Our 20 Year Payoff

Dinner and Laundry.

2018-09-12T17:53:00.000-07:00

When you reflect upon your childhood there are often commonalities that people of similar age groups recall…. My Buddy, Kid Sister, Pound Puppies, GI Joe, My little Ponies, specific movies and tv shows…Full House, Saved by the Bell, you catch my drift. To go along with that, there are often specific meals that people of similar economic status can recount, mine being what some of my co-workers have labeled as “poor person food” and to include mashed potato cakes, goulash, spaghetti…things that are, of course DELICIOUS, but served another purpose of being able to be made in large batches or being able to still have flavor when reheated the following day…or week! There are also things that so many kids recall….Cedar Point, Disney, spring break in Florida….I don’t have those recollections, but I do vividly remember long cross country road trips with no entertainment that ended with a week of tent camping in the mountains and bathing in ice cold mountain lakes. Our vacations were not elaborate, but they were meaningful and I truly believe that I could speak for hours about all of the seemingly minute details.

I made a quick stop today after work to see my parents. I only live 4 miles from them, I see them seldom…because of…life! I’m busy, or at least I feel that way. Soccer, swimming, work, 4-H, meetings…again…you catch my drift! I do have to admit, it was a selfish after work plan. I needed my mom. (That will never go away) I needed to ask her how she did it. How did she work 40 + hours a week as a teacher in a classroom of 25 children and then come home and work until bed? How was there a daily full course meal on the table, how was my laundry always clean, how did she get me to ALL of my after school activities and NEVER MISS A GAME? How? Because as I count the hours in the day I’m just not understanding…. She must have a secret…or she’s a witch (which I believed to be true through the majority of my teenage years). But seriously, the house had clutter, but there were never left over dirty dishes, never gross sinks in the bathroom, laundry was always done and FOLDED.…yes…FOLDED…ALL OF IT! How? So, with tears welling in my eyes, I asked….I asked how there was always an amazing dinner, how we all sat down together every day to eat the amazing dinner, how she managed to feed the horses, dogs, goats, bunnies, cats, and her family? And how was there never dog hair on the furniture? Again…I ask…How? My children often have “Make your Own Dinner Night” or “Fruit Night” that consists of me rummaging the fridge and pantry for fresh and canned fruit, fruit snacks, fruit pop-tarts, things that have the word fruit in the label….and having a free-for-all! So…How?

She paused for a quick moment and said, “I had only two priorities. Dinner and Laundry. I always knew we had to eat and I always knew people needed clean clothes. Just those two things. And when I had time, I vacuumed.” Later in the conversation, she said, “You were young. You don’t remember the mess.” And that is when I suddenly felt that there was something in my eye…I’m not crying, you’re crying! I’m pretty sure though, that I do remember…I remember that after she came home from work, she worked more. She fed the animals, she got me to practice, she cooked dinner, she set the table (every night), she did dishes…and then she rested…if you can consider sitting down for a few minutes before bed as “resting.” I remember her weekends being filled with laundry, but still making time to be wherever I needed to be. I also remember always laughing at how tired she was and picking on her for not being able to stay up late to watch TV. I remember her waking up every single day before anyone else in the house. I remember her clinging to that hour of “alone time” every morning with her coffee and toast that she peeled the crust off to let the onlooking dogs have their morning snack. I remember. Dishes and Laundry. I keep saying those words over and over in my head….dishes and laundry. Thirty years later, she thinks her only priorities were dishes and laundry. She has no idea how much more she did. Dinner and Laundry. Dinner...And....Laundry.

My Baseball Princess.

2016-04-17T19:58:00.000-07:00

She must have told me 1,000 times today that she loved me. Hug after hug, kisses on my cheek. She grabbed my face to make me bow my head so she could kiss my forehead. She held my hand, my leg, helped me coach volleyball today, cleaned her room, and then told me a million more times how much she loved me. She told me I was the best mommy ever, her favorite person. Today was a good day, one of those days that a parent doesn’t always have, one where they feel appreciated. It was a good day.

And then tonight, after the bath, as I was helping her get out, she was still happy and amazing and perfect. Her perfect little four year old self. Then, as she stepped out of the tub, she sucked her cute little belly in as far as she could and said, “I wish my belly was flat like this.” I was stunned, I had no words at that moment. My heart sank. Why? Before I could utter any words, she said, “I wish my legs were skinny. Then I could run faster. When I sit down in Daddy’s car, my legs get really big. I wish they were skinnier.” Where is this coming from, did I do this?

I grew up with body image issues, it’s quite honestly something that is forever on one’s mind. Once it’s there, it is always there. Every time you eat anything, you think about it. Every time you exercise, or don’t exercise, you think about it. I’ve grown up, become a mother, and realized how unimportant a flat belly or skinny legs really are and it has been a practice of mine to preach health and happiness, even though the other stuff is still there...on your mind. I’ve tried to be an example for them. We stay active, we love sports....we also love pizza and cake, but that’s beside the point, everything in moderation right?! They watch me coach sports, they watch us play sports, they run with me, ride bikes, play basketball....But where did I go wrong, it broke my heart.

I explained to my beautiful daughter that bodies all look different and she could run faster than a lot of people, and if she didn’t that’s okay too! I told her that her body is so healthy and the way she looks means she is strong! I said it all with a smile, even though I was crying on the inside. She’s so perfect, that’s all I could think of.... YOU ARE SO AMAZINGLY PERFECT IN EVERY WAY. But not enough girls believe it. It is easier to believe the negative, that there’s always something to fix, that you should always be working on something, changing something, being better, doing better. And it starts at age 4?

Here’s the thing girls, and yes, as I write this I’m sure there’s a special guy out there that I will hear from soon that is probably going to tell me that I should believe the good things as well....but it is hard....but again, here’s the thing.... YOU ARE SO AMAZINGLY PERFECT. My daughter, at age 4, is one of my biggest inspirations in life because she has always marched to her own beat. As a baby, her eyes lit up an entire room, so bold and beautiful, and she’s always so happy. She has never cared what people thought, she wears her princess dress to play baseball and it is AWESOME!!! My thoughts are consumed with this fear that “they’ve got her.” They say she needs to be...and she will try to be....

I hope when she wakes up tomorrow her worries of not being perfect are gone forever. I hope she dreams of playing ball, playing with horses, riding her bike, and everything else she loves, and when she wakes up she will feel perfect again. Because she is so great, so inspiring, and so perfect.

And Then We Danced

2016-03-10T18:14:00.000-08:00

It was a rushed day, as usual. I feel like most days are. We got home, my house was atrociously messy, dishes overflowing because...well, I'm lazy...and my goal was to get the house cleaned tonight. The kids played outside while I cooked a quick dinner. Before finishing dinner and dishes, they had already turned a movie on...Space Jam, their new favorite! Okay...just for tonight, dinner in front of the TV, while I continued dishes. This is quality time with my family, right? Yeah, yeah...but I could live in filth no longer!

Time passed, quickly as always, and it was time to finish dinner and take some baths. They needed to be in bed on time, I knew they were tired from a previous fun filled day outside playing with their grandpa and the litter of new kittens at his house! I went into the living room to urge them to move quicker...that never works, but I continue making the attempts! The movie was over and credits were playing...with music.

Me: "Come on guys! Let's go! Time to be done."

Presley: "I'm busy. I'm dancing."

So, instead of fighting the losing battle of rushing kids, I joined in. While Ben sat in the chair making memories of how silly his mom looked, Presley and I danced like crazy people! No rhythm, slow danced to fast songs, fast danced to slow songs, it didn't matter. All three of us scream sang I Believe I can Fly.

