My life isn't always cheerful and humorous. I spend the majority of my time doing the same tasks over and over again. I am tired a larger part of the time. There are days where I whine all the way from the top of the stairs with my mammoth basket of dirty clothes down into the laundry room. Every once in a while I burst into unexpected tears (like when I change Max's sheets in the morning and notice after his nap that he dumped his sippy all over the crib mattress and I have to change the sheets AGAIN) or yell at no one in particular just to get my frustration out.
It is hard to remain calm. That moment when your tiny little sweet toddler throws a tantrum which results in food all over the kitchen walls, floor and ceiling.
It is hard to be a good role model. That time your elementary school child caught the attitude bug and you heard yourself in her snippy tone.
It is hard to be selfless. In the dead of the night you hear your baby crying. Stumble over the oblivious husband and go see what's the matter. Spend the next hour and a half calming baby down.
It is hard to smile sometimes. Your child is super excited about... oh God, I don't know, is that a book or something? You just wanted to finish paying the bills online. Not happening now. Take a break and listen.
It is hard to be patient. Your meal, which is always made last, has to sit on the counter getting cold while you give your infant an emergency bath after his diaper explosion.
While there are limitless obstacles in this race, it is impossible to regret my career choice: Mom. No matter what the crazy, insane circumstance is, I still LOVE my husband, my kids and my life. I might bite my nails with anxiety over the bills or cry while I scoop buckets of water off the bathroom floor, but this is worth it.
My baby woke up now and is crying upstairs, so I have to go. :)
It's definitely worth it.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
This one's for you, kids
I want to remember these precious moments:
Carrying you downstairs in the basket of laundry (Maximus)
You saying, "I like your butt Mom." (Hailley)
You saying, "Thank you for today Mom." (Swaylynn)
How you style your hair yourself and I let you go to school like that, even if it's a little "different" (Swaylynn)
How you took 3 steps towards your family and clapped along with us for your achievement (Maximus)
How proud Daddy is that his little boy is obsessed with all things electrical (Maximus)
When you and I giggled hysterically while reading The Big Sister Book: I was laughing because you knew all the words and were saying them with such excitement, and you were laughing because I was (Hailley)
The day you were overtired and kept wandering around the house saying, "I'm down in the dumps today!" (Swaylynn)
How you follow your sister around like she is the greatest person on the face of this earth (Hailley)
Since you heard me say it, now you randomly say, "Thank you God!" (Hailley)
The way your little face scrunches up and bursts into tears when you think I'm leaving (Maximus)
Every time Grandma Deb leaves, you rush over to her demanding hugs and kisses, then you say, "BYE! LOVE YOU! THANKS FOR COMING! BYE! LOVE YOU! SEE YOU LATER! BYE GRANDMA!" (Hailley)
How I am pretty sure you are a writing prodigy but I'm afraid to brag and make the other moms feel bad (Swaylynn)
The day that my old friend died and I was so sad, you went down to the furniture shop in town (of all places kid!) and got me three little star decorations in red, white and blue to remember her by (Swaylynn)
How you get into my Tupperware cupboard and when I attempt to shoo you away, you get this gleam in your eye and a little crooked smile that apparently you already know works on the ladies (Maximus)
How sometimes you crawl on your knees and other times you crawl using your toes (Maximus)
The way you curl up next to me with your blanket on the couch saying, "I want to snuggle with you Mom." (Hailley)
The way you lounge around reading Goosebump books instead of pestering me to play video games (Swaylynn)
I love each one of you SOO much! You are so different from each other and so fantastically amazing in your own way. I thank God every day that you are mine for a while on this earth. I can't wait to see what you grow up to be.
