It dawned on me recently that my life has changed. Yes, it's still crazy. My three kids run circles around me, simultaneously requesting my acknowledgment and the dog patiently waits his turn...oh and then there's the cat who meows like a girl. Anyway, with all of this, it's officially transitioned to the "next" phase.
My first baby is reading, really well. My second baby can do almost everything by herself. I'm potty training my last baby, and I don't have anymore "babies" left. This is a little sad, but at the same time it is very liberating. I can go to the store A LOT easier than I used too. I can tell my kids to "suck it up" if they don't like it ('cause babies don't like it when you tell them that!) I can stand back and watch more, because they don't need me to hold their hand.
I do miss it, a little. I love snuggling my nephew and stealing all the baby kisses I can. But I am to a point now that feels right. It's time to move forward. Now the hard part is figuring out what to do next.
No More
I opened up my eyes today
and saw my life in a brand new way.
My little babes, so sweet to touch,
are growing up without a fuss.
Their hands, once tiny as a mouse
help pull them up on their play house.
Finger sized feet, so soft and sweet,
now wear size nine and sometimes stink.
I squeeze and kiss them more and more,
in case there's a day they yell "no more"
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Deemed Impossible
We had a busy day today. Not that I intended it to be that way when I woke up, it just turned out that way. Those tend to be the best days for me.
My sister-in-law called this morning to invite me on a mall date. Definition: take the kids to play so that we can get out of the house. I always look forward to hanging out with her, but am amazed at how little we actually get go speak to each other. I am usually chasing a child around, so we just let the kids play and enjoy being in the same vicinity.
The kids are finally old enough, and capable enough for me to be less hands on. It is nice to watch them play instead of assisting the entire time, and I'm sure they enjoy having some space. They do the usual climb on everything they can routine, but Little Brother pushes the envelope because he is confident. I was busy loving on my baby nephew when my sister-in-law said "Little brother is climbing on the wall...oh he is climbing over the wall!"
I looked up just in time to see him lower himself over the play wall. This was obviously something you are not supposed to do, as about six kids jumped up on the seat to look at the escapee on the other side. I handed my nephew off and headed out the exit to retrieve my child before he decided to scale the wall to the ice skating rink. I hoped as I went around the circle that Little Brother didn't go in the opposite direction, and watched the perimeter with no success as he is shorter than the wall. But suddenly there was movement! Not my child, but the gaggle of children standing in the bench, all started moving in unison as they followed their new leader around the wall. Unfortunately it was in the opposite direction from were I was heading. I did a 360 to get my little one and was thankful that Aunt Shaw Shaw was there to catch him. I informed him of the standard procedures and encouraged him to play again.
I don't really get mad about this kind of stuff. I see it as his personality type and try to set boundaries that we both can accept. But I think he knows it's his job to push those boundaries just as far as he can.
Deemed Impossible
It's hard to find the words to describe you young scribe.
The things that you do give others a fright.
You climb what's deemed impossible for someone your size,
And giving up is unheard of, it just wouldn't be right.
I'm amazed at your ability, your strength and your might.
When Big Brother comes picking, you'll put up a fight.
You're not afraid of the things most other kids are.
Keeping trying my sweet, let's see how high you set that bar.
My sister-in-law called this morning to invite me on a mall date. Definition: take the kids to play so that we can get out of the house. I always look forward to hanging out with her, but am amazed at how little we actually get go speak to each other. I am usually chasing a child around, so we just let the kids play and enjoy being in the same vicinity.
The kids are finally old enough, and capable enough for me to be less hands on. It is nice to watch them play instead of assisting the entire time, and I'm sure they enjoy having some space. They do the usual climb on everything they can routine, but Little Brother pushes the envelope because he is confident. I was busy loving on my baby nephew when my sister-in-law said "Little brother is climbing on the wall...oh he is climbing over the wall!"
I looked up just in time to see him lower himself over the play wall. This was obviously something you are not supposed to do, as about six kids jumped up on the seat to look at the escapee on the other side. I handed my nephew off and headed out the exit to retrieve my child before he decided to scale the wall to the ice skating rink. I hoped as I went around the circle that Little Brother didn't go in the opposite direction, and watched the perimeter with no success as he is shorter than the wall. But suddenly there was movement! Not my child, but the gaggle of children standing in the bench, all started moving in unison as they followed their new leader around the wall. Unfortunately it was in the opposite direction from were I was heading. I did a 360 to get my little one and was thankful that Aunt Shaw Shaw was there to catch him. I informed him of the standard procedures and encouraged him to play again.
I don't really get mad about this kind of stuff. I see it as his personality type and try to set boundaries that we both can accept. But I think he knows it's his job to push those boundaries just as far as he can.
Deemed Impossible
It's hard to find the words to describe you young scribe.
The things that you do give others a fright.
You climb what's deemed impossible for someone your size,
And giving up is unheard of, it just wouldn't be right.
I'm amazed at your ability, your strength and your might.
When Big Brother comes picking, you'll put up a fight.
You're not afraid of the things most other kids are.
Keeping trying my sweet, let's see how high you set that bar.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Adventures
If you are looking for a new entertainment device for kids, I have found it!! MUD. I know we have tapped it's resources for all things beautiful, from the stucco on your walls to the cellulite on your thighs (not mine, hee hee). But few of us realize the power this slippery substance has over our children.
I spent some time the other day getting the sprinkler system set up again. I couldn't leave it the way it was last year, nooooo, I had to complicate it by changing things. Anyway, I had it set to water on "convenient" days like Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. As I was making my morning cup of tea I realized, from the half circle dark spot on the fence, and the wet dog, that the sprinklers were going, and it wasn't Wednesday! By the way, the dog was wet because he thinks the sprinklers are out to get him, so he bites the water to make it stop.
OK, watering the yard really isn't a big deal. But don't forget, this is my house we are talking about. The "yard" in the back is half dirt. I won't go into my theories as to why it is dirt, it just is. I groaned with disappointment from the sight of the wet muddy dog because I knew what was ahead for the rest of the day. It didn't take long before sweet Big Sister looked out and screamed "A puddle! Look Little Brother a Puddle!" From this point forward I knew it was act now or forever clean their feet. "Absolutely not, you are not going outside to play in the puddle. Now, here's your milk, let's go watch TV." OK, so I am foregoing physical activities for TV time, but I still hadn't had my cup of tea yet.
Sometime later, I realized that the house was way too quite. I strolled into the kitchen to find the window wide open. The cat was perched on the sill, Big Sister was hanging half way out and Little Brother was outside swinging Indiana Jones style from our tree rope. As he swung from the rope he dragged half of his body across the ground and therefore through the brown slick beneath it. Big Sister laughed and ran out there, only to excite the dog who began running circles around them. Circles that just so happened to be in the "mud zone." Soon there after Big Brother, who was home sick, also got in on the gig and helped the other two make mud soup, pie, patties, and art.
This was the moment I decided to lock the doors (and the window!)
I know....that's awful, but tell me that when you have to clean my house and all the mud that four creatures will track in. I gave them their space to have fun, only intervened when it was necessary, and went about our day as normal (except my children were only allowed to come inside after being sprayed off with the water hose.)
Adventures
I have to stop for a minute
to watch my sweet kids.
They're laughing and smiling
showing off what they did.
The adventures they have
are splendid and grand.
He just flew on his rope
a true Indiana Jones fan.
And now there's a monster,
of the hairy scary kind.
They know just where to hide
to be impossible to find.
I smile while I watch them.
A scene that's sure to endear.
But wait, I'll be the monster.