With the schedules, school, work, appointments, practices, homework, and bedtime I often forget how awesome my kids are and how much happiness they unknowingly give to me...when I let them. I'm sure within a few days, or weeks, they will have long forgotten those few minutes, maybe not, but I know that I will remember that snippet in time forever. They are little pieces of something amazing in this world, and as much as all parents love their children, I don't think I'm the only one that sometimes forgets to join in the fun. It won't last forever.

Thank you Ben and Presley, for the memory tonight.

He Found my Kryptonite

2016-03-08T19:19:00.000-08:00

Today was the day. The day all parents try to hide from their kids. Without warning, without any type of indication, they found it...they found my kryptonite. I’ve worked incredibly hard for 6 years to make my children believe I’m a superhero. They think I’m strong, they think I’m smart, they think I have my SH** together! I should be paid for this incredible charade I’ve kept up for so long! But....it all ended today, harshly, quickly....shamefully.

We arrived home after school and work as usual. Being one of the first amazing days after winter, the kids were pumped to change clothes and head back outside. Presley ran through the doors and headed straight to her bedroom. I heard a piercing scream. My heart stopped. She’s not a screamer, and definitely not about anything in her bedroom. She came running down the stairs crying.

Me: “What’s wrong?”

Presley: “There’s a snake in my room.”

Me: “WHAT?!?”

Presley: “There’s a snake in my room.” Still crying.

Me: “Where did it go?” (Not sure why I expected her to have stayed to watch it.)

Presley “It’s in my room.”

My first thought was that her door needed to be shut to trap the snake in her room, and my second thought was...THERE’S NO WAY IN HELL I’M GOING UPSTAIRS! My third, fourth, and fifth thoughts were to burn the house, move out, or call SOMEONE. I began the list of numbers to call, but nobody would be here fast enough to hunt a snake. We were about 17 seconds away from getting in the car and leaving EVERYTHING behind, including the dogs. It’ll be fine, we can begin a new life somewhere miles away where the python won’t find us.

And then Ben laughed a little.

Me: “What did you do?”

Ben: “Nothing.”

Me: “WHAT DID YOU DO?”

Ben: “Nothing.”

Me: “LIAR.”

He then asked Presley if it was fake. My heart is still pumping, I’m nearing a full panic attack. And then I wonder what happens when I pass out and die and the “maybe fake” or “maybe real” snake eats me? I’ve never taught my kids how to dial 911 from my cell phone. Surely we will all die within days. I forced myself to pretend to be mad instead of scared.

Me: “Go get the fake snake Ben.”

Ben: “No! I’m scared of snakes.”

Me: “GO GET THE DAMN SNAKE AND THROW IT AWAY!”

Ben: “No.”

So, I don’t usually let my kids say no when given a direction, but how could I force him to go handle the situation when I couldn’t even handle it? Parenting is hard. Adulting is hard. I read all of the What to Expect books cover to cover, twice....THIS is not in there.

Presley walked me upstairs. She held my hand and led the way as if I were the child. We needed to see if the snake had moved. I still wasn’t completely convinced it was fake. (Stop judging me for attempting to force my 6 year old to conquer a monster. I can’t help it.) Presley tiptoed into her room far enough to see IT. She screamed and ran back out. She said it was still in the same place. OMG..... I tiptoed in, just far enough to see it’s hideous face...not moving.

Meanwhile....Ben stands behind us pretending he wants to see it and laughing. I made him get a plastic garbage bag to put the monster in and throw it in the garbage OUTSIDE. On our way downstairs...he threw the bag with the FAKE snake in it at me....so I screamed. He’s still laughing. I’m sure that little nut is laughing in his sleep.

He figured me out. Now I will forever live in fear. Fear of April Fool’s Day. Fear of summer and the words, “Mom, I have something for you.” Fear of a fake snake floating in my toilet in the middle of the night. FEAR. I’ll be continuing my life, but with a new xanax prescription.

Your Mom Still Takes Care of You

2016-02-28T17:29:00.000-08:00

It shouldn’t take a four year old to remind me how spectacular and lucky I am to have such an amazing mom. I know it, I think it, but I am so used to it that I don’t always appreciate it.

My little lady was very bored tonight, four year old bored....meaning that her response to every suggestion was, “I’ve already done that or I’ve already seen that toy today.” All of that translates to, “Mom...entertain me.” Those of you that know me well, know that I’m terrible at entertaining my children, especially if it doesn’t have to do with sports or movies! Anyway, she was desperate for entertainment and asked if she could sit on my lap and watch me work on the computer. Yes, of course, that’s easy, and how can anyone say no to a perfect little angel face asking to sit on your lap? Right...you can’t. So as I lifted her once tiny body onto my lap, I pretended to struggle to lift her...she always laughs at this!

Me: “Oh my gosh Presley, you’re getting so big. I can barely lift you anymore! (She giggled) I don’t know if I like you getting big.”

Presley: “You want me to stay little?”

Me: “Well, I just like you being little because then I can take care of you.”

Presley: “You can take care of me when I’m big too. I’ll let you. Your mom takes care of you. She cooked you dinner today, and gave you water, and loves you.”

Of course then I wanted to cry. She was right. Very right. We visit with my mom often and she has never stopped being a mom. We go to visit and play, she feeds me. I mention needing a phone number for something, she finds it. I mention having a headache, or any other type of ailment, she makes a diagnosis! I get hung up at work, she picks up the kids from school and handles the afternoon routine.

“Momming” never ends. I should know this. A lot of people are fortunate to share this experience, but I think it goes unappreciated by so many. Our little conversation also reassured me that I’ll still be able to take care of my babies forever.

How Could I Say No?

2015-11-17T19:41:00.000-08:00

It’s only November 17th, a few traditions were broken today in my house...but how could I say no? The Christmas Tree went up today. Lights on, decorations hung, star lit.

They’ve been asking for a couple of weeks now, I think I did a stellar job of making a million excuses about why we needed to wait to decorate for Christmas. “It’s not even Halloween yet.” “We don’t want to confuse Santa.” “Umm...your room is too messy.” “It’s against the law to turn on Christmas lights too early.” I gave in today, and did the unthinkable, or at least the unthinkable in my book....I bought a fake tree. I’m going to refer to it as a “prefabricated evergreen” just to make myself feel a little better about this decision. Never in my life have I had a prefabricated evergreen for Christmas, although I do distinctly remember begging my mom for one when I was little, mostly because I was positive we consistently picked the prickliest tree that shed the most needles every year that I continued to feel in the bottom of my feet months after Christmas. My mom always stayed strong though, always a naturally fabricated evergreen. I convinced myself that a prefabricated evergreen would allow for quicker set up, less clean up, and fewer puncture wounds to the bottoms of my feet....JUSTIFIED! If done right, I may not even need to remove lights or decorations, just find some muscles to carry it to the basement for me. We shall see!

Once the prefabricated evergreen was assembled by the adult that instructions indicated was required, Ben and Presley were dragging boxes out of my closet full of decorations. I sat back and watched them unwrap every ornament with the same kind of excitement that they open Santa’s gifts with. They liked hearing stories about the ornaments they had previously made or the ornaments that were given to our family on their first Christmas. As they ran through the house with decorations, and so independently hung them on the tree I was sadly reminded of how little time I have left with believers of Santa in my life.