Love always and forever,
Mom
Carrying you downstairs in the basket of laundry (Maximus)
You saying, "I like your butt Mom." (Hailley)
You saying, "Thank you for today Mom." (Swaylynn)
How you style your hair yourself and I let you go to school like that, even if it's a little "different" (Swaylynn)
How you took 3 steps towards your family and clapped along with us for your achievement (Maximus)
How proud Daddy is that his little boy is obsessed with all things electrical (Maximus)
When you and I giggled hysterically while reading The Big Sister Book: I was laughing because you knew all the words and were saying them with such excitement, and you were laughing because I was (Hailley)
The day you were overtired and kept wandering around the house saying, "I'm down in the dumps today!" (Swaylynn)
How you follow your sister around like she is the greatest person on the face of this earth (Hailley)
Since you heard me say it, now you randomly say, "Thank you God!" (Hailley)
The way your little face scrunches up and bursts into tears when you think I'm leaving (Maximus)
Every time Grandma Deb leaves, you rush over to her demanding hugs and kisses, then you say, "BYE! LOVE YOU! THANKS FOR COMING! BYE! LOVE YOU! SEE YOU LATER! BYE GRANDMA!" (Hailley)
How I am pretty sure you are a writing prodigy but I'm afraid to brag and make the other moms feel bad (Swaylynn)
The day that my old friend died and I was so sad, you went down to the furniture shop in town (of all places kid!) and got me three little star decorations in red, white and blue to remember her by (Swaylynn)
How you get into my Tupperware cupboard and when I attempt to shoo you away, you get this gleam in your eye and a little crooked smile that apparently you already know works on the ladies (Maximus)
How sometimes you crawl on your knees and other times you crawl using your toes (Maximus)
The way you curl up next to me with your blanket on the couch saying, "I want to snuggle with you Mom." (Hailley)
The way you lounge around reading Goosebump books instead of pestering me to play video games (Swaylynn)
I love each one of you SOO much! You are so different from each other and so fantastically amazing in your own way. I thank God every day that you are mine for a while on this earth. I can't wait to see what you grow up to be.
Love always and forever,
Mom
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Out of Babes' Mouths
One of the saddest ordeals with babies is the inevitable diaper rash. I have worked tirelessly to avoid this painful occurrence, but every once in a while my success streak is broken with a rough outbreak of the red tush.
So is the case with my son recently. I'm not sure which one of us has cried more over the matter. Desitin flows freely, and the air is tainted with the ever-present scent of baby powder. My heart breaks because I can't wash his pain away with one of his Pampers baby wipes.
While his rash is getting better, it's not improving fast enough for me. My attempt to fix his poor butt faster inspired me to leave Maximus's tushie free from diapers today (for as long as I can handle it!) Hailley, my two-year old, and I chose a nice warm long sleeve shirt for him and let the rest hang free (if you are picking up what I'm putting down here).
Hailley was quite amused by Max's attire. She kept repeating, "Look at his butt Mom! Look at his butt!" Yes dear, it is indeed a butt. Rare thing in these here parts. All parents know though that when it comes to conversing with a toddler, especially one that talks all day long, one of the best responses to remarks such as these is "Yes dear". Keep it simple and save yourself from having a ten minute conversation about cheese or something when you could have been finishing your chores early. I continue picking up the baby room as I mumble yes dears to Hailley.
Finally I catch the comment I was waiting for. I hear my daughter say "awwww, look at his little tail!"
So is the case with my son recently. I'm not sure which one of us has cried more over the matter. Desitin flows freely, and the air is tainted with the ever-present scent of baby powder. My heart breaks because I can't wash his pain away with one of his Pampers baby wipes.
While his rash is getting better, it's not improving fast enough for me. My attempt to fix his poor butt faster inspired me to leave Maximus's tushie free from diapers today (for as long as I can handle it!) Hailley, my two-year old, and I chose a nice warm long sleeve shirt for him and let the rest hang free (if you are picking up what I'm putting down here).
Hailley was quite amused by Max's attire. She kept repeating, "Look at his butt Mom! Look at his butt!" Yes dear, it is indeed a butt. Rare thing in these here parts. All parents know though that when it comes to conversing with a toddler, especially one that talks all day long, one of the best responses to remarks such as these is "Yes dear". Keep it simple and save yourself from having a ten minute conversation about cheese or something when you could have been finishing your chores early. I continue picking up the baby room as I mumble yes dears to Hailley.