Now screaming is all that I hear.
I spent some time the other day getting the sprinkler system set up again. I couldn't leave it the way it was last year, nooooo, I had to complicate it by changing things. Anyway, I had it set to water on "convenient" days like Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. As I was making my morning cup of tea I realized, from the half circle dark spot on the fence, and the wet dog, that the sprinklers were going, and it wasn't Wednesday! By the way, the dog was wet because he thinks the sprinklers are out to get him, so he bites the water to make it stop.
OK, watering the yard really isn't a big deal. But don't forget, this is my house we are talking about. The "yard" in the back is half dirt. I won't go into my theories as to why it is dirt, it just is. I groaned with disappointment from the sight of the wet muddy dog because I knew what was ahead for the rest of the day. It didn't take long before sweet Big Sister looked out and screamed "A puddle! Look Little Brother a Puddle!" From this point forward I knew it was act now or forever clean their feet. "Absolutely not, you are not going outside to play in the puddle. Now, here's your milk, let's go watch TV." OK, so I am foregoing physical activities for TV time, but I still hadn't had my cup of tea yet.
Sometime later, I realized that the house was way too quite. I strolled into the kitchen to find the window wide open. The cat was perched on the sill, Big Sister was hanging half way out and Little Brother was outside swinging Indiana Jones style from our tree rope. As he swung from the rope he dragged half of his body across the ground and therefore through the brown slick beneath it. Big Sister laughed and ran out there, only to excite the dog who began running circles around them. Circles that just so happened to be in the "mud zone." Soon there after Big Brother, who was home sick, also got in on the gig and helped the other two make mud soup, pie, patties, and art.
This was the moment I decided to lock the doors (and the window!)
I know....that's awful, but tell me that when you have to clean my house and all the mud that four creatures will track in. I gave them their space to have fun, only intervened when it was necessary, and went about our day as normal (except my children were only allowed to come inside after being sprayed off with the water hose.)
Adventures
I have to stop for a minute
to watch my sweet kids.
They're laughing and smiling
showing off what they did.
The adventures they have
are splendid and grand.
He just flew on his rope
a true Indiana Jones fan.
And now there's a monster,
of the hairy scary kind.
They know just where to hide
to be impossible to find.
I smile while I watch them.
A scene that's sure to endear.
But wait, I'll be the monster.
Now screaming is all that I hear.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Your Greatest Wish
Another day has ended, well almost. I still have to do the dishes, sweep the floor, put away the clean clothes, feed the animals, and pay a couple of bills and there is something else that I keep forgetting...anyway.
The day always seems to have passed so quickly when you are looking back, but they don't seem to move when you are in them. Well let me put that differently, I am always moving in them, they just don't seem to keep up with me. Let me tally what I have accomplished today:
I think sometimes the only thing I have left to give is boogers!
Your Greatest Wish
"Hey Mom, can you help me?"
"Yes, in a minute my sweet."
"Can you help?"
"I said, 'just a minute' please!"
"Hey Mom, Mom, where did you go?"
"I'm taking the trash out"
"But I need you."
"My goodness I know!"
"Mom, can you zip this?"
"My hands are full right now"
"But Mom, I need you."
"While I'm carring trash, how?"
I turn and I look,
your smile is so sweet.
You've followed me around
and stayed at my feet.
Your greatest wish,
what you desire from me
is a zip, and a kiss
as you run off in glee.
The day always seems to have passed so quickly when you are looking back, but they don't seem to move when you are in them. Well let me put that differently, I am always moving in them, they just don't seem to keep up with me. Let me tally what I have accomplished today:
- breakfast
- breakfast dishes
- fed animals
- cleaned the table and chairs
- three loads of laundry, including folding
- lunch for the crew (of course)
- clean under couches
- declutter cabinet
- clean cobwebs
- dust base boards, and cabinet in two rooms
- clean windows and mirror
- met with landscaper
- tidy kids room (supervised)
- tidy the house (all day event)
- gave snacks
- dressed the kids
- Big Brother's sudden allergic reaction
- drug store
- library books returned
- potty training (more success!)
- organized coupon book
- sorted through junk mail pile
- fixed dinner
- snuggled with kids and read books
I did sit down for about 30 minutes while the kids watched "Batman" to read a parenting magazine, and began to feel guilty because it felt like I should have been doing something else. I chased kids for fun (and not), did lots of chores, and still felt like I should have been giving more. WHERE DOES THAT COME FROM!!!???
I think sometimes the only thing I have left to give is boogers!
Your Greatest Wish
"Hey Mom, can you help me?"
"Yes, in a minute my sweet."
"Can you help?"
"I said, 'just a minute' please!"
"Hey Mom, Mom, where did you go?"
"I'm taking the trash out"
"But I need you."
"My goodness I know!"
"Mom, can you zip this?"
"My hands are full right now"
"But Mom, I need you."
"While I'm carring trash, how?"
I turn and I look,
your smile is so sweet.
You've followed me around
and stayed at my feet.
Your greatest wish,
what you desire from me
is a zip, and a kiss
as you run off in glee.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
The Last Row Observer
"I'M BACK"...that is what I have decided. I gave myself plenty of time to postpone my commitments, and this is when I decided to stop postponing them. I can't explain how it happens, when I am in the middle of "I don't want to do it" mode, I can easily stick to it. Stubborn is my secrete identity. But somewhere, as if observing from the last row, I know that "this too shall pass", and it has.
I think, maybe I get tired of not liking myself. 'Cause the reality is, when I am committing "personal treason," I don't like myself. I don't want to be seen as weak or insane, and yes Penny, the insanity had set in :o}. But when I start allowing myself to make excuses, it is hard to stop. That's when any obstacle can be seen as my opportunity, in those moments, to stop trying. This can apply to all aspects of my life. Those cupcakes, why not eat another. I'm making a trip to my hometown, why not eat three donuts, and save the donut holes for later. Oh, and the exercise...HA, I'm not even going to try and fake it, I am just not doing it.
I watch myself do these things, and I don't like it. I don't like seeing the weight I lost come right back, because "I can lose it again later." I don't like feeling like I have to take a nap everyday because I stopped exercising. I don't like watching TV for two or three hours at night and not getting the dishes done before I go to bed. I simply don't like committing treason.
So, I have stopped.
The Last Row Observer
What is going on?
Oh, it's painful to watch.
I'll cover my eyes
'til the misery stops.
Are you kidding me!
You're doing that again.
That illogical reasoning
has to come to an end.
Oh, sigh of relief.
This shouldn't hurt any longer.
I won't sit here and watch
you make excuses much longer.
Shut up.
Stop talking.
Get up.
Start walking.
It starts with just one,
one foot then the other.
Stop making excuses,
they will pull you asunder.
I think, maybe I get tired of not liking myself. 'Cause the reality is, when I am committing "personal treason," I don't like myself. I don't want to be seen as weak or insane, and yes Penny, the insanity had set in :o}. But when I start allowing myself to make excuses, it is hard to stop. That's when any obstacle can be seen as my opportunity, in those moments, to stop trying. This can apply to all aspects of my life. Those cupcakes, why not eat another. I'm making a trip to my hometown, why not eat three donuts, and save the donut holes for later. Oh, and the exercise...HA, I'm not even going to try and fake it, I am just not doing it.
I watch myself do these things, and I don't like it. I don't like seeing the weight I lost come right back, because "I can lose it again later." I don't like feeling like I have to take a nap everyday because I stopped exercising. I don't like watching TV for two or three hours at night and not getting the dishes done before I go to bed. I simply don't like committing treason.