If I’m lucky I’ll have two more years. Two more years to use Santa as a behavior management tool, two more years of convincing them that Santa enjoys pizza rolls and Captain Morgan rather than cookies and milk, two more years of making reindeer food, and two more years of waking up to two excited kids screaming about the things Santa left under the tree. Two more years....maybe.

So how could I say no to setting up the tree a tad early? I couldn’t. I want to hold onto this forever. So, the stockings are hung, the tree is decorated from kid arm’s reach and lower, and the colorful lights are on...because they wanted it.

A few things I've learned from Presley

2015-10-25T18:04:00.000-07:00

She told everyone to arrive promptly at 40 O’Clock and the only things she requested for her fourth birthday were a teddy bear with blue eyes and cake. When asked how she felt about being four, she very excitedly stated, “My arm seems longer!” Her happiness comes from experiences, not toys. She’s happiest with her cousins and friends and snuggling on the couch with me before bedtime. The little lady who’s eyes have always made an entire room light up is now four.

It was exactly one year ago when my life unexpectedly changed. The family that we had worked so hard make would change forever. My husband informed me that he wanted a divorce. Something I never imagined would plague my family. I’ll never know the outcome if we would have remained married and I will never know what outcome would have been best for the kids. I can say that a few wonderful things have happened and my outlook on life is completely different than it was just one short year ago, much of this is because of my girl.

Although only 3 until yesterday, I’ve learned a lot from her and I’m so thankful for the little person that was placed into my life a few short years ago. Little does she know, she has quickly found a spot in all of our hearts and taught us so much...

Life lessons from Presley:

Smile: Your eyes are so beautiful when you smile, and even if you’re sad, depressed, sick or tired, smiling at yourself in the mirror for long enough will trick your brain into being happy! Smile at your reflection every morning and say, “I’m so cute.”

Forgiveness: There’s no reason to stay mad. It’s okay to be upset, and it’s okay to tell a three hour story of why you’re upset to anyone who will listen, but tomorrow is a new day. People make mistakes, life goes on, and the person who pushed you down on recess today can still be your friend tomorrow.

Hugs: Physical touch is a great way to mend a broken heart. Hugs for no reason are the best!

Paint Nailish: Yes, Paint Nailish. Painting your fingernails and toenails is a great way to clear your brain and focus. It is especially nice to allow someone else to apply paint nailish to your toes and fingers (notice I said toes and fingers, not toenails and fingernails!) Very relaxing!

Animals: Connect with animals any chance you get. Ride a horse whenever possible and hug your dogs every day.

Love: Talk about who you love often, spend time with those you love, tell those you love how much you care, even if they don’t always want to hear it!

Happy Birthday Presley! You are growing up to be something amazing!

61

2015-06-09T19:11:00.000-07:00

It was a rushed evening. Leave work, pick up my niece from her friend's house, pick up the kids from daycare, head home for a quick snack and change of clothes, and then off to Benji's tee-ball game! In case you were wondering, we won...because we have 10 kids, and the other team has 9....and there are no outs...and everyone bats...AND that's another story for another day! (But we won.) Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, being rushed. My lack of patience and the dent in the middle of my forehead from a constant scowl (runs in the family--thanks Dad). Days like this are hectic, and rather than being late, as I often was growing up (again, thanks Dad), I'm determined to be way too early to everything...so rush, rush, rush...then relax and enjoy. We arrived to Ben's ball game with far too much time on our hands, so rather than relax...it was time to entertain Ben and Presley until the other coach arrived. Oh, have I mentioned that I'm an assistant tee-ball coach? Adding this to my resume! Play catch, take 14 trips to the portapotty that I swear has not been cleaned since last summer, and wait. Waiting is always fun with kids!

The game starts, it's fun, Ben rocks it--did you know it's imperitive to do a head first dive into first, second, third, and home base? He must learn that from his dad! All two innings lasted over an hour...and then finally, relax time. Bedtime went out the window tonight, we were going to the only restaurant in town because I didn't feel like cooking tonight. And of course, summer break has begun, who needs a bedtime anyway? So, to the Office Bar we went, it was Burger night! Don't judge me for taking my kids to the bar, it's the only restaurant in my town! More waiting, but this waiting was okay. Finally a free minute to talk to the kids. So we talked about daycare activites, about the ball game, summer plans, and before Presley asked me for another baby in the family as she does every day, I asked her!

Me: "Presley, how many babies are you going to have when you grow up?"
Presley: "Sixty one."
Me: "Oh, wow, that would be a lot of diapers to change every day. Are you sure you want that many babies?"
Presley: "I'm going to have sixty one babies."
Me: "Do you know who the daddy of the 61 babies will be?"
Presley: "Pun!"

Pun is her grandpa. She spends quite a bit of time with him and obviously thinks he is pretty great! I'm sure he would make a lovely father, although he wasn't too keen on the idea when I told him all about his only grandaughter's future plans for him! After quite a hectic evening, we were finally able to relax and enjoy...and laugh with Presley. She's only three years old, but she certainly believes she has life figured out, and her ideas are always more than entertaining. I'm sure she's not going to grow up and marry her grandfather and have 61 babies, but I hope she's able to find someone that interests her as much as he does....and of course he will need to have a Harley, just like Pun!

The Tail.

2015-04-30T15:57:00.000-07:00

Chaos is in the eye of the beholder I’ve learned...to some (or most), our morning routine would appear to be a hot mess. A chaotic hour filled with making breakfast, arguing over eating breakfast, Tom and Jerry on TV, brushing teeth, taking vitamins, hair styling, getting dressed, taking care of the dogs who bound through the house with the energy of 10 two year olds as soon as my alarm sounds, and trying to either start a load of laundry or load the dishwasher...or both if I have an extra moment. But to us...this is complete organization...and it works well! We are consistently out of the house 7 or 12 minutes after we should have departed, and making me only a few minutes late to work every day!

Normal though, completely normal, organized chaos I guess, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. April 28th, 2015...my morning was interrupted. Forgetting to lay out kid clothes the night prior is a common practice, so with about 10 minutes before our hopeful leave time, I found myself rifling through the dryer attempting to locate “the dark pair of pants” for Benji, whatever that means. Digging, searching, hoping to find the dark pants and avoid a meltdown, and then it flew out of the dryer and landed on my leg. A tail. Yes...a tail. Brown, hairy, and pretty lifeless. As it sat on my knee as it had landed, I paused, stared, and assumed that my eyes were fuzzy due to lack of caffeine. Then...I touched it. As I suspected, it didn’t move. Then I picked it up...still didn’t move. It was definitely a tail. It was small, maybe once connected to a chipmunk or small squirrel, who knows...and how did it get into my dryer?

Several theories have been investigated including the other half part of the creature still being in my dryer (haven’t yet found it, but I haven’t yet folded that load of laundry!), an animal jumped in to the dryer through the dryer vent that leads to freedom, and the most likely theory of one of my children filling their pockets with nature. Of course nobody will admit to it, why would anyone ever admit to pocketing a squirrel tail anyway? My guess is Presley, seems like her sort shenanigan. The last couple of days have been calm, no tails, no feet, no creature bodies. One of these days I’ll get around to folding the laundry, cautiously of course, to avoid finding the rest of the creature, or to slow down the inevitable. But now I’m ready, bring on the surprises!

The Tail.

My Perfect Little Mess

2015-04-07T12:18:00.000-07:00

Her socks don’t match. Her hair is a mess. She has dirt under her fingernails. She would rather shoot guns than play house. She’d rather climb a tree than be safe on the ground. She wants a Mohawk. She is affectionate. She’s beautiful. Her eyes light up any room she enters. She’s my perfect little mess.