Finally I catch the comment I was waiting for. I hear my daughter say "awwww, look at his little tail!"
Friday, October 5, 2012
Naptime...?
Naptime. That glorious period during the day where my house is kind of clean and totally quiet. I can watch TV that doesn't have catchy jingles about counting to ten. I can read books that are not full of pictures. I can fold clothes without having a child rip the piles off the bed. Yes! I love naps!
Hailley, my two year old, does not feel the same as I do about this period of the day (or nighttime for that matter). She cries, she begs, she throws herself down on the floor and writhes around like a dog rolling all over a dead animal. I am not a woman to be deterred by this behavior though, and so every day around noon she gets a nap. I am willing to compromise with Hailley however. I will leave the door open if she promises to stay in her room and go to sleep.
My plan backfired. Miserably.
I put Maximus in his little crib, kissed him, and left the door open a crack. I led Hailley into her room, kissed her, and told her that after she sleeps, we will get up and play again. I left the door open to pacify her.
I went downstairs. I planned on taking a nap myself, a rare and magnificent concept. I crawled into my bed and dozed off into a beautiful, poop-free dream world.
Thirty minutes later, I heard Maximus crying.
I tried to ignore him. Surely he will drift off to sleep again.
Nope.
I dragged myself out of bed and went upstairs to see what his deal was. I figured he must have a dirty diaper, or he was scared, or..
his sister was sitting in his crib with him.
She laughed when she saw me, as though I had said a great joke she would have to remember and tell others later. How the he** did she climb in there?? I pulled her out and set her on the floor. Hailley was thrilled at her adventure; she kept giggling and telling me that she was "in his crib, Mom!"
Needless to say, naptime had failed. Both kids were wide awake, which required me to stay awake too. I shook the air of discontentment off my shoulders and scooped up Maximus. Hailley chattered at my knees as we headed towards the stairs.
"I want to get up now Mom." I'm sure you do honey.
Hailley: 2 Mom: 0
Hailley, my two year old, does not feel the same as I do about this period of the day (or nighttime for that matter). She cries, she begs, she throws herself down on the floor and writhes around like a dog rolling all over a dead animal. I am not a woman to be deterred by this behavior though, and so every day around noon she gets a nap. I am willing to compromise with Hailley however. I will leave the door open if she promises to stay in her room and go to sleep.
My plan backfired. Miserably.
I put Maximus in his little crib, kissed him, and left the door open a crack. I led Hailley into her room, kissed her, and told her that after she sleeps, we will get up and play again. I left the door open to pacify her.
I went downstairs. I planned on taking a nap myself, a rare and magnificent concept. I crawled into my bed and dozed off into a beautiful, poop-free dream world.
Thirty minutes later, I heard Maximus crying.
I tried to ignore him. Surely he will drift off to sleep again.
Nope.
I dragged myself out of bed and went upstairs to see what his deal was. I figured he must have a dirty diaper, or he was scared, or..
his sister was sitting in his crib with him.
She laughed when she saw me, as though I had said a great joke she would have to remember and tell others later. How the he** did she climb in there?? I pulled her out and set her on the floor. Hailley was thrilled at her adventure; she kept giggling and telling me that she was "in his crib, Mom!"
Needless to say, naptime had failed. Both kids were wide awake, which required me to stay awake too. I shook the air of discontentment off my shoulders and scooped up Maximus. Hailley chattered at my knees as we headed towards the stairs.
"I want to get up now Mom." I'm sure you do honey.
Hailley: 2 Mom: 0
Thursday, September 27, 2012
10 Ways to Win an Argument With a 2 Year Old
1. Fake an injury. She will forget about that snack she has been begging for (after refusing breakfast!) and become concerned over your "owie".
2. Imitate him. He will be shocked by your atrocious behavior and hopefully move on to another subject.
3. Keep agreeing with her, but don't follow through with your agreement. The clash of your actions versus your words will mystify her little mind, and before you know it: what Dora show?