So, I have stopped.
The Last Row Observer
What is going on?
Oh, it's painful to watch.
I'll cover my eyes
'til the misery stops.
Are you kidding me!
You're doing that again.
That illogical reasoning
has to come to an end.
Oh, sigh of relief.
This shouldn't hurt any longer.
I won't sit here and watch
you make excuses much longer.
Shut up.
Stop talking.
Get up.
Start walking.
It starts with just one,
one foot then the other.
Stop making excuses,
they will pull you asunder.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Treason
Why is it so easy to break commitments to yourself? I tend to be a yes girl, a people pleaser, not a brown noser, just a sure-why-not kinda woman. Because of that I end up committing myself to others very frequently. I am good at keeping those commitments once committed...but that is only as long as that commitment is to someone other than me.
I make excuses for not following through for myself almost from the very moment the thought oozes it's way from the crevasses of my grey matter. I will bail on myself before the thought has time to become a thought. Why???
Each day presents itself, and before I really even start, I have already decided I'm not going to stick to the commitment I have made. Why??? It really does frustrate me. But, it's me...no one else forces me to eat another half a biscuit (because there is still honey butter in the bowl and that can't be wasted). The kids didn't take a nap today, so I'll exercises tonight (not really, by brain has already hit that "not gonna happen" button). I'll go to bed early so I can get up earlier (until I hit the snooze button, and go back to sleep). I'll fold those clothes now, but I'll put them away when all of the laundry is done (a week later). I'll only watch one of my shows and then I do the dishes (tomorrow morning, after breakfast...well maybe after lunch) I'll shave after I exercise (what exercise). I'll make an appointment for the optometrist (ahhh, that tear in my contact isn't that bad). I think that I put more energy into finding reasons to not do things than actually doing them would be.
I have heard and read tons of things about valuing yourself enough to take time out, blah blah blah. I am sure I have preached it to some of you. It is still a battle for me. I hop on the waggon and jump right off again and then figure out a great reason not to hop back on. I am dangling like Indiana Jones from the back of my commitment waggon. It's bumpy and dirty and hurts.
Treason
I want to quit.
I want to bail.
I won't even try,
it's easier to fail.
OK, maybe not.
I might really try.
I'll finish this chore
before the day passes by.
Oh what luck,
an obstacle there.
It gives me a reason
to not really care.
Oh wait, but I do!
I think there's a reason
to stop this nonsensical
personal treason.
I make excuses for not following through for myself almost from the very moment the thought oozes it's way from the crevasses of my grey matter. I will bail on myself before the thought has time to become a thought. Why???
Each day presents itself, and before I really even start, I have already decided I'm not going to stick to the commitment I have made. Why??? It really does frustrate me. But, it's me...no one else forces me to eat another half a biscuit (because there is still honey butter in the bowl and that can't be wasted). The kids didn't take a nap today, so I'll exercises tonight (not really, by brain has already hit that "not gonna happen" button). I'll go to bed early so I can get up earlier (until I hit the snooze button, and go back to sleep). I'll fold those clothes now, but I'll put them away when all of the laundry is done (a week later). I'll only watch one of my shows and then I do the dishes (tomorrow morning, after breakfast...well maybe after lunch) I'll shave after I exercise (what exercise). I'll make an appointment for the optometrist (ahhh, that tear in my contact isn't that bad). I think that I put more energy into finding reasons to not do things than actually doing them would be.
I have heard and read tons of things about valuing yourself enough to take time out, blah blah blah. I am sure I have preached it to some of you. It is still a battle for me. I hop on the waggon and jump right off again and then figure out a great reason not to hop back on. I am dangling like Indiana Jones from the back of my commitment waggon. It's bumpy and dirty and hurts.
Treason
I want to quit.
I want to bail.
I won't even try,
it's easier to fail.
OK, maybe not.
I might really try.
I'll finish this chore
before the day passes by.
Oh what luck,
an obstacle there.
It gives me a reason
to not really care.
Oh wait, but I do!
I think there's a reason
to stop this nonsensical
personal treason.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Places Please
My husband came home Wednesday morning and left Thursday night. Having so little time together doesn't leave much room for disagreements. We are pretty used to the way this works, and so far it works for us. People always ask, "How do you do it?" Well, I hang on tight. I mean that literally, too. I have to manage things around here pretty closely or I will go nuts. Now, I don't mean that I sit on top of everything going on. The kids get a lot of space to be kids, even if their screaming bloody murder in the back yard tortures the neighbors. Things have there place, I keep them in their place, and things move pretty smoothly.
While my husband was home I took advantage of nap time to go shopping. I did the usual, grab everything you need from the grocery store so you don't have to take the kids, run and stopped to finish the Valentine's Day Party shopping. On my way home I phoned Husband to let him know that I would be picking Big Brother up from school. I asked how their nap had been and he said that he and Big Sister were the only ones up. Great! Little Brother needed the extra nap time. So, I grabbed my prescription from the drug store, grabbed me a drink from Sonic, and headed to the school.
I arrived about 30 minutes early. I could sit there and play on my phone, but honestly, I can't stand doing that when I know there are other things I can take care of...like taking in groceries. I pulled into the drive and began unloading the bags. Like all mom's I know, I grab as much as my arms can bear before waddling up the walk to get to the front door. When I rounded the corner, to my dismay, Little Brothers window was open, the screen torn off and his candy cane "sword" was laying in the mud. I dropped everything and began banging on the front door.
This took a lifetime. I don't know how many times I banged on the door, a minimum of four, and I repeatedly rang the door bell. Finally, the door was opened and I blurted out "Did you realize Little Brothers window is open and the screen is off???" "WHAT!!" was all that came from my husbands mouth as he darted through the door to his room. I turned around and he was standing behind me, what the, how'd he do that???
I am always surprised at the reactions we all have at times. My husband was definitely more frantic than I (this time.) I checked his bed and the first place I headed was for my room. That is the off limits place for the kids, so I thought my chances were better starting there. My mind registered his voice, and I called to Husband that he was inside, and I rounded the corner to find him in my bathroom. It took half a second to process what he was up to. Apparently he had finally figured out how to open the "child proof" locks on my cabinet and found my supply of finger nail polish. I guess he decided that hot pink was his color because half of both feet were painted. I headed back to the front door to ensure that my husband heard that he was safe.
I asked him how he managed to get outside so quickly. "I dove through" is all he said. Through the window, the halfway hanging off screen, and through the mud, and not a bit of evidence on him. Wow...that's like Super Hero stuff to me. As I stood there calming down, Little Brother came down the hallway with polish bag in hand. He sweetly walked up to Daddy and said, "Polish, Daddy." OK, everything is sweet when a tragedy has been avoided.
It dawned on me that the alarm was beeping. This happens every day, I turn it off and move on. Today though, Dad had not turned it off. I, probably not as nicely as I should have, asked why on earth he hadn't turned the thing off, and that if he had, he might have heard the door chime go off when Little Brother had breached the security perimeter. "Uh, I turned it off." "What........you turned it off...."
This is the part where I reiterate, I like to have everything in its place, it may not look like its organized at all times, but places everybody please! This applies to my security system. I do keep a door chime on so when any of my windows or doors are opened, I can run through the house to check on everyone. It obviously doesn't work properly if it is turned off. To my husbands credit, he gets it. He is the most security minded of the two of us. I just have a little more experience with what the kids might really do.
I love you Honey.
Places Please
Can I use your toolbox dear?
Only if you get one thing clear.
I like my things where they belong,
not left behind when your long gone.
I like to put things in their place
not just where there's an empty space.