My biggest fear for her is that she will change. She will adapt to what everyone else wants her to be. She will no longer be the perfect little mess that she is, but she will strive to be perfect. The confidence will diminish, the nails will be painted, and the hair will be styled.

She has unknowingly taught me how to be a better and more confident person. A few things I’ve learned from her...

1. Socks most definitely do not have to match!

2. Make up should only be used for play, not for necessity.

3. Singing loudly in the car...or in public...is really fun! (Her current favorite song is Drinking Beer with Dad~ Kid Rock)

4. If you’re tired, you should sleep...where ever you may be!

5. Dresses are beautiful...but they aren’t very functional in the sandbox or while climbing a tree.

6. There’s never too many hugs that can be given to one person.

I hope that her spirit can remain young and unbroken. I hope that she will continue to wear baseball caps like her brother and dance around the house to her own beat. I hope she forever sings loudly. I hope she always remains the perfect little mess that she is....because she’s so perfect.

First Thing Monday Morning...

2015-03-22T13:49:00.000-07:00

My evening had been spent alone, completely alone, which is a rarity for me, and sometimes a welcomed change. Even the dogs were outside for the night, so it was just my cat on my lap, mindless TV, my heated blanket, and me. Peace...until...

At about 10:30 PM I decided I could no longer keep my dreary eyes open. I went into the bathroom, looked into the mirror, which is something I rarely make a habit of (those of you who know me well have often seen me with frazzled hair and toothpaste on my shirt in the mornings...I never notice!), and that is when tragedy struck. I saw it. Then I saw them. My heart began to race...or it stopped, I’m not sure which. It was the type of panic that one has when you think you’ve just misplaced your child...and then you find them hiding in the clothing rack at the store. The only difference is that you always find your child and the panic stops. So, imagine...staring into the mirror...and staring back at your is an entire patch of WHITE hair, glowing, sparkling, shining, and blissfully unaware that it is causing tremendous anxiety and forcing you to face an entire future of coloring your hair every 6-8 weeks. Now, I realize that I said “patch” of white hair, and it was a patch, maybe only 4-5 hairs, but it stuck out against the brown like a dazzling diamond sitting atop pea gravel. And where there are 4-5, there will soon be thousands....they reproduce rapidly like rodents.

Remember how I was enjoying being alone? Well, that stopped when I had nobody in the house to reassure me that I wasn’t going to wake up in a nursing home. Falling asleep was difficult, I thought I may not wake up. I’m officially old. How can this be? I don’t feel old, prior to tonight I didn’t think I looked old, and I definitely don’t act old. Gone are the days of being carded for alcohol, and gone are the days of people being amazed at my actual age. Time to give up running, the gym, and late nights at the bar...time to take up knitting, Bingo, and puzzles. My bones will soon begin to predict storms and I’m sure that within the week I’ll be waking up a few times a night to pee.

For now, I’m still alive. I woke up this morning like any other morning, and I didn’t wake up throughout the night to use the bathroom. I’m going to continue with my hobbies and put off knitting as long as possible. I’m still going to stay out late sometimes and drink too much sometimes. I’m still not going to look in the mirror often enough. I’m still going to act like a 20 something and I’m still going to lie about my age...more out of necessity now. But I am also going to schedule a hair appointment at the start of business on Monday morning!

Everything Will Be Better Tomorrow

2015-03-21T18:46:00.000-07:00

Everything Will be Better Tomorrow

You have your family, you have your job, your home, your dogs, your routine...and then the rug is pulled out and everything that was normal is no longer. A few things that I’ve learned over the last few months...

1. You’ll find out who your friends are. There are the type of people in your life that are there because they need to be due to work, school, hobbies, whatever it may be...and then there are the people that are in your life because they want to be. These are the friends that will provide comfort, support, a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on at any time throughout the day or at 2 AM. Keep these people in your life and tell them thank you, without them, you wouldn’t be quite the you that you are today.

2. Your family, aside from your mother who will always be on your side (no matter what that side is!), is never too worried to speak their mind when it needs to be spoken...even if you’re not ready or willing to hear it at the time. They wouldn’t do it if they didn’t care.

3. Even when you feel your worst, your children will always think you’re Supermom or Superdad, so continue to be that person for them. Little kids will always think their dad is the strongest man in the world and that their mom makes the best macaroni and cheese and gives the best hugs. Keep it that way!

4. Your children will always be your greatest love, your greatest job, and your greatest investment. Spend quality time, do extraordinary things often, make memories, be interested in their stories and drawings (even when you don’t know what they are), and be happy with them. It only makes sense that you should focus on how you want your child’s life to look as an adult, be that model for them. When things are difficult, show them how to be strong. When things are easy, show them how to have fun. Show them how to forgive, but teach them to stand up for themselves.

5. “Normal” is whatever you want it to be. The wonderful thing about life is that we have choices and are able to make the abnormal normal.

6. Finally, when things seem unfair and life becomes difficult, put the kids to bed early and have a large glass of wine! Everything will be better tomorrow!

Ham

2014-07-23T18:56:00.000-07:00

Some people have a mother, some have a mom, some have a ma...and on so forth. My family is fortunate to have a Ham. The name came about nearly 13 years ago when her eldest granddaughter struggled to say "Gram" and it came out as "Ham." Needless to say, it stuck. Although she's not thrilled with the nickname, she is stuck with it indefinitely! Not only do family members refer to her as Ham, many of her grandchildren's friends know her as Ham or Hammy, my friends know her as Ham, and she is now introduced to new people as "Ham."

Every summer all eight of the grandchildren look forward to Cousin Camp at Ham's house! Cousin Camp consists of a week or two of the grandchildren gathering to bond and get into trouble at Ham's house and the adults bonding over several bottles of wine throughout the week. The out of state kiddos came equipped with airsoft rifles, swim trunks, and IPads. The local grandkids came equipped with four-wheelers and kayaks in hopes of sneaking away without any adult supervision down the river or on the trails in the woods. The three littles of the eight cousins spent hours playing with kittens, riding horses, swimming in the pool, and catching lightening (or lighting) bugs. All of the kids suffered mosquito bites and exhaustion...naps are not typically part of Cousin Camp!

As all of the kids play and bond with cousins that they see seldom, and the adults bond over wine and dog walking...Ham had the entire week planned. Zoo, Build a Bear for the littles, tent camping in the yard for the kids, Tiger's Game, Ladies Night Dinner Out, and hundreds of dollars worth of french toast sticks, soda, hot dogs, hamburgers, chips, and all of the other food that she cooked for the 8 kids and up to 10 adults daily...most days all three meals were prepared by our Ham! She did countless loads of laundry, countless loads of dishes, and had the patience of a Saint. She also kept two refrigerators stocked and made trips to the grocery store every other day!