4. Offer an off-limits item as a truce. "I will let you play with Daddy's wallet if you stop bothering me..."
5. Hide in the bathroom until the argument blows over. Mommy just needs a little privacy, okay honey?
6. Threaten a nap if that isn't already the subject of your fight with him. Hey, us parents only have a few aces in the hole. Sometimes we have to use them.
7. Run in the other direction. No matter how out of shape you are, her little legs are no match for yours.
8. Pretend to be asleep. Can you believe kids actually fall for that stunt?
9. Offer Mountain Dew, Red Bull, Shocktarts, Betty Crocker's double fudge chocolate cake, Double Bubble, Snickers...whatever throws him off the scent of that new Elmo he's begging you to purchase.
10. Give in to her demands. Is this really worth you missing your show?
***DISCLAIMER: All above comments are for comedic purposes only and do not reflect the views or actions of this blogger.***
2. Imitate him. He will be shocked by your atrocious behavior and hopefully move on to another subject.
3. Keep agreeing with her, but don't follow through with your agreement. The clash of your actions versus your words will mystify her little mind, and before you know it: what Dora show?
4. Offer an off-limits item as a truce. "I will let you play with Daddy's wallet if you stop bothering me..."
5. Hide in the bathroom until the argument blows over. Mommy just needs a little privacy, okay honey?
6. Threaten a nap if that isn't already the subject of your fight with him. Hey, us parents only have a few aces in the hole. Sometimes we have to use them.
7. Run in the other direction. No matter how out of shape you are, her little legs are no match for yours.
8. Pretend to be asleep. Can you believe kids actually fall for that stunt?
9. Offer Mountain Dew, Red Bull, Shocktarts, Betty Crocker's double fudge chocolate cake, Double Bubble, Snickers...whatever throws him off the scent of that new Elmo he's begging you to purchase.
10. Give in to her demands. Is this really worth you missing your show?
***DISCLAIMER: All above comments are for comedic purposes only and do not reflect the views or actions of this blogger.***
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Just when I thought...
I went away for the weekend with my girl friends. It was wonderful; we enjoyed a child-free, carefree weekend together. I slept in! I sat in a hot tub! I shopped for myself! (Kind of.) I left my two younger children; Maximus, now 10 months, and Hailley, 2 1/2, in the care of my husband during this time.
Now I trust my husband completely. I was slightly worried about the state of the house upon my return, but I was pretty sure my kids were in capable hands. When I came home Sunday afternoon everything seemed pretty good to me. The kitchen looked like it had never seen a dishrag, every possible plate and silverware piece we own was unclean and the dog bowls were bone dry, but I can settle for that.
I asked Blake, my wonderful husband, how his weekend was.
"Great!" He responded cheerfully. The kids were bathed and napping he told me. He relayed his weekend activities and I divulged mine, and then we resumed our lives.
The next day I was giving my son a morning bath and I noticed that the caps to both the baby shampoo and the baby wash were closed. This may not sound abnormal to you, but it struck me as odd because Blake is incapable of shutting any lid, ever. He leaves open ketchup tops, water bottle tops, baby wipes, cupboards, etc. You name it, he leaves it open. Well that is sweet of him, I thought. He actually remembered to close two lids!
I was wrong. I ignored my instincts. I went against my intuition in defense of my husband, the father of my children, the love of my life. I hoped he closed those lids.
The day after my suspicious observation, I noticed what lid Blake had left open in the bathroom: the lid for the dog shampoo.
Now I trust my husband completely. I was slightly worried about the state of the house upon my return, but I was pretty sure my kids were in capable hands. When I came home Sunday afternoon everything seemed pretty good to me. The kitchen looked like it had never seen a dishrag, every possible plate and silverware piece we own was unclean and the dog bowls were bone dry, but I can settle for that.
I asked Blake, my wonderful husband, how his weekend was.
"Great!" He responded cheerfully. The kids were bathed and napping he told me. He relayed his weekend activities and I divulged mine, and then we resumed our lives.
