby knowing about it....and before he falls asleep watching ESPN).

You also need to have a little background information regarding my gracefullness or lack there of. God has gifted and blessed me with many many things....but there wasn't any room left when it was time to add gracefulness. So sadly I have had to master this world on my own two klutzy feet. I fall, trip, stumble and crash constantly which has lead to whiplash (horrible college hurdling debacle, stitches, broken bones and numerous bumps and bruises-it truly keeps my Chiropracter in business!). It used to frustrate my hubby...but he now merely accepts it as one of my most adorable idiosyncrasies.

Ok now that you have been briefed and have somewhat of a klutzy girl-next-door image in your head, you are now ready to bask in the rest of my hilarious-albeit unfortunate- series of events.

I like to surprise my hubby every now and then with new "outfits" from our local lingerie know keep an element of surprise (frankly, I'm sure he has no idea which ones are new and which ones are "been there, done that"). It keeps him on his to speak. After putting the 1st and 2nd born sons to bed (3rd and 4th born have already been in bed for awhile) I sneaked (is it "sneaked" or "snuk"?? I digress) to our room (hubby was doing our budget at this point- so he didn't really pay much attention to what I was doing). I put on the new cute hot pink bra and panty and the sexy up-to-there (think "Pretty Woman") boots and walked (more like strutted in my sexiness) thru the living room and down the stairs to surprise my hubby. (Basically since the boots were sooo expensive I thought that if I made it about him, he would care less what they cost.) In my super sexy way (remember, I am NOT graceful),  I put my hand on the wall and waited for my hubby to melt. BUT I lost my balance and so as not to fall in my basically naked state, I gripped the window. Dilemma averted? Heck NO! I RIPPED THE TRIM OFF THE WALL!!! Hubby just looked at me laughed and said, "that's not very sexy honey" as he took the trim out of my hand......but he still took the bait and the purchase was never questioned!

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Top 10 reasons I love having boys!

10. I have actually said, "Get off! You are too heavy to ride the dog!"
9. "It wasn't me" dribbles potty on my toilet seat daily (he also leaves dirty clothes on the floor and toothpaste sludge in the sink).
8. Living in a house of weenie-whackers, my crew thinks it's big news-hence must tell everyone-that mommy has a yanna banieni.
7. On road trips we don't need rest areas for our bathroom breaks.
6. Farts, wedgies, and mooning are all part of family humor.
5. Toys? Who needs toys? We play with sticks and rocks!
4. Personal hygiene is a foreign word. Therefore, I don't have to share the bathroom with anybody.
3. They could care less about what they wear-if they put clothes on at all.
2. We can go camping for 4 days and nobody asks to take a shower.
1. I get to be the Queen!

Murphy's Law

I think "Murphy" hangs out at my house. If something is going to break, we probably own it. If you see a crazy lady waving her arms and driving like a mad woman, it's probably me taking one of my kiddos to the ER. If your vehicle is running good, for heaven's sake don't let one of my brood touch it!

I am at the ER more often than some of the Dr's who work there. And I am certain that some of the staff are going to start remembering me. I know what road to take at what time of day to get there the fastest and with the fewest bumps (broken bones and bumps just don't mix). Murphy has contributed to concussions, stitches, 2nd degree burns, fractures, foreign object lodged places, and an array of germs and mishaps. HE has always liked to come around when my husband is out of town- my husband is never the one who has to pack up the crew and race to the ER- but "Murphy" plagued my home when my husband went TDY for 5 months for the SD Army National Guard.

Case in Point:

-2nd born son is playing on the playset with other brothers in the backyard when he passes out and falls 5-6 feet to the ground below- no it doesn't have the recommended cushioning below- I'm busy! Back off!! to the ER for a cat scan. He's already had a concussion, and he is the child that if he's going to get hurt, it is GOING to be his head. Of course mamma is freaking out. Fortunately, his melon turns out to be normal (that's a relative term).

-Oldest  falls out of the tree at a baseball game (he was supposed to be watching his brother). So we (that is code for "me") rush to the ER...arm- definetly broken! It's never good when the Dr comes into your room after the x-ray and says, "We found something very interesting...." No parent wants to hear those words coming out of any Dr's mouth. They discovered a cyst inside my kiddo's bone....we found out days later that it luckily -blessedly-wasn't cancer. I actually felt my hair turning gray in those long, long, loooong days of waiting for further information.

-I'm in the kitchen making lunch when the then 2 1/2 year old comes around the corner (very proudly I might add) announcing with obvious joy, "Mommy, I ate your medicine!" What??!! First, panic. Then, action. I ran around the corner to find the "child-proof" bottle of cold-medicine tablets open and all over the floor. Frantically call poison control.....directed to go straight to the.......wait for it......ER!!!! Luckily, the little fart was fine; just a little sleepy.

Ok. 3 down, 1 to go. What are the odds I will be in the ER with the baby before daddy gets to come home??????????

Fortunately, I don't end up needing to take the 4th little man to the ER. But 1 week after daddy gets home (btw- at this point daddy is now gone again; on his way to Guard drill....across the state), 2nd born son comes in with a gaping wound on his to the ER.....again.

I'm waiting for our local ER to send me my "frequent flyer" discount. Isn't that how it works?? Pay for 3, get the 4th one free??!!! We are repeat offenders so we will have our own privat room soon. Right?