While it's amazing to watch my children and the other grandchildren get a small taste of the childhood that my brother's and I experienced, it is always more amazing to think about the effort it takes to keep all of the kids (and adults) sane for a week together with one bathroom! She must be an Angel. Maybe she enjoys the organized chaos of Cousin Camp, maybe not, but we all love and appreciate it...and the kids will be able to share memories throughout their lives. My memories of childhood consist of Hammy chasing the barn cats off the porch with broom, watching her maintain a household while working a full time job, having a healthy dinner on the table and sitting together as a family every night, admiring the way she could fix anything from a vacuum cleaner to the toilet to the electric fence that kept Dad's cows. She mowed the lawn, trimmed, and nursed sick animals...it always seemed like she had more empathy for a sick animal than me when I was ill, but that's beside the point...I'm alive right? She coached my volleyball teams and never missed a softball game or track meet that I ran in. She earned the respect of the community in several different ways, but she's most commonly complimented on her amazing talent as a teacher. She taught in the same school district for countless years and taught hundreds of children to read...what an amazing gift to give someone. We were never friends when I was a kid. She had rules and I was too scared not to follow them, she didn't listen to me complain about school or coaches. She taught me to stand up for what I believed was right and not to be scared of confrontation if there was ever a need. She showed me how to be married to a man that "has a mind of his own." She always did and still does style her hair just to run to the grocery store, she dresses with class, and has beautiful blue eyes. She has a bowl of ice cream every night...usually chocolate with chocolate syrup or chocolate powder sprinkled on it. We are friends now, she's someone I look up to even though she's a few inches shorter than me. She's our Ham and we're so lucky to have her.

Kids These Days!

2014-05-27T17:47:00.000-07:00

The longer I sit here and stare at my computer screen, the more I wonder why I can't think of anything to talk about. It used to flow, never was there a problem thinking of a funny story, or a meaningful idea to blab about...then it came.

Remember when we were little? We couldn't wait for summer break from school, especially when we were old enough to stay home alone? Time was spent outside. I have to say, I was a bit of a "tomboy" for lack of better words so all summer I played outside, rode horses, made forts in the trees, played with the dogs, made tunnels through the hay stacks in our barn, played catch with my dad, swam...

There was also something as a child that I swore I'd never do as an adult....use the phrase, "Kids these Days!" But, here it goes, KIDS THESE DAYS! I had the pleasure of spending several hours with my 14 year old neice and her friend the other day at my house. They came hang out and babysit that evening so Adam and I could go to a DIRT FIRE (That's a story for another day!). Anyway, the entire time the girls were at our house, while I was present, was spent on a device. They came prepared to use our WiFi with a tablet, cell phone, and IPod. They were giggling and snapping pictures of each other doing nothing, and paying little attention to anything going on around them. Even the TV is obsolete to teenagers when they have Snap Chat, texting, Facebook, and whatever other apps my kids better never let me find out they have! It was clear that a boy, or two, was involved with all of the giggles. The friend informed us that she was in a relationship as of two hours ago, Adam and I felt incredibly responsible for the fact that she had a boyfriend and her parents had no idea! I'm not sure how to handle teenagers, I have no practice, but here are a few things I've learned by secretely observing them...

1. They seem utterly content as long as they are connected to some source of WiFi.
2. If there was a natural disaster, you could always rely on a teenager to have saved their IPod, wouldn't want to be without music (or texting or facebook). I didn't even know IPods did that!
3. They text each other even when they are sitting in the same room. So weird.
4. They have boyfriends/girlfriends...but don't go on dates.
5. They don't know what Saved by the Bell is (was).
6. They know everything, and if they don't...well, they do.
7. They dress exactly like the friend they are having a sleepover with.
8. They call sandals "Slides." What does that even mean?

I spent the evening outside with the kids. Presley attempted to help me in the garden, and Ben entertained himself as usual, and then we set up some bases and played baseball...barefoot. It was fun, and healthy, and we all laughed. Then we came inside and assumed our typical nightly routine. They are in bed now, and I wonder what they'll be like at 14 years old. I'd like to say that they won't be obsessed with technology and will still enjoy physical activity and outdoors, but I have no idea. I hope that I can instill in my children a sense of what is truly important in their lives rather than snapping constant selfies and playing World of Warcraft. I hope that my kids will climb trees and play with the animals. I hope they will want to go ride horses and play baseball in 10 years. And I certainly hope they always see the value of verbal communication refrain from texting someone who is in the same room!

Kids these days!

He'll be the boss

2014-03-24T17:42:00.002-07:00

The speed at which children learn has always fascinated me. They typically learn to eat within minutes, they learn to communicate their needs through crying within hours of birth, they learn to smile, to play, to walk....and to manipulate, one of the most important skills of childhood, and then they learn about money. Well, they learn about the idea of money. Most of the time, Ben is convinced that every day that I go to work I come home with a pocket full of cash. And then trying to explain a check or a credit card to a 4 year old, impossible.

Teenage Mutant "Minja" Turtles have been a recent obsession for Ben. Turtle shirts, masks, underwear, "minja" turtle action figures, and begging to paint the bathroom green...and then begging for turtle toys. Perfect time to learn about earning money, right? Adam thought so. He told Ben that he could earn $1 if he cleaned his bedroom and helped Presley clean hers. We're all about cheap labor around here! Anyway, he agreed, the rooms were in excellent condition after about 1/2 hour, and he insisted on showing Adam and me the rooms....then he attempted a negotiation for $2 because it looked so nice! (He didn't win the negotiation, but E for Effort!) After this he begged to do some more chores to earn more money, we insist he use the word "earn" rather than "get" in our home...we also insist he grow up self-sufficient and not on public assistance! Anyway, Adam told him that if he cleaned up the main floor of our house (picked up his own toys) he could earn some more money. As you can imagine, this didn't go as easily or eagerly as the first $1 earned went! After a few minutes of crying and attempting to argue his point about how he should have "gotten" $2 for cleaning two rooms upstairs, he came up with another strategy. Now, I have to commend my little man, I forsee a high paying career in which he is definitely the boss.

Ben: "Mommy, Daddy said if I clean the downstairs he will give me more money."
Me: "Buddy, Daddy said if you clean the downstairs you can earn more money."
Ben: "Yeah, so I need you to clean the downstairs for me."
Me: "I'm not sure that's how it works, Bud, but nice try! You can clean up if you want the money."

Four years old and he's got the skill of delegation down! I didn't do it for him, nor did he do it...nor did he earn another $1.

Current balance to purchace a "minja" turtle: $1
This may take a while!

I'm Awake!

2014-03-18T14:48:00.000-07:00

It's inevitable, your kids start to become independent, things seem to fall into place, you feel caught up on sleep after what seems like approximately four years of exhaustion...and you think you want another baby. And then you're reminded why life may just be simpler with two...or not.

Ever have one of those nights where it just seems that sleep isn't in the cards? I'm positive that I saw every single hour on our bedroom clock. The dogs bark, I'm awake. Husband snores...I'm awake. Presley visit #1, I'm awake...she just came down stairs to ask if she could be carried back to her bed. Logical. One hour later, Presley visit #2, I'm awake...came downstairs to ask to sleep with me, Adam's turn to get up, but of course I'm STILL awake because:

"MOMMMMMMY!"
"MOOOMMMMMMYYYY!"
"DON'T WANT DADDY...MOMMMMY...."

and on and so forth...

And after that calmed down, we found ourselves asleep yet again..until Presley visit #3, standing next to my bed staring at me holding a bottle of Sunny D (original flavor in case you were wondering) and a cup.

Me: "What on earth are you doing?"
Presley: "Juice."
Me: "No. Why do you have juice?"
Presley: "Want to drink."
Me: "IT IS BEDTIME."
Presley: "Juice."

Another trip up the stairs wasn't happening, I settled for plopping her on the couch. Sounds simple, but it wasn't...in the process of digging through the cupboards, and strategically placing a chair by the cupboards to reach her favorite cup, and then making her way back into my bedroom with a gallon of juice in hand, she lost her blanket. Obviously there is NO WAY for a 2 year old to sleep without her "buddy." It wasn't in her bed, it wasn't in my bed, it wasn't on the couch, and it wasn't by the floor. Mother of the year, right here, left her crying on the couch...eventually she fell back to sleep. And in the morning as I woke up and got myself around for work
, and watched the little precious sound asleep on the couch, I found the "buddy." It was by the fridge, obviously!