The next day I was giving my son a morning bath and I noticed that the caps to both the baby shampoo and the baby wash were closed. This may not sound abnormal to you, but it struck me as odd because Blake is incapable of shutting any lid, ever. He leaves open ketchup tops, water bottle tops, baby wipes, cupboards, etc. You name it, he leaves it open. Well that is sweet of him, I thought. He actually remembered to close two lids!
I was wrong. I ignored my instincts. I went against my intuition in defense of my husband, the father of my children, the love of my life. I hoped he closed those lids.
The day after my suspicious observation, I noticed what lid Blake had left open in the bathroom: the lid for the dog shampoo.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Praise for Mommy
I had her trained. I had Hailley going to the bathroom all on her own. It was marvelous, stupendous, thrilling! She was performing beautifully: going, wiping, emptying the potty, the whole works. And then.. Hailley had a toddler moment, and realized that she didn't want to continue going potty in her little princess potty chair.
It all went downhill from that moment. My husband Blake and I quickly learned that we couldn't make her go, and so therefore potty time became optional for Hailley. For her that meant she was not going to go anymore at all. This was a devastating backslide for the person who had to change her (ME!) but what could I do?
I decided to invite her into the bathroom when I needed to use it, just to see if she would regain her interest and excitement over being "a big girl". What, you may ask, were the results of this action? Hailley praised me for going potty. She cheered me on, examined the toilet to see what I did, and even gave me high fives for my achievements!
I couldn't believe it. I suppose I can at least be grateful she knows that using the toilet is a good thing, and I know she will be using one herself before she starts preschool.
Hailley: 1 Mommy: 0
It all went downhill from that moment. My husband Blake and I quickly learned that we couldn't make her go, and so therefore potty time became optional for Hailley. For her that meant she was not going to go anymore at all. This was a devastating backslide for the person who had to change her (ME!) but what could I do?
I decided to invite her into the bathroom when I needed to use it, just to see if she would regain her interest and excitement over being "a big girl". What, you may ask, were the results of this action? Hailley praised me for going potty. She cheered me on, examined the toilet to see what I did, and even gave me high fives for my achievements!
I couldn't believe it. I suppose I can at least be grateful she knows that using the toilet is a good thing, and I know she will be using one herself before she starts preschool.
Hailley: 1 Mommy: 0
Thursday, April 19, 2012
I'm a Genius! and a Bad Influence
Have I mentioned that Hailley is not a morning person? Each and every dayspring I am greeted with tears, wails and the best word on earth, "NNNNOOOOOOO!" (insert sarcasm here) This morning Hailley woke me up at 6:45 a.m. screaming in her room. Was she sick? Nooo! Was she hurt? Nooo! Was she scared? Nooo! Hailley was awake, and it was morning.
I am tired of the sunrise tantrums. I want to wake up like Cinderella, with birds singing around me (and making my bed), warm sun shining on my face, and a hot bath and clean clothes (complete with ribbons) to slip into. Hailley is quite effectively ruining my morning fantasies. She would be Lucifer the cat, eating my birds, in the Disney classic. So I made the executive decision that I would not allow her attitude to affect mine. I want my day to start nice, and darn it if I am going to let a whiny toddler set fire to my desires.
I have to figure out how to get my attitude to change hers. So far it's been a bust. But this morning..
When Hailley started her usual meltdown at the ripe hour of 7 a.m., I decided to feed her marshmallows. Yes that's what I wrote, marshmallows. Big fat ones that plugged up her angry beautiful little mouth and turned her frown upside down!
Now we are both smiling, and I know why parents feed their kids that sugary crap at breakfast time. Needless to say I can't keep doing this, but today my birds feel it's safe to come out. I left my bed unmade if any feathered friends make their way in there.
I am tired of the sunrise tantrums. I want to wake up like Cinderella, with birds singing around me (and making my bed), warm sun shining on my face, and a hot bath and clean clothes (complete with ribbons) to slip into. Hailley is quite effectively ruining my morning fantasies. She would be Lucifer the cat, eating my birds, in the Disney classic. So I made the executive decision that I would not allow her attitude to affect mine. I want my day to start nice, and darn it if I am going to let a whiny toddler set fire to my desires.