So if you still want to use my things
just remember what my wrath can bring.
:o)
While my husband was home I took advantage of nap time to go shopping. I did the usual, grab everything you need from the grocery store so you don't have to take the kids, run and stopped to finish the Valentine's Day Party shopping. On my way home I phoned Husband to let him know that I would be picking Big Brother up from school. I asked how their nap had been and he said that he and Big Sister were the only ones up. Great! Little Brother needed the extra nap time. So, I grabbed my prescription from the drug store, grabbed me a drink from Sonic, and headed to the school.
I arrived about 30 minutes early. I could sit there and play on my phone, but honestly, I can't stand doing that when I know there are other things I can take care of...like taking in groceries. I pulled into the drive and began unloading the bags. Like all mom's I know, I grab as much as my arms can bear before waddling up the walk to get to the front door. When I rounded the corner, to my dismay, Little Brothers window was open, the screen torn off and his candy cane "sword" was laying in the mud. I dropped everything and began banging on the front door.
This took a lifetime. I don't know how many times I banged on the door, a minimum of four, and I repeatedly rang the door bell. Finally, the door was opened and I blurted out "Did you realize Little Brothers window is open and the screen is off???" "WHAT!!" was all that came from my husbands mouth as he darted through the door to his room. I turned around and he was standing behind me, what the, how'd he do that???
I am always surprised at the reactions we all have at times. My husband was definitely more frantic than I (this time.) I checked his bed and the first place I headed was for my room. That is the off limits place for the kids, so I thought my chances were better starting there. My mind registered his voice, and I called to Husband that he was inside, and I rounded the corner to find him in my bathroom. It took half a second to process what he was up to. Apparently he had finally figured out how to open the "child proof" locks on my cabinet and found my supply of finger nail polish. I guess he decided that hot pink was his color because half of both feet were painted. I headed back to the front door to ensure that my husband heard that he was safe.
I asked him how he managed to get outside so quickly. "I dove through" is all he said. Through the window, the halfway hanging off screen, and through the mud, and not a bit of evidence on him. Wow...that's like Super Hero stuff to me. As I stood there calming down, Little Brother came down the hallway with polish bag in hand. He sweetly walked up to Daddy and said, "Polish, Daddy." OK, everything is sweet when a tragedy has been avoided.
It dawned on me that the alarm was beeping. This happens every day, I turn it off and move on. Today though, Dad had not turned it off. I, probably not as nicely as I should have, asked why on earth he hadn't turned the thing off, and that if he had, he might have heard the door chime go off when Little Brother had breached the security perimeter. "Uh, I turned it off." "What........you turned it off...."
This is the part where I reiterate, I like to have everything in its place, it may not look like its organized at all times, but places everybody please! This applies to my security system. I do keep a door chime on so when any of my windows or doors are opened, I can run through the house to check on everyone. It obviously doesn't work properly if it is turned off. To my husbands credit, he gets it. He is the most security minded of the two of us. I just have a little more experience with what the kids might really do.
I love you Honey.
Places Please
Can I use your toolbox dear?
Only if you get one thing clear.
I like my things where they belong,
not left behind when your long gone.
I like to put things in their place
not just where there's an empty space.
So if you still want to use my things
just remember what my wrath can bring.
:o)
Monday, February 1, 2010
A Cup of Tea
I like those moments that make you appreciate things more. Cause you to let down your guard and just be present in the moment. I had just finished reading a chapter from “The Lightning Thief” and was busy tucking Big Brother and Sister into bed. I was crawling out of my night time hugs when a little hand grabbed my shoulder and said “here Momma, drink time.”
Little Brother rarely sits still while I am reading “chapter” books. While I read to his brother and sister, he had busied himself making tea for us. He handed me a tiny pink cup, stirred it with a measuring spoon, and just before I took a big imaginary drink, he said, “Hot, Momma, hot.” So I blew on my tiny cup of tea before guzzling it down to his delight.
About this time Big Sister chimed in with an “I don’t want to go to bed” chant. I explained, then I pleaded, and finally threatened her about this ridiculous ritual. I really wasn’t in the mood to get mad about it. What I find astounding is their ability to step into a completely serene moment and shatter it with complaints, whining or neediness. I understand that the world right now is very small to them, because it is all about them, but wow they are good at tending to their ego.
In an attempt to avoid following through with my threat, I took my cup of tea and threw it in Big Sister’s face with “tshhhhhh” added for effect. Little Brother literally fell down laughing. I then threw my never ending supply at the cat, “tshhhhhh.” Now Big Brother, “tshhhhhh,” Little Brother, “tshhhhhh,” and to top it off, a big fat cup of tea right in my face. “TSHHHH.” Mine was big enough to bowl me over and sent Little Brother to the floor rolling in laughter. What a way to end the night. We put the tea cups away, and hugged and kissed all over again. Little Brother bid his siblings “Good night” and I squeezed him and thanked him for being so great as I tucked him in to bed for the night.
Laughter
I don’t think that there is anything
in this earthly place we live
that can brighten up a day
like the laughter of a kid.
You don’t really have to hear it
or see from whom it was relayed.
You simply feel it inside you
like the warmth of a sunny day.
Little Brother rarely sits still while I am reading “chapter” books. While I read to his brother and sister, he had busied himself making tea for us. He handed me a tiny pink cup, stirred it with a measuring spoon, and just before I took a big imaginary drink, he said, “Hot, Momma, hot.” So I blew on my tiny cup of tea before guzzling it down to his delight.
About this time Big Sister chimed in with an “I don’t want to go to bed” chant. I explained, then I pleaded, and finally threatened her about this ridiculous ritual. I really wasn’t in the mood to get mad about it. What I find astounding is their ability to step into a completely serene moment and shatter it with complaints, whining or neediness. I understand that the world right now is very small to them, because it is all about them, but wow they are good at tending to their ego.
In an attempt to avoid following through with my threat, I took my cup of tea and threw it in Big Sister’s face with “tshhhhhh” added for effect. Little Brother literally fell down laughing. I then threw my never ending supply at the cat, “tshhhhhh.” Now Big Brother, “tshhhhhh,” Little Brother, “tshhhhhh,” and to top it off, a big fat cup of tea right in my face. “TSHHHH.” Mine was big enough to bowl me over and sent Little Brother to the floor rolling in laughter. What a way to end the night. We put the tea cups away, and hugged and kissed all over again. Little Brother bid his siblings “Good night” and I squeezed him and thanked him for being so great as I tucked him in to bed for the night.
Laughter
I don’t think that there is anything
in this earthly place we live
that can brighten up a day
like the laughter of a kid.
You don’t really have to hear it
or see from whom it was relayed.
You simply feel it inside you
like the warmth of a sunny day.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Perspective
I woke up this morning in a fine mood. Made three cups of chocolate milk and sat down to watch Sunday Morning on CBS and have a cup of tea. Big Brother came in and cuddled up next to me. After about 10 minutes he said, "I'm hungry Mom, can you go fix some breakfast." I told him that I was having my tea and he could go get himself a breakfast bar. "But I don't want a breakfast bar," he whined, “I’ve been here for hours.” I told him, “you can hop your little butt up and get the chocolate milk that is in the fridge and that should tide you over until I am ready to get up. Or…you can go back to bed until you change your attitude.”
Without delving much deeper, his attitude didn’t change and I joined him. I was amazed how hard it was to get out of my “fed up” attitude. I was short tempered, grumpy, and anti social. I had to force myself to go play with the kids in their room, only to realize they hadn’t had their breathing treatment. That started another round of whining. All I could do was pray for nap time.