And then when you ask her about it this is what she does...

Because I Want To

2014-03-11T16:04:00.000-07:00

Most days I wake up just in time to feel rushed, then I go to work and typically feel rushed, then rush home to pick up the kiddos from daycare, then rush to make dinner, then if we're lucky they get a very rushed letter or number teaching lesson for the night, then some rushed baths...and finally a rush to bed, and if time allows...a quick book or two. After kid bedtime rolls around, it's a rush to get the kitchen cleaned from dinner and the dishwasher started, and then...maybe a favorite TV show or two, then to bed only to begin my very rushed days all over again. In case you're wondering, I have plopped the kids in front of a movie and am rushing through this blog...sometimes TV NEEDS to be a babysitter for my own sanity (I was the perfect parent who swore off TV babysitting...until I actually had children of my own...don't judge.)

So, Why the rush? Because I want to. I wake up in the mornings and WANT to give my kids something other than processed foods for breakfast, so I cook...or prepare the morning meal. I rush home from work most days to pick my kids up...because I WANT to. Daycare from 7 AM-4 PM is plenty long enough for me to feel that my kids are getting too much parenting from people other than myself. Dinner, much like breakfast, is something that I feel is important. Afterall, it is the last "gasoline" they will be putting into their bodies for approximately 12 hours, it should be good gasoline, so my husband and I do our best to "home make" most meals (No, I don't hand roll my pastas or make all of my own sauces...my definition of "homemade" may be different than yours, get over it!) And after dinner, why work on lessons the kids should be learning at school? You guessed it, because I WANT to. I do believe that both of my kids (preschool ages) get wonderful care and education at their daycare center/school, but when they grow up to be Doctors, Lawyers, or the President of the United States, I want to be able to feel proud that I was part of their first class education! And why rush to clean the house...well, to be honest, that was a lie before, that's typically the very last thing that is accomplished in my house...and it's not uncommon to go to bed with a sink of dishes, or a load of laundry that needs to be done...oh well.

Nonetheless, everything else feels like a rush...most of the time because I WANT it to, but sometimes because I'm one of those people that struggle to balance my life priorities. It's difficult to admit that one part of my life isn't as good as the next, or in other words...one part fails in order to excell at another. Perfect mom...crappy wife. Stellar employee...tired mom. Regular gym member...kids "live" at daycare for an extra 1-2 hours. Great teacher to my kids....horrendous housekeeper! I've come to the conclusion that those people on facebook that post all of their excellence are LYING! Focusing on one or two things to perfect in my life is ENOUGH...and I use the term "perfect" very loosely! So, next time you're in the neighborhood, please stop by and join us for a homecooked meal, but don't expect that the table will be free of crumbs when you sit down or the dishes will be washed when we're finished!

A day to remember...

2013-10-21T17:46:00.003-07:00

October 21^st, 2013…a day to remember. My morning began with a quick decision to pull a U-Turn on the highway to reroute to Biggby. I’ve recently fallen in love with the Peppermint Tea Latte, one of my many guilty pleasures. I pull up to the drive-thru…

Me: “Can I have a peppermint tea latte please, grande?”

Biggby girl: “I’m sorry we’re out of mint.”

Me: “Umm, okay, I will have a Salted Carmel latte.”

Biggby girl: “Oh my gosh, we’re completely out of that too.”

Me: “Uh, wow, is this your first day? Umm…I’ll have the…uhhh…Cinnamon Spice latte please.”

Biggby girl: “Oh, I’m sooo sorry, we are out of that too. I’ll make you your drink for free.”

Me: “Mocha latte.”

And then I drive up to the window with a scowl on my face.

Biggby girl: “Sorry for the confusion, did you say peppermint tea latte? We have that. You can have both drinks, no charge.”

And my wonderful day began! My body would be full of artificial flavorings and lots of caffeine, just the way I like it! I arrived at work early (unusual for me) and the door was held for me, the caffeine allowed me to actually get some work done not daydream about a nap all morning, and everyone around me seemed more chipper than usual for a dreary Monday morning. Maybe I was just more chipper, probably the caffeine. Anyway, my day progressed quickly, also unusual in my line of work, and a lunch date was in the works with Mr. Wonderful. Adam had asked me to meet at a locally owned restaurant, purely out of his curiosity regarding the sign out front asking, “Who is John Galt?” But nonetheless, a midday date with my husband is a rarity so I’m always up for good food, good company, and NO KIDS! Lunch went well, Adam told me that he planned on cleaning the house today when he got home…COULD THINGS GET ANY BETTER TODAY? It’s the small things that rock my world! Two free drinks from the coffee shop and my husband cleaning my house? Like I said, a day to remember!

After lunch, I headed back to work. Surprisingly the second half of the day flew by just like the first and I was headed home. As I walked in the door with the kids, the smell of freshly grilled steak put another smile on my face! Dinner was fabulous, the kids actually ate, nobody cried all night, and Mr. Wonderful even set and cleared the table! Anyone thinking twilight zone? The curtains had been taken down throughout the house and washed, not a single kid toy could be seen, laundry was all washed, the sink was empty…I may be dreaming! Eventually, or maybe before dinner, it’s all a bit of a blur (probably still the caffeine) I walked into our bathroom to see our large over the sink mirror so cloudy that I looked like a ghost as I tried to see myself. I asked Adam what had happened to the mirror, I had just cleaned it two days ago.

Adam: “I don’t know, I used your green cleaner and it streaked everything up.”

Me: “My green cleaner? What’s that?”

Adam: “That green cleaner you made.”

So I found the bottle of “green cleaner.” The bottle had some green on it, which must be where the “green cleaner” came from, and yes, I had made the contents…but it was not cleaner, it was fabric refresher. Essentially, homemade Febreze, sprayed all over the counters, sinks, and mirrors! Contents included fabric softener, baking soda, and of course water, nothing too harmful, but definitely not glass cleaner! And…no more twilight zone! Don’t’ worry, my day was still wonderful…he went back and re-washed the mirror, it’s sparkling now!

Excuse me please...

2013-10-14T17:25:00.000-07:00

It was one of those days, one where you hope that your children (and husband) come down with a sudden allergic reaction to the cat only so you can give them Benadryl and not feel guilty about it. A nice little nap for everyone else in the family would have done mommy a little good. I realize that sometimes it’s just not in the stars to have any time for myself, but a little time to clean the kitchen or wipe down the bathroom sinks would have been great. Our day started a little late when after a late breakfast, Adam decided that 11:30 AM would be a great time to begin our regular Sunday journey to Menards. I warned him…I pleaded with him…”Maybe we should wait until after lunch and naps to go to the store? I knew pulling the kids out of their normal routine of lunch at noon then naps to follow was a perfect recipe for a disastrous trip to town. You may be wondering about Adam’s response to my plea…. “I’m sick of planning our lives around the kids’ schedules. We can go now.” I tried to be positive, and out the door we went.

Needless to say, our trip was horrendous. Portions of this trip included Adam and I splitting up in the store, each with a kid in tow, racing through the store to get everything that was on the list that I had lost somewhere during the time I had to run back to the car to get a towel to clean Ben and Presley off after they spilled their drink all over themselves in the cart. Oh, and a fabulous trip to the public restroom only to find that we were a few skidmarks too late and Benji’s Superhero themed underwear had to be taken off and stored in a spare pocket inside my purse. (I remember when my purses didn’t have pockets…miss this!) After our necessities were paid for, we raced home…the speed limit is 55?