I have to figure out how to get my attitude to change hers. So far it's been a bust. But this morning..
When Hailley started her usual meltdown at the ripe hour of 7 a.m., I decided to feed her marshmallows. Yes that's what I wrote, marshmallows. Big fat ones that plugged up her angry beautiful little mouth and turned her frown upside down!
Now we are both smiling, and I know why parents feed their kids that sugary crap at breakfast time. Needless to say I can't keep doing this, but today my birds feel it's safe to come out. I left my bed unmade if any feathered friends make their way in there.
Friday, April 13, 2012
My Bloomin Baby Boy
Maximus, my five month-old son, is crawling. Okay, fine, so its scooting, technically, but either way, he's on the move! I am so grateful that I get to see his first moves; I worked when both of my daughters were infants, so I didn't get to experience the joy that comes with actually catching "the firsts".
Boy, oh boy, is he moving fast though! I mean in his progression. Just a couple of weeks ago (I have April 1st on the calendar as the first time he scooted) he reached for a toy and then pushed himself forward on his elbows to get it. Yesterday Max had to be removed from under the table where he was trying to investigate some cords. I had set him down in the middle of the floor, so he traveled about 4 1/2 feet in the less than two minutes I averted my eyes. Where's the fire buddy?
This morning, he was so wriggly that I couldn't finish changing him on the changing table. He kept rolling over! I moved him to the floor and found myself trying to button his onesie while he was on his stomach scooting away from me. Really?
I thought I had more time with a cuddly newborn! I guess not. I keep thinking, if this is what he is like now, what is he going to be doing in two, three months? When he is a year old? Heaven help us.
(Quick prayer to God: Father, please watch over my wild little boy, and give me the patience and skill to deal with his future shenanigans.)
Boy, oh boy, is he moving fast though! I mean in his progression. Just a couple of weeks ago (I have April 1st on the calendar as the first time he scooted) he reached for a toy and then pushed himself forward on his elbows to get it. Yesterday Max had to be removed from under the table where he was trying to investigate some cords. I had set him down in the middle of the floor, so he traveled about 4 1/2 feet in the less than two minutes I averted my eyes. Where's the fire buddy?
This morning, he was so wriggly that I couldn't finish changing him on the changing table. He kept rolling over! I moved him to the floor and found myself trying to button his onesie while he was on his stomach scooting away from me. Really?
I thought I had more time with a cuddly newborn! I guess not. I keep thinking, if this is what he is like now, what is he going to be doing in two, three months? When he is a year old? Heaven help us.
(Quick prayer to God: Father, please watch over my wild little boy, and give me the patience and skill to deal with his future shenanigans.)
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
...Really?
I had the three kids in the car and we were running an errand. All was going well so far- I even stopped at the gas station and got everyone treats.
When we got to our destination I got the bulky double stroller out of the trunk and went around to the side of the car, to remove my 2 year old daughter from her car seat. I opened the door. There she sat, squeezing her entire juice drink out into her lap.
*Sigh*
Love means not minding the sticky mess.
When we got to our destination I got the bulky double stroller out of the trunk and went around to the side of the car, to remove my 2 year old daughter from her car seat. I opened the door. There she sat, squeezing her entire juice drink out into her lap.
*Sigh*
Love means not minding the sticky mess.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Hailley Turns Two
I'm a cereal in the morning kind of mom. Between the late nights I pull doing homework, the twice a night feedings I do with Maximus, and the getting 3 young kids ready to be out the door by 7:45 a.m. that I have to handle, I have no remote interest in adding a kitchen mess to clean to my morning list. This morning was different though: my middle child is turning two today!
Excited, I skip into the girls' room this morning and sing, "Good morning ladies!" Silence is the response I am met with.
"It's time to get up and get ready for school!" Hailley, who was sleeping on the floor next to her toddler bed as usual, starts to stir. I focus my good mood on her first.
"Happy birthday Hailley! You are two years old today!"
"NOOOOooooooo.." She mumbles. I ignore this.