My husband called me sometime after nap and I explained that “I am digging deep into the pit of my soul right now to survive!” I don’t like to complain. I truly feel there could be worse things than whatever I am experiencing right now. Once I actually said those words, it was like I flipped a switch. Really, was it THAT bad…no. That was all it took.
Verbalizing my feelings helped to put them into perspective. My day suddenly felt normal. I cleaned up the house and had the In Laws over for dinner (they brought the food, I cooked desert.) I enjoyed some company, and let the kids stay up a little late for a school night.
Perspective
This mood has me in a death grip
It’s cold, it’s bleak, it’s grey.
I’m frustrated by the weight of it
I feel smothered by decay.
I try to move on through this shit
But a shadow sits in my way.
As if a Bad Mood Goblin
has moved on in to stay.
Within my heart I rant and rave
and felt no one could share my pain.
But the moment that I gained perspective,
was the moment when I became reflective.
What a life I get to lead,
My heart still beats, and yes I bleed.
There is too much love that surrounds me here,
To waist my day holding onto tears.
Without delving much deeper, his attitude didn’t change and I joined him. I was amazed how hard it was to get out of my “fed up” attitude. I was short tempered, grumpy, and anti social. I had to force myself to go play with the kids in their room, only to realize they hadn’t had their breathing treatment. That started another round of whining. All I could do was pray for nap time.
My husband called me sometime after nap and I explained that “I am digging deep into the pit of my soul right now to survive!” I don’t like to complain. I truly feel there could be worse things than whatever I am experiencing right now. Once I actually said those words, it was like I flipped a switch. Really, was it THAT bad…no. That was all it took.
Verbalizing my feelings helped to put them into perspective. My day suddenly felt normal. I cleaned up the house and had the In Laws over for dinner (they brought the food, I cooked desert.) I enjoyed some company, and let the kids stay up a little late for a school night.
Perspective
This mood has me in a death grip
It’s cold, it’s bleak, it’s grey.
I’m frustrated by the weight of it
I feel smothered by decay.
I try to move on through this shit
But a shadow sits in my way.
As if a Bad Mood Goblin
has moved on in to stay.
Within my heart I rant and rave
and felt no one could share my pain.
But the moment that I gained perspective,
was the moment when I became reflective.
What a life I get to lead,
My heart still beats, and yes I bleed.
There is too much love that surrounds me here,
To waist my day holding onto tears.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Not so Joyful
Turtle is our anti social cat. She has been that way since we brought her home from the pound. She doesn't like anyone except my husband, and she only tolerates me because she can count on me to feed her. About a month ago she disappeared. At first I wasn't too worried, and really I didn't care much. But as the third day went by, I was a little concerned that I hadn't seen her on my kitchen window sill asking to be fed. The next day as I was putting some groceries in the garage I heard a muffled "meow." I looked around the garage trying to figure out where she was when it dawned on me. The attic. That cat follows you up the attic stairs if you aren't paying attention, and my husband had been up there 4 days ago and I am sure he wasn't paying attention to the ladder climbing cat. I pulled down the door and ladder and she popped her little head out and meowed at me like she was cussing. I had to help her down, because she doesn’t know how to climb down the ladder, and went inside to get her food and water.
I was in the process of getting the kids ready to take Big Brother to school and opened the garage door so that I could warm up the van. Well, Turtle ran for her life. It's not like I locked her in the attic on purpose, but that didn't really matter to her. This time I was worried as the weather was expected to get into the teens for the next few nights, but I thought she would come back in the morning. She didn't. Two weeks went by without a single sighting. I didn't contact the pound as she has a chip and they would have contacted me, I really just assumed she had curled up somewhere and froze.
The kids and I went to Amarillo. While we were there, my husband was out in the neighborhood with our dog when this lady asked if he knew who owned the cat in her photo. It was Turtle. She had taken Turtle in when the weather got cold, and was now looking for the owner's because Turtle "attacks" her sick cat. Knowing Turtle, she probably just hisses at the thing, but whatever. Alex left the cat retrieval up to me as he was leaving for work and I was due home in a couple of days. When I got home "Joyful" (that's what I'll call our neighbor) wasted no time in coming to find me. As a matter of fact, she was at my neighbor’s house talking to her when she saw me pull into the garage. She dutifully knocked on the garage door until I opened it again.
This was my first time to meet Joyful, and she seemed ok, but there was something my gut felt the moment I saw her and I just couldn't put my finger on it. I explained the cat in the attic incident and the disappearance, she explained taking her in and her sick cat, and so on. She wanted to know if we "sincerely" wanted to keep her or if we were going to find her a new home. Well, I don't really care either way, but I didn't say that. I explained that I would like to see if she would come home again, and that if that didn't work I would try to find a "no kill" shelter. She immediately responded that "those don't exist." I replied that they do, and we agreed that she would stop feeding Turtle to see if she would come back home. Two days went by and she finally showed herself on the windowsill for food. I put her in the garage, and gave her food and left to take the kids to school. She stayed the remainder of the day, and left sometime before night fall. She never came back.
A week has gone by, and today I was in the driveway cleaning the van, when Joyful pulled in. I went up to her fully prepared to talk about Turtle. She said Turtle was still at her house and she had slammed her finger in her fence trying to get Turtle away from her sick cat. She then asked if I had the found cat sign she had put out. I retrieved it from the truck and wiped the dirt off of it and gave it to her. She said something else to me, but the scowl on her face had me a little on guard and I don't remember what she said. I then heard a distinct "shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" coming from the van and deduced that Little Brother was in there helping me clean with the pledge that I had left unattended. I pulled him out of the van and wiped up the oil slick of pledge and tossed the can and towel into the vines next to me. Joyful said "I don't mean to bother you" and I said "that's ok" as I waved off the van. "That's not what I mean; do you have the metal piece that goes to the bottom of my sign?"
I am sure the expression on my face showed just how pissed off I was. I looked in the truck with no luck only to find that she had exited her car and was now sauntering towards my garage to take a look for herself. I stopped her by saying that if my husband had put it in the garage I would know. She then informed me that she didn't give my husband permission to take her sign, and that they cost her 8 dollars apiece. (My husband tells me that she was present when he picked up the sign and that she said she didn't care) This was the beginning of the confrontation. Joyful began asking questions about if my garage was open and if Turtle could even get in, and where is the food for her and how is she supposed to get in because "you didn't put her collar on her." I literally said, "Whoa, stop right there! How dare you come into my drive, and begin to judge me as if I have been irresponsible in this situation." She said, "You have been irresponsible. I called the pound, and you are wrong, they do kill them." I explained that I was not talking about the pound I was referring to the Humane Society or the SPCA and at this point I had had enough.
"You do not get to come to my house, in front of my children and begin accusing me of being irresponsible in a situation that was created by you. YOU are the one that has made the choice to feed my cat continuously. YOU decided to take her in instead of taking her to the pound, where they would have found out we are the owners because of the chip, and you are the one who continues to feed her despite the agreement we had." She began to get teary eyed, but I didn't care. She did this in front of my boys and I was pissed off more that I have been in a long time. I told her I had to go get my daughter from school, and after that I would be by to get Turtle. She said, "I don't want you to come on my property." I said, "Oh, you don't get to pull that one, Joyful. As a matter of fact before you go, let me write you a check for that 8 dollars." She said, "I won't cash it"
"I don't care if you cash it or not, at least you can't say we didn't cover it" She got in her car to leave, as I ushered my kids into the van. I told her I was coming right now to get the cat. I back out and followed her around the block. I don't know why she drove past her house, but we live in a bunch of cul-de-sacs, so I turned around and parked in front of her driveway. I marched my mad butt back to her fence and got Turtle. As I got back into the van she said, you aren't going to take you to the pound are you. I told her not to worry about it. She said, "I don't want her to get killed" and I told her she would be just fine. I took Turtle back to the house and locked you in the cat carrier in the garage and left to get Big Sister from school. I was now 20 minutes past my leave time.