We tried to feed the kiddos a late lunch, unsuccessful. Presley screamed, cried, exactly what 2 year olds do when they are BEYOND tired. While Adam fell asleep on the couch, Benji filled up on some lunch, I tried to calm Presley. Keep in mind I have no patience left and if it was acceptable I would have locked myself inside my imaginary soundproof bedroom and watched Keeping up with the Kardashian’s for the rest of the day…alone. I hear this isn’t acceptable as a parent…so I trudged on. I changed Presley, carried her up the stairs and began to sing her sleep time song (Twinke Twinkle Little Star)…and then it happened. I felt something under my foot. I lifted up my foot, still singing, and looked at the human feces that was smeared all over the bottom of my foot and the carpet of her bedroom. OMG! So, that’s why she came downstairs this morning carrying her diaper. She took it off to poop on her floor, and for me to step in. I think this was premeditated.

Excuse me please, for I need to go wash the poop off of my foot.

Thanks Dad

2013-09-24T18:19:00.001-07:00

Thanks Dad. Thanks for never taking a day off work. Thanks for making me proud of our last name. Thanks for the road trips. Thanks for teaching me how to play shortstop. Thanks for being so critical of my driving. Thanks for letting me ride on the back of your motorcycle and thanks for teaching me how to ride my own motorcycle. Thanks for taking me to work with you on ‘Take your Child to work day.” Thanks for the many lectures of clouds types and evaporation. Thanks for saying, “You look beautiful” on the night you escorted me for homecoming court. Thanks for loving my mom.

While at work recently, I met with a child and asked all sorts of questions about his home life, school life, and listened while this bright young man talked. My meetings with young children always end with me saying, “I’ve asked you a lot of questions and listened to everything you wanted to say, now do you have any questions that you would like to ask me?” Usually the kids say “no” and the meeting ends shortly after, however this young man answered “Yes.” He asked me a question that tugged on my heartstrings and has left me consumed with the thought of how lucky I have been throughout my entire life. He asked, “Did you grow up with a Dad in your house?” Of course, my rules during these meetings with children are that we can only talk about the truth, so I answered honestly, “Yes, I did.” And then, while looking down at his shoes, he asked, “Was it fun?” Again, I answered, “Yes, it was.” And the meeting was ended. Just two simple questions from a 9 year old and my thoughts have been consumed by those few simple words. He was one of those children that was smart enough to know what he had missed out on, and even smarter to not dig deeper about what he has missed.

The questions made me want to go hug my dad, however we’re not what you would call a “huggy” family. The questions also made me think about how many children grow up without a father in their homes, and how many children grow up without ever speaking to their father. It seems that my “normal” of being raised in a family with two parents who were married to each other and two older brothers who watched out for me, and a family that still loves each one another is not so normal anymore.

So, Dad, thanks for “normal.” Thanks for mowing my lawn every week. Thanks for buying me a crappy little S-10 that I fell in love with when I was 16. Thanks for rescuing me every time I run out of gas. Thanks for buying me pot-bellied pigs when I was in third grade. Thanks for taking such good care of your parents in their old age. Thanks for being such a good Grandpa to my kids. Thanks for bonding with my husband over a beer, nap, and baseball game in your living room every Sunday. Thanks for being my Dad.

Supervising wood cutting
Spring 2013

Who's Your Favorite?

2013-09-21T17:37:00.004-07:00

Yesterday was great, Adam and I got home from work and we had no obligations, no plans, just a night in with the kids. We had a wonderful meal of leftovers that the kids shoved around on their plates for 15 minutes and then we read a few books after dinner. Adam and the kids wrestled, and then we sat on the couch to relax before the kid’s bedtime. We watched tv, the kids played, it really felt like one of those evenings that we will think about some evening when Adam and I become “empty-nesters.”

Now if any of you know my husband, you would know that EVERYTHING is a competition…and if you know me, you would know that I always win those competitions! Adam enjoys torturing our children by asking them who their “favorite” is and then tickling them until they are gasping for air when the much predicted answer of “mommy” leaves their sweet little lips. Whether they enjoy being tickled or not, it’s obvious who their favorite is…always mommy, a little something that I love more than anything in the world, and another sure fire win in the scorebook of Adam and Jody’s competitions! Well, I have to say that I was a little shocked when the answer was NOT “mommy” last night.

Adam: “Presley, who’s your favorite?”

Presley: “Mommy!”

Adam: “Ben, who is your favorite?”

Ben: “Bob Seger.”

Really? Bob Seger? He’s started preschool, he’s a big kid now, he worries about being cool in front of his friends, he can write his name by himself…and Bob Seger is his favorite. My lil boy is growing up and I’m not sure that I’m ready for this! Today Benji was invited to go to a football game with a friend, and then I received a text message from the friend’s mother saying, “Ben doesn’t want to come home yet, can he spend the night?” His first sleep-over! He has leg hair and he FINALLY wipes his own butt. He’s practically a man! As hard as it is, I know that he has to grow up and I have to allow that to occur naturally. At least I still have my lil girl, and I’m definitely still her favorite…for a few more years!

Presley and I got to spend the day together recently, she has no idea who Bob Seger is and I intend to
keep it that way for a little while longer!

It's been a while...here's an update

2013-09-18T18:01:00.000-07:00

It’s been a while, a long while, but my excuse is that my job sucks the life out of me, and then I have to use my reserve fuel tank (often a caffeinated vitamin or a double shot latte) to get through the evenings with my children who never seem to be tired. I think Ben may be a vampire, however this isn’t yet confirmed, he never sleeps. Lately I’ve caught him awake in his bedroom with the lights on packing numerous backpacks for school, emptying his dresser only to find the one pair of pants that is two years too short for him to wear to school the next day. Apparently he loves preschool, he lets me put his pajamas on him after his shower and then after I put him to bed he gets dressed for the next day. Then there’s Presley, who is lately on a “OMG I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT MOMMY HOLDING ME ON HER EVER-GROWING HIPS AND I’M GOING TO SCREAM AND CRY IF SHE PUTS ME DOWN” phase. Trust me, it’s easier to hold her! I know what you’re thinking…stop judging! So, yes, my children are WONDERFUL!

I’ve been keeping myself busy this summer with a wonderful garden that produced plenty of food for the raccoons and my family to share, especially since the children would prefer ground up eyeballs, pig tails, and hooves (in the form of a hot dog) to a nice meal of squash, green beans, or potatoes. Ben enjoyed “helping” me in the garden, I’m quite sure that several carrots, green beans, and watermelon were lost to his feet, but it was fun nonetheless. Presley spent much of her time in the evenings while I gardened sitting in the grass screaming because she wasn’t being held. She’s such a princess.

Also this summer I’ve been training for a half-marathon. Don’t pretend to be impressed, the majority of my training has included pushing a running stroller with Princess Presley riding along and Benji riding his bicycle next to me. You can imagine that I did not get very far…ever…especially anywhere close to 13.1 miles! So, the race is this coming weekend, and I’ve logged about 6 miles in the 6 weeks or so that I’ve been training, I feel so accomplished.

Softball season was officially ended without any bloodshed between my wonderfully once in shape but now all he does is pushups husband and myself. He says it was the last year of our summers being occupied with fastpitch softball, but I don’t believe that he’s ready to give it up and join a golf league quite yet.