"Hailley, when someone asks you how old you are, say 'I'm two!' " I continue.
"NOOOOOO!" She shouts. Nothing like waking up a toddler who is not a morning person.
I make sure the girls are out of bed and move to the kitchen. I'm not going to let her sour face ruin my morning!
So I whip up scrambled eggs, sausage patties and pancakes, complete with one little lit candle.
Swaylynn has gotten Hailley dressed and in her high chair. Both girls are staring at me with blank faces. Looks like I will have to emit all the positive moods today.
"Happy birthday to you.." I start singing as I walk towards Hailley with her birthday breakfast. "Happy birthday to you.."
"Nnnoooooooo.." Hailley starts to growl. She shrinks down into her chair. I slow down but I'm still singing. "NNNOOOOOO!!" She yells again.
"Don't you want to blow out your candle honey?" I ask her. She has shrunk down further in her chair, and has a horrible look on her face. Sway is giggling in her chair next to Hailley.
"Look at her face!" Sway giggles again. I hide my own smirk. It's pretty funny, but all H-E-double hockey sticks will break loose if Hailley thinks we are teasing her.
Hailley scowls even more, a feat which I did not think was possible. She shakes her head at me and says, (you guessed it!) "NNNOOOO!"
I ended up blowing out her candle for her. She also decided to refuse to eat this morning, so breakfast was a complete flop. I have stopped singing by this time. So much for a cheery birthday morning!
Like I said, I'm a cereal in the morning kind of mom.
Excited, I skip into the girls' room this morning and sing, "Good morning ladies!" Silence is the response I am met with.
"It's time to get up and get ready for school!" Hailley, who was sleeping on the floor next to her toddler bed as usual, starts to stir. I focus my good mood on her first.
"Happy birthday Hailley! You are two years old today!"
"NOOOOooooooo.." She mumbles. I ignore this.
"Hailley, when someone asks you how old you are, say 'I'm two!' " I continue.
"NOOOOOO!" She shouts. Nothing like waking up a toddler who is not a morning person.
I make sure the girls are out of bed and move to the kitchen. I'm not going to let her sour face ruin my morning!
So I whip up scrambled eggs, sausage patties and pancakes, complete with one little lit candle.
Swaylynn has gotten Hailley dressed and in her high chair. Both girls are staring at me with blank faces. Looks like I will have to emit all the positive moods today.
"Happy birthday to you.." I start singing as I walk towards Hailley with her birthday breakfast. "Happy birthday to you.."
"Nnnoooooooo.." Hailley starts to growl. She shrinks down into her chair. I slow down but I'm still singing. "NNNOOOOOO!!" She yells again.
"Don't you want to blow out your candle honey?" I ask her. She has shrunk down further in her chair, and has a horrible look on her face. Sway is giggling in her chair next to Hailley.
"Look at her face!" Sway giggles again. I hide my own smirk. It's pretty funny, but all H-E-double hockey sticks will break loose if Hailley thinks we are teasing her.
Hailley scowls even more, a feat which I did not think was possible. She shakes her head at me and says, (you guessed it!) "NNNOOOO!"
I ended up blowing out her candle for her. She also decided to refuse to eat this morning, so breakfast was a complete flop. I have stopped singing by this time. So much for a cheery birthday morning!
Like I said, I'm a cereal in the morning kind of mom.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Sweat Baby, Sweat
This year I joined the millions of other Americans who vowed to lose weight in 2012. I am proud to announce that I have stuck to my goal (which was not a New Year's alcohol-induced declaration, thank you!) so far this year and I have worked out every single week since the first week of January. Three times a week minimum, at least 30 minutes per time. Come hell or high water, I'm doing it!
My husband treated us to a gym membership, which is my preferred method of huffing my way to a sweaty disaster, but alas, it is not always possible for me to get there. To compensate for this, I have invested in home workout activities. I have the Wii Fit, the Just Dance 3 game (which totally rocks! ), an exercise ball that spends more time entertaining my daughters than me, and lately, my BabyTone Workout DVD by Dustin Maher. I love this DVD, and I highly recommend checking it out. Of course I have the stamina of silly putty so this workout makes my cellulite beg for mercy, but it's worth it.