That is only how "Murphy" has pin-pointed my boys. Our vehicles are another story. Two new transmissions in the mini-van alone within a 4 year time frame. Days befoe putting in that 3rd tranny, we are required to replace the engine in the car (we are a family of 6 and can't even all fit in that gosh darn car!!) This summer that said car was stolen....right out of our driveway. Awesome. (Guess who wasn't home to deal with that mess??? Yep. I had to take care of all of myself.....again.) We got it back but not before the fling-flangin' little thief ruined the tiresand stolesome stuff. (I had NO idea tires were so expensive.Tires. That purchase was no fun at all) And now the family vehicle-currently waiting for assessment and eventual bad news-is suffering from 2 (yep..2!) leaks; one somewhere in the front (I can change a newborn's diaper in the dark and half asleep but anything to do with the vehicle and you've got the wrong girl) and one from the gas tank.

My mantra is that I wronged "Murphy" in another life, and if it wasn't for bad luck, I wouldn't have any luck at all (I inherited that "luck" from my dad- btw thanks daddy-o!) But, you know what? It can always be worse. The kids were all fine (I, however, suffered a couple more gray hairs, years taken of my life, that a wrinkle!!??); we own the said vehicles and had the cash to fix 'em. So maybe my luck isn't sooo bad after all....we have our health- no wealth, a happy marriage, and no debt.

Share how "Murphy" hangs out at your house...we could all laugh about it together.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Is This It?

Wouldn't it be great to go back to high school...only for a couple days? No bills, no cleaning, no laundry, no tantrums, no "mom I forgot _____" (fill in the blank). I look back to high school days and remember the carefree fun that I got to experience. Ok- so there was acne (um, hello? Wasn't that supposed to STAY in adolescence??!?), tests, book reports, homework, girl-spats with friends...but what I remember most is having a blast and loving every minute of it. I knew I was going to change- no- conquer the world! There was no doubt about it.

Somewhere along my path something changed. Now, I sometimes sit on my couch in my sweatpants (they're coming back in style right?) and washed-enough-to-be-comfy t-shirt and this really it? Is this the mountain I thought I was going to climb? Have I truly conquered anything? Would the world truly end if I didn't pick up the toys that are somehow reproducing when I turn my back? Will my brood of men be able to tell that I hung up the wet, stinky towels, or washed their smelley clothes--seriously, how come boys smell so bad!!??-or organized the activity calendar so we are at the right place at the right time? Occasionally I consider making our "To Do" list into a "Ta Da" list- you know, one itemizing everything that mamma bear has done, accomplished, taken care of, wiped and/or changed and fixed throughout the day.

Probably not. But about the time I start to grab for my stash of secret chocolate (we all have one so stop judging me!) my inner kick-butt mamma says- heck ya!! I can do the laundry, make the supper-heck! plan a week of suppers, clean up the house, help with the homework, entertain the toddler, get the kids to do their chores-and make them think it was their idea all before daddy gets home from work! How's that for climbing a mountain!?

I am the CEO of the best business out there! Sure I may not truly get to set my own hours- but I always wake up to sweet stinky-breathed kisses and the sleep-filled eyes of my smiling boys who tell me I look beautiful and that they love me "so so much!" I would rather work for that boss any day. So, I may not get to pee alone -ok, I would actually like to do that every now and then...30 seconds, that's all I'm asking for!-and my toddler and preschooler always have to look at me while I'm showering and tell me that my boobs and be-bo (that's slang for belly button if you aren't already a Sandra Boynton reader) are broken, the 7 year old recommends every workout video known to man, telling me "you need that, mommy" and my 11 year old is on the verge of growing up and maybe not needing me as much as I need him. Even with all that....I think I not only met my goals I set as a wide-eyed, unknowing teen, I waved bye to them as I sailed right past!

No one can be mommy to my 4 little guys as good as I can. I know their hurts, their fears, their joys, their goals....their smells! But I wouldn't want anyone else to share in these moments (ok, daddy can have some too!) I get to spend my days as the one they want to talk to- good or bad.....and that's good enough for me.

So high school can keep it's cat-fights, Friday night football games, and flirty days. These adult days are full of a lot less judgement, no homework, and lots of peanut butter smiles that scream thank-you!

Monday, September 13, 2010

Small Daily Accomplishments

Ok...I finally did it!! Peer pressure got the best of me...even at 30 (ish). Facebook account and blogging today, tomorrow....well, let's just get through today. With four little dudes that keep me on my toes and a hardworking hubby, sometimes making it through today (let alone making it to tomorrow) seems somewhat laughable! Soccer, cross country, pick-ups, drop-offs, lunch, snacks, supper, laundry, clean the toilet- clean the toilet again, toys EVERYWHERE! Plus every now and then I'd like to look somewhat sexy and vibrant when my husband comes home in the add makeup, hair and cute outfit  to that crazy list.

Don't get me wrong; I am sooo blessed. I am finally at home with my crew and LOVE it....honestly, sometimes I hate it- I mean, I am the only girl in a house of 5 dudes...I am the ONLY one who hits my toilet target every time!! And somedays if I find one more stinky sock hanging out in the middle of the floor- because noone knows how it got there in the first place- I might tear somebody's hair out...not mine because it costs too much to color it- I can't rip it out!!

Back to my technological accomplishment. Let me be honest- I am a hypocrite! Totally thought that this "blogging" thing was a - pardon me for saying- waste of time. However, I have been proven wrong- for the first time, I might add. Instead of folding yet another load of laundry for my unappreciative rulers- I am talking to PEOPLE. Real adult people...the female kind!! It is my small daily victory...communication with another human that can hit a toilet target!