Now that Benji is in preschool and Princess Presley is starting to talk, I hope to have some great stories to share. I apologize for the long absence, I miss writing every day, but I feel that rest is probably much healthier than the dose of caffeine that would be needed to bust out a 500 word story!

The Jiggle

2013-07-02T19:01:00.002-07:00

Yes, I’m that parent who allows my three year old son to pee outside…and yes, sometimes this occurs in public as he’s not quite learned that dropping your pants to your ankles so everyone can see your bare butt is embarrassing. I just wanted to start off with that disclaimer so nobody was shocked or appalled with the following. So tonight, while at a softball game for my niece, Benji shouts out from the top of the bleachers where he was climbing, “I gotta go potty!” The question that always follows this by any parent after scanning the property for a bathroom and not finding one is, “pee or poop?” I should state that there was a porta-potty, however I have a very serious phobia of those things and avoid them like the plague. Anyway, I was relieved to hear him answer pee, we quickly ran across the street and hid behind a truck and peed into the weeds…and when I say we, I mean Ben urinated in the weeds, not me! He peed, and peed, and peed some more, I was not aware that his bladder could hold a gallon and a half of liquid, but apparently, it can. So after Benji was finished taking care of business he just stood there, keep in mind he’s almost 4, I shouldn’t have to remind him to pull his pants up, but I did anyway.

Me: “Let’s go bud, pull your pants up.”

Ben: “I am”

Me: “No you’re not, you’re just standing there, let’s go!”

Ben: (after a few more seconds of standing half-nude then finally pulling his pants up) “I was waiting for the jiggle. I always wait for the jiggle then I can pull my pants up.”

And then he demonstrated “the jiggle” which appeared to be a full body twitch that apparently all men have when finished taking care of business. The discussion about the jiggle was so nonchalant, I had no idea how to respond, so I didn’t, just smiled and then of course ran to tell my own mom about it! It never fails, as soon as I start to think that I’ve got this parenting thing under control, a statement jumps out of Benji’s mouth that makes me question how I’m ever going to raise a boy! It also seems like statements like this always happen when daddy isn’t present. I’m quite positive that Adam would have had the perfect response to “the jiggle.”

It Won't Work...

2013-06-17T18:25:00.000-07:00

My goals for the evening:

1. Feed my kids something that isn’t pre-packaged.

2. Vacuum the living room.

3. Fold the laundry.

Adam successfully took care of goal 1! Dinner finished, kids in bed, I make two trips through the entire house and come to the realization that a burglar has broken in and taken the vacuum cleaner. It’s gone, forever. I’ll file the insurance claim for that a little later. And goal 3, well…I just sent a text message to my niece telling her that there’s $25 in the pot if she wants to clean my house…and she’s in! So, the way I see it, all of the goals will be met….tomorrow! As for my writing, I haven’t done it in a very long time as my mind has been preoccupied, but I’m ready tonight…I think. Here’s my story…

As some of you have read before, many of my summer weekends are occupied at the ballpark “supporting” my husband. Now, before the kids, these games and ball tournaments were a great time as it wasn’t uncommon for me to be lounging in the outfield with an icy adult beverage in my hand watching my husband hit homeruns and gossiping with the other girlfriends about who was getting married next or who would be the first to be pregnant. But in recent years we’ve all had babies and we’re all married…and now we tell stories about who’s kid pooped in the potty and what the best diaper rash cream is. So, here’s my poop story.

We’re on our way home from what seemed like a very long weekend and Adam and I were positive that Benji and Presley would sleep the entire way home providing a nice quiet break for the adults in the car. Well, Benji was asleep in the car before we could even get his seat belt buckled, and Presley…well, she just screamed the whole way home…”Mom, Daddy…Mommy…Daddy…Mom, Mom, Mom….MOMMY…” But about 25 minutes into our trek home, Benji wakes out of a dead sleep screaming, “My butt hurts, MY BUTT HURTS.” After a series of questions it was determined that he had to poop, bad. We have struggled with this child for a very long time, he does not like to poop and gets very upset with his butt when it does poop (I don’t understand, don’t ask), so when he tells us that he has to go, we’re on it like white on rice! Adam pulled off the side of the road, the action was going to have to take place in the weeds, we were on some back country roads with no gas stations in sight. It was a no go, nothing, darn butt. We buckle back in, begin to drive and then….again, it hurts, “IT’S COMING OUT.” So, again, we pull off the side of the road, I go to retrieve Benji out of the car, Adam digs through the trunk for wipes…and then he says it, “I HATE MY BUTTTTTT!!!.” “IT WON’T WORK, IT’S NOT COMING OUT, I DON’T WANT MY BUTT ANYMORE.” And I finally figured it out, this is why potty training has been such a struggle, his butt is defective, it will not work, and he doesn’t want that butt anymore. We’ll be on the hunt for a new butt soon, I hope we can find one that is a little more cooperative, sure would make this potty training thing a little less stressful.

I got a 'prise for you...

2013-05-07T13:26:00.002-07:00

My Monday morning started off with a crying 3 year old not wanting his mommy to go to work. He did not want to go to school, he did not want daddy to stop at the store and give him a chocolate pop-tart, and he definitely did not want me to go to work. Let me tell you, it’s never a great start to the day when you already feel guilty about something before 8 AM.

Around 10:00 AM I sat and listened as an upset single mother pour out her guilt to me about not having enough time to spend with her kids because of the responsible decision she’s made to work full-time to financially support her family. I assured this woman that later in their lives her kids would appreciate the fact that they had a responsible mother who worked hard to support the family singlehandedly. As the words were coming out of my mouth, it almost felt like a lie. As a child, I had the best of both worlds, my mother was a school teacher so she had three full months off with me each year, Christmas vacation, spring break, everything, yet I was still able to see her work very hard in a full-time position to provide for the family. Not all children have school teachers as parents and I often feel like my kiddos are being raised by our daycare provider. Luckily she is amazing and is more of a grandmotherly figure than a daycare provider, and the small bits of time that I do get to spend with my children is very much quality time, however I still feel guilty about the lack of physical time that I have with my family. Working outside the home is however a conscious decision that I’ve made, honestly I think I may go stir crazy if I were a stay a home mother. Bless the women that are patient enough to make this their job, many times it is easier for me Monday-Friday to go to work than the weekends that I have my children for 48 hours straight!

Once again on this day, I was reminded of the conscious decision that I’ve made to work outside of the home and the impact that it has on my kids. It was nearing 8:00 PM and here’s what happened:

Me: “Benji, go brush your teeth and go potty, it’s almost bedtime.”

Benji: “Okay.”

Benji: (after racing back into the living room with his hand behind his back) “I have a ‘prise for you!!!”

Me: “Ooooohh, what is my surprise?”

Benji: “You don’t have to go to work anymore!” (And then he pulled a $5 bill out from behind his back.) “Money! Now you don’t have to go to work to buy money.”

And then I gave my lil man a huge hug and thanked him so much. Adam witnessed this and was a little upset that Ben had found his $5 bill on the sink in the bathroom and watched it disappear into my pocket (where it still resides.) I proceeded to explain to Ben that I really appreciated the money, but that I still had to go to work. I also told lil man that if I could stay home all day, every day and have fun with him and Presley that I would. He had been so proud of his findings that he once again disappeared and returned shortly with a handful of change to give to Adam. So once again, my child has brought me to doubting one of my very important life decisions of working outside the home. I fully intend to remain in the workforce outside the home, but I do sure as hell wish that $5 would get me as far in life is a 3 year old believes it can!