The workout is cool because it requires using your baby as a weight in the routines. Maximus LOVES this. So does Hailley. She screams in delight, invades my workout space, and even has tried to climb me as I exercise. I can now add "tree" to my resume. Sweet.
Today Hailley had a new idea. I was standing in the living room holding Max out in front of me as if he had a loaded diaper, while I did squats. Maximus is squealing in delight, and I am praying my legs don't snap like pretzel sticks in thick cheese dip. Hailley watched me for a moment, then she went to her room, got her baby-doll and started mimicking me. It was so cute! And much better than pretending I am a tree.
My husband treated us to a gym membership, which is my preferred method of huffing my way to a sweaty disaster, but alas, it is not always possible for me to get there. To compensate for this, I have invested in home workout activities. I have the Wii Fit, the Just Dance 3 game (which totally rocks! ), an exercise ball that spends more time entertaining my daughters than me, and lately, my BabyTone Workout DVD by Dustin Maher. I love this DVD, and I highly recommend checking it out. Of course I have the stamina of silly putty so this workout makes my cellulite beg for mercy, but it's worth it.
The workout is cool because it requires using your baby as a weight in the routines. Maximus LOVES this. So does Hailley. She screams in delight, invades my workout space, and even has tried to climb me as I exercise. I can now add "tree" to my resume. Sweet.
Today Hailley had a new idea. I was standing in the living room holding Max out in front of me as if he had a loaded diaper, while I did squats. Maximus is squealing in delight, and I am praying my legs don't snap like pretzel sticks in thick cheese dip. Hailley watched me for a moment, then she went to her room, got her baby-doll and started mimicking me. It was so cute! And much better than pretending I am a tree.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
She does listen...
Yesterday I took my kids grocery shopping. If you want an adrenaline rush, skip the bungee jumping or luging- just take my three kids to Walmart! There is ALWAYS someone who melts down during shopping (hint: it's not me!) Add this stress to the dirty looks I get while toting around a shrieking toddler/infant/both, and I'm either burning calories at lightning speed or I'm setting myself up for coronary failure. I once had an elderly woman ask me: "Is that your child?" I felt like saying, "No, I just randomly bring screaming kids that aren't mine around here, just for the fun of it!" I now treat shopping for food like an obstacle course, and I'm racing against myself and the time it took me before. In and out in 45 minutes-that's a record!
Anyway so after I pull into our apartment complex and park, I arrange for Swaylynn to take Hailley up the stairs while I get the groceries up. Our apartment is on the second floor, so this is also an exercise in speed: hurry up and get my stuff upstairs before Hailley notices the gate is down and wanders over to the staircase (and I have a heart attack!) Sway is an excellent helper, and usually occupies her little sister while I do the heavy lifting. Yesterday, however, Sway came out after me because she had to bring in her backpack. I was loading up my arms with bags from the trunk already-as many as my noodle biceps can handle. Sway comes around the other side of the car and says to me, "Can you please put my coat on your head and carry it in? My arms are full." I look at my daughter. She has her backpack and her coat, both of which she could put on and carry inside, and she wants me to help her?
"Sway look at all the stuff I'm carrying!" I huff as I turn to go inside. No way I'm adding to the teetering load I now am balancing. This is what I hear behind me, coming from the mouth of my eight-year old:
"Oh, you are fine. That's what you always tell me when I have a bunch of stuff to carry, so I guess now it's my turn to tell you- you are fine!"
I laughed all the way inside and up the stairs. I guess I had that coming.
Anyway so after I pull into our apartment complex and park, I arrange for Swaylynn to take Hailley up the stairs while I get the groceries up. Our apartment is on the second floor, so this is also an exercise in speed: hurry up and get my stuff upstairs before Hailley notices the gate is down and wanders over to the staircase (and I have a heart attack!) Sway is an excellent helper, and usually occupies her little sister while I do the heavy lifting. Yesterday, however, Sway came