As I drove I tried to turn this into a learning experience for Big Brother. I explained that it was a confrontation and that as he saw, it is important to speak clearly and to explain your point of view without losing your temper. Blah Blah Blah. I saw some election signs with the metal posts that Joyful had been referring to so I stopped to pick one up. I was still fuming as I yanked the thing out of the yard and turned to get into the van. "Did he win already?" The guy across the street yelled at me. I smiled a little panicked at the situation and said, "Not yet, just need this in another yard." Got in and shut the door. Big Brother asked me what the sign was. I explained it had the piece I needed for the "old lady" who was just at our house. He then said, "Mom that's stealing."
Well, there is no way to justify it. He was right. I explained that I was mad, and that I made a bad choice because of it. I asked what he thought I should do about it. He said "take it back" and I told him he was right. So, after getting Big Sister from school I took the sign back. I was fully prepared to own up to the guy across the street but he wasn't there. I made sure Big Brother saw what I did. I told him I was sorry. It's funny how sometimes in taking the "high road" you can end up with a little bird poop in your face.
I was in the process of getting the kids ready to take Big Brother to school and opened the garage door so that I could warm up the van. Well, Turtle ran for her life. It's not like I locked her in the attic on purpose, but that didn't really matter to her. This time I was worried as the weather was expected to get into the teens for the next few nights, but I thought she would come back in the morning. She didn't. Two weeks went by without a single sighting. I didn't contact the pound as she has a chip and they would have contacted me, I really just assumed she had curled up somewhere and froze.
The kids and I went to Amarillo. While we were there, my husband was out in the neighborhood with our dog when this lady asked if he knew who owned the cat in her photo. It was Turtle. She had taken Turtle in when the weather got cold, and was now looking for the owner's because Turtle "attacks" her sick cat. Knowing Turtle, she probably just hisses at the thing, but whatever. Alex left the cat retrieval up to me as he was leaving for work and I was due home in a couple of days. When I got home "Joyful" (that's what I'll call our neighbor) wasted no time in coming to find me. As a matter of fact, she was at my neighbor’s house talking to her when she saw me pull into the garage. She dutifully knocked on the garage door until I opened it again.
This was my first time to meet Joyful, and she seemed ok, but there was something my gut felt the moment I saw her and I just couldn't put my finger on it. I explained the cat in the attic incident and the disappearance, she explained taking her in and her sick cat, and so on. She wanted to know if we "sincerely" wanted to keep her or if we were going to find her a new home. Well, I don't really care either way, but I didn't say that. I explained that I would like to see if she would come home again, and that if that didn't work I would try to find a "no kill" shelter. She immediately responded that "those don't exist." I replied that they do, and we agreed that she would stop feeding Turtle to see if she would come back home. Two days went by and she finally showed herself on the windowsill for food. I put her in the garage, and gave her food and left to take the kids to school. She stayed the remainder of the day, and left sometime before night fall. She never came back.
A week has gone by, and today I was in the driveway cleaning the van, when Joyful pulled in. I went up to her fully prepared to talk about Turtle. She said Turtle was still at her house and she had slammed her finger in her fence trying to get Turtle away from her sick cat. She then asked if I had the found cat sign she had put out. I retrieved it from the truck and wiped the dirt off of it and gave it to her. She said something else to me, but the scowl on her face had me a little on guard and I don't remember what she said. I then heard a distinct "shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" coming from the van and deduced that Little Brother was in there helping me clean with the pledge that I had left unattended. I pulled him out of the van and wiped up the oil slick of pledge and tossed the can and towel into the vines next to me. Joyful said "I don't mean to bother you" and I said "that's ok" as I waved off the van. "That's not what I mean; do you have the metal piece that goes to the bottom of my sign?"
I am sure the expression on my face showed just how pissed off I was. I looked in the truck with no luck only to find that she had exited her car and was now sauntering towards my garage to take a look for herself. I stopped her by saying that if my husband had put it in the garage I would know. She then informed me that she didn't give my husband permission to take her sign, and that they cost her 8 dollars apiece. (My husband tells me that she was present when he picked up the sign and that she said she didn't care) This was the beginning of the confrontation. Joyful began asking questions about if my garage was open and if Turtle could even get in, and where is the food for her and how is she supposed to get in because "you didn't put her collar on her." I literally said, "Whoa, stop right there! How dare you come into my drive, and begin to judge me as if I have been irresponsible in this situation." She said, "You have been irresponsible. I called the pound, and you are wrong, they do kill them." I explained that I was not talking about the pound I was referring to the Humane Society or the SPCA and at this point I had had enough.
"You do not get to come to my house, in front of my children and begin accusing me of being irresponsible in a situation that was created by you. YOU are the one that has made the choice to feed my cat continuously. YOU decided to take her in instead of taking her to the pound, where they would have found out we are the owners because of the chip, and you are the one who continues to feed her despite the agreement we had." She began to get teary eyed, but I didn't care. She did this in front of my boys and I was pissed off more that I have been in a long time. I told her I had to go get my daughter from school, and after that I would be by to get Turtle. She said, "I don't want you to come on my property." I said, "Oh, you don't get to pull that one, Joyful. As a matter of fact before you go, let me write you a check for that 8 dollars." She said, "I won't cash it"
"I don't care if you cash it or not, at least you can't say we didn't cover it" She got in her car to leave, as I ushered my kids into the van. I told her I was coming right now to get the cat. I back out and followed her around the block. I don't know why she drove past her house, but we live in a bunch of cul-de-sacs, so I turned around and parked in front of her driveway. I marched my mad butt back to her fence and got Turtle. As I got back into the van she said, you aren't going to take you to the pound are you. I told her not to worry about it. She said, "I don't want her to get killed" and I told her she would be just fine. I took Turtle back to the house and locked you in the cat carrier in the garage and left to get Big Sister from school. I was now 20 minutes past my leave time.
As I drove I tried to turn this into a learning experience for Big Brother. I explained that it was a confrontation and that as he saw, it is important to speak clearly and to explain your point of view without losing your temper. Blah Blah Blah. I saw some election signs with the metal posts that Joyful had been referring to so I stopped to pick one up. I was still fuming as I yanked the thing out of the yard and turned to get into the van. "Did he win already?" The guy across the street yelled at me. I smiled a little panicked at the situation and said, "Not yet, just need this in another yard." Got in and shut the door. Big Brother asked me what the sign was. I explained it had the piece I needed for the "old lady" who was just at our house. He then said, "Mom that's stealing."
Well, there is no way to justify it. He was right. I explained that I was mad, and that I made a bad choice because of it. I asked what he thought I should do about it. He said "take it back" and I told him he was right. So, after getting Big Sister from school I took the sign back. I was fully prepared to own up to the guy across the street but he wasn't there. I made sure Big Brother saw what I did. I told him I was sorry. It's funny how sometimes in taking the "high road" you can end up with a little bird poop in your face.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Big Sister
I decided to take a break this morning and watch the news with a cup of tea. Big mistake. I have learned that when the kids are too quiet you need to check on them. This morning was different. They, all three, because Big Brother is home sick from school, were playing really well, laughing, running, and giggling all morning long. None of that really changed while I sat enjoying my tea.
It wasn't until Little Brother came into the TV room spinning a cup around the top of a stick like a top. This was Big Brother's cup from breakfast, and the last I remember, it was on the table half full of milk. Uh oh. My first thought was, "great, now your contaminated." My second was, "please, please, please tell me you drank it..." On the kitchen table was a puddle of milk. The cereal bowl had been emptied as well as the cup, and at first glance, some of it had to have been consumed because there just wasn't that much. I grabbed a towel and wet it down and walked into the spill zone.
At closer inspection, I noticed it wasn't just a spill, there was actually splatter. This means that not only did he pour it onto the table, he also enjoyed the play session he had with the sugary sweet mess. I wiped it all up, being careful not to step on the spill spots on the floor, and commenced with pseudo mopping the floor with the same towel. Anyone who has cleaned up a spill properly knows that it covers everything. So as I cleaned each of the legs on three of the chairs, I noticed the streaks running down the walls, and then the windows. Apparently he hadn't consumed as much of it as I thought because the walls were now works of art, only you could only see it if you held your head just right. So, I cleaned them up, what else was I to do. Here is the kicker...I had just wiped down and cleaned all the walls and baseboards and windows in that area yesterday. Go figure, it's like that when I mop too. I don't even get mad when the first beverage is spilled just hours after I have finished, just shake my head and clean it up.
I was getting the milk taken care of and Big Sister was helping. While my beautiful curly haired girl diligently wiped down the windows, I gave her a hard time about letting Little Brother do this, and letting me know next time if he makes a mess. That's when it happened. I looked closer at what we were cleaning. The previously spotless windows were actually blurry, and the milk on the floor really wasn't puddled, just kinda wet. Big Sister didn't tell me about the mess because she was in there cleaning it up for me. And considering a 3 year old's abilities, she did a really good job. I wasn't really mad at all of this, but realizing how thoughtful my daughter was, really made my day. I stopped everything and snatched her up, buried my face into her little neck and told her what a wonderful girl she is.
Big Sister
I can close my eyes and see you.
Long rings of curly hair.
Brown eyes that glisten like morning dew.
Your cheeks are soft as air.
Today your kindness touched my heart.
You're thoughtful, sweet, and bold.
Precious, to me, a work of art
So wonderful to behold.
It wasn't until Little Brother came into the TV room spinning a cup around the top of a stick like a top. This was Big Brother's cup from breakfast, and the last I remember, it was on the table half full of milk. Uh oh. My first thought was, "great, now your contaminated." My second was, "please, please, please tell me you drank it..." On the kitchen table was a puddle of milk. The cereal bowl had been emptied as well as the cup, and at first glance, some of it had to have been consumed because there just wasn't that much. I grabbed a towel and wet it down and walked into the spill zone.
At closer inspection, I noticed it wasn't just a spill, there was actually splatter. This means that not only did he pour it onto the table, he also enjoyed the play session he had with the sugary sweet mess. I wiped it all up, being careful not to step on the spill spots on the floor, and commenced with pseudo mopping the floor with the same towel. Anyone who has cleaned up a spill properly knows that it covers everything. So as I cleaned each of the legs on three of the chairs, I noticed the streaks running down the walls, and then the windows. Apparently he hadn't consumed as much of it as I thought because the walls were now works of art, only you could only see it if you held your head just right. So, I cleaned them up, what else was I to do. Here is the kicker...I had just wiped down and cleaned all the walls and baseboards and windows in that area yesterday. Go figure, it's like that when I mop too. I don't even get mad when the first beverage is spilled just hours after I have finished, just shake my head and clean it up.
I was getting the milk taken care of and Big Sister was helping. While my beautiful curly haired girl diligently wiped down the windows, I gave her a hard time about letting Little Brother do this, and letting me know next time if he makes a mess. That's when it happened. I looked closer at what we were cleaning. The previously spotless windows were actually blurry, and the milk on the floor really wasn't puddled, just kinda wet. Big Sister didn't tell me about the mess because she was in there cleaning it up for me. And considering a 3 year old's abilities, she did a really good job. I wasn't really mad at all of this, but realizing how thoughtful my daughter was, really made my day. I stopped everything and snatched her up, buried my face into her little neck and told her what a wonderful girl she is.
Big Sister
I can close my eyes and see you.
Long rings of curly hair.
Brown eyes that glisten like morning dew.
Your cheeks are soft as air.
Today your kindness touched my heart.
You're thoughtful, sweet, and bold.
Precious, to me, a work of art
So wonderful to behold.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Sick Day
I have sick kids in the house. It seems to go in rounds, one week runny noses and the next a fever and cough. I used to get so worried when Big Brother would get sick, but now it's not so intimidating. Now I worry more about getting others sick.
In most worlds that wouldn't be a big deal. But in mine, it means seclusion. My husband is not home as much as the "normal" working parent would be. With the exception of phone conversations with my husband, there are many times when a week goes by without seeing or conversing with another adult. There are the occasional conversations with a mom when I am picking up from school, but for the most part, there aren't many grownup conversations happening. Now I know a lot of people would ask why I don't join a Mom's group or something like that. I guess it boils down to commitment. I think about all the things that I have to get accomplished, and I just don't want to commit to anything else. I don't feel I suffer too much. Maybe I am just used to it, it's been like this for almost eight years.
Sick Day
Cough, hack, sneeze, and spray
you caught another cold today.
Come here my sweet, you're burning up,
well that's OK just don't throw up.
I'll kiss your head and hold you tight,
but that's not the place for your nose to wipe.
In most worlds that wouldn't be a big deal. But in mine, it means seclusion. My husband is not home as much as the "normal" working parent would be. With the exception of phone conversations with my husband, there are many times when a week goes by without seeing or conversing with another adult. There are the occasional conversations with a mom when I am picking up from school, but for the most part, there aren't many grownup conversations happening. Now I know a lot of people would ask why I don't join a Mom's group or something like that. I guess it boils down to commitment. I think about all the things that I have to get accomplished, and I just don't want to commit to anything else. I don't feel I suffer too much. Maybe I am just used to it, it's been like this for almost eight years.
Sick Day
Cough, hack, sneeze, and spray
you caught another cold today.
Come here my sweet, you're burning up,
well that's OK just don't throw up.
I'll kiss your head and hold you tight,
but that's not the place for your nose to wipe.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Nap Time
Today was a great day to take a nap. It started with Champ's wet nose rousing me at 6:30 for a potty break. I tried my best to ease out of bed as to not wake my 2 year old, only to stumble into my 3 year old in the hallway (I have a feeling Champ gave her a nose kiss too!) I did my best to hurry the dog outside and escort my daughter back to bed with me to catch a few more minutes of sleep.
Once this starts, I don't really sleep anymore. Typically, I lay there worrying if one of the kids is going to wake the other. About the time my daughter fell asleep, the youngest woke up. He started by sliding his way out of bed, then stood there, climbed back in, cuddled, slid back out of bed and hurried directly into the other room calling for his sister. He succeeded in finding her, only she was in my room, no longer sound asleep, and now Big Brother was awake, too. I guess it's time to greet the day.
Big Brother had a birthday party to attend at 10:30, and we still needed to get the gift and drop off Big Sister and Little Brother at the babysitter's. So needless to say, I hit the floor planning. I fed the kids a good breakfast, got them and myself showered and ready to go by 9:00. Most people would think an hour and a half to get a gift and arrive at a birthday party on time is plenty of time, and it is...in their world. By the time I loaded everyone into the van I noticed a foul odor from Little Brother's diaper. Well, here we go. I have to admit that he has a great personality, he goes with the flow, and handles most things that we throw at him. So, the diaper wasn't a big bump, just a small delay, and watching him hustle like a line backer back to the van takes away any irritation I might have had.
The rest of the morning was great. The birthday party wore out Big Brother and playing at the sitter's took care of the other two. It rained on us on the way home, and that gave me a great reason to take a nap. I usually exercise during this time, but if its raining you can bet I will be napping. Little Brother woke me about an hour into nap, and climbed into bed with me. He fell asleep again, and I just laid there. His head was on my shoulder, his breath was sweet, and I laid there and watched him. I really love being a mom.
Nap Time
I'm quieted by your presence.
Am tranquil in your repose.
I'm effected by your essence
and happy with your nose.
I hold you while you chase your dreams.
Cherish each stolen kiss.
I have more love for you my sweet
than I thought could ever exist.
Once this starts, I don't really sleep anymore. Typically, I lay there worrying if one of the kids is going to wake the other. About the time my daughter fell asleep, the youngest woke up. He started by sliding his way out of bed, then stood there, climbed back in, cuddled, slid back out of bed and hurried directly into the other room calling for his sister. He succeeded in finding her, only she was in my room, no longer sound asleep, and now Big Brother was awake, too. I guess it's time to greet the day.
Big Brother had a birthday party to attend at 10:30, and we still needed to get the gift and drop off Big Sister and Little Brother at the babysitter's. So needless to say, I hit the floor planning. I fed the kids a good breakfast, got them and myself showered and ready to go by 9:00. Most people would think an hour and a half to get a gift and arrive at a birthday party on time is plenty of time, and it is...in their world. By the time I loaded everyone into the van I noticed a foul odor from Little Brother's diaper. Well, here we go. I have to admit that he has a great personality, he goes with the flow, and handles most things that we throw at him. So, the diaper wasn't a big bump, just a small delay, and watching him hustle like a line backer back to the van takes away any irritation I might have had.
The rest of the morning was great. The birthday party wore out Big Brother and playing at the sitter's took care of the other two. It rained on us on the way home, and that gave me a great reason to take a nap. I usually exercise during this time, but if its raining you can bet I will be napping. Little Brother woke me about an hour into nap, and climbed into bed with me. He fell asleep again, and I just laid there. His head was on my shoulder, his breath was sweet, and I laid there and watched him. I really love being a mom.
Nap Time
I'm quieted by your presence.
Am tranquil in your repose.
I'm effected by your essence
and happy with your nose.
I hold you while you chase your dreams.
Cherish each stolen kiss.
I have more love for you my sweet
than I thought could ever exist.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Speak Rationally
I went to my friends house for a play date today. The kids had a great time playing in the dirt, and I had a great time letting them. I watched them dig for treasure, get the bad guys and bury each other for a couple of hours and didn't hear anyone complain. Moments like that are priceless. I find they happen more when I step out of the picture and let them just be kids.
The tranquility was disrupted when it was time to go. When I announced it was time, I was informed of my little girls dislike of the situation by her incessant whining. God, I hate whining....no really, I HATE whining. I spent way too much time teaching all three of my kids sign language when they were 6 months old so that I could avoid it. Just tell me what you want. I cannot and will not decipher your cryptic 3 year old whine message. AHHHHH. This continued from the moment I announced departure, through the loading of the children, seat belt attachment and takeoff. I finally threatened a spanking if it didn't cease, and after threatening literally 4 more times, I had to pull over and follow through. (I really don't like to spank them, but I'll tell you about that another time.)
Well, we are home now, and all is quite.
Good night.
Speak Rationally
"My dear sweet daughter", I'll say all the while
I grit my teeth behind my smile.
"Why, oh why do you whine this way?"
But that's not all I want to say.
If I could scream and throw a fit
I'd show you why I hate this shit.
Your fits are exhausting,obnoxious and crude.
Our quiet ride home has just been screwed.
With all the strength that's left in me
I try my best to speak rationally,
"My sweet, sweet girl, I know you're tired
so to your bed you'll soon retire."
The tranquility was disrupted when it was time to go. When I announced it was time, I was informed of my little girls dislike of the situation by her incessant whining. God, I hate whining....no really, I HATE whining. I spent way too much time teaching all three of my kids sign language when they were 6 months old so that I could avoid it. Just tell me what you want. I cannot and will not decipher your cryptic 3 year old whine message. AHHHHH. This continued from the moment I announced departure, through the loading of the children, seat belt attachment and takeoff. I finally threatened a spanking if it didn't cease, and after threatening literally 4 more times, I had to pull over and follow through. (I really don't like to spank them, but I'll tell you about that another time.)
Well, we are home now, and all is quite.
Good night.
Speak Rationally
"My dear sweet daughter", I'll say all the while
I grit my teeth behind my smile.
"Why, oh why do you whine this way?"
But that's not all I want to say.
If I could scream and throw a fit
I'd show you why I hate this shit.
Your fits are exhausting,obnoxious and crude.
Our quiet ride home has just been screwed.
With all the strength that's left in me
I try my best to speak rationally,
"My sweet, sweet girl, I know you're tired
so to your bed you'll soon retire."
Thursday, January 21, 2010
My Shower Moment
Knowing where to begin is the hardest thing. I am a stay at home mom. I have three beautiful children, and am frequently on my own when it comes running the household and raising our children. This scenario provides me with ample opportunity to completely loose my sanity.
I have a hard time committing to things. Mostly, I am afraid to commit to something that will require me to spend what little time I have on something I don't want to spend my time on. Selfish...maybe, but I am hoping it is more common than we want to admit.
So what does commitment have to do with a shower moment? Well, it was in the shower today that I decided what I wanted to do. After I put my little ones down for a nap, a took a few moments to read through a book my sister gave me. It's is a collection of poetry put together by Julie Andrews and her daughter and some other guy. My shower moment wasn't about the book, it was about my inability to stop rhyming. Everything that I thought of was in rhyme. It was then that I decided I was going to thwart my enemy (insanity) and write about being a Mom in rhyme.
OK...so I obviously don't want to write everything in rhythm and verse, but I do want to take the moment each night to write about my life lessons (even if they are about poop.)
So, here I am. My first night. My commitment. My fear. But considering I don't really have anyone reading this, I don't really have much to loose.
Wait, stop, what, there it is
another idea fell through my sieve.
I'm chasing thoughts through a dangerous land
where nothing stands still at my command.
I have a hard time committing to things. Mostly, I am afraid to commit to something that will require me to spend what little time I have on something I don't want to spend my time on. Selfish...maybe, but I am hoping it is more common than we want to admit.
So what does commitment have to do with a shower moment? Well, it was in the shower today that I decided what I wanted to do. After I put my little ones down for a nap, a took a few moments to read through a book my sister gave me. It's is a collection of poetry put together by Julie Andrews and her daughter and some other guy. My shower moment wasn't about the book, it was about my inability to stop rhyming. Everything that I thought of was in rhyme. It was then that I decided I was going to thwart my enemy (insanity) and write about being a Mom in rhyme.
OK...so I obviously don't want to write everything in rhythm and verse, but I do want to take the moment each night to write about my life lessons (even if they are about poop.)
So, here I am. My first night. My commitment. My fear. But considering I don't really have anyone reading this, I don't really have much to loose.
Wait, stop, what, there it is
another idea fell through my sieve.
I'm chasing thoughts through a dangerous land
where nothing stands still at my command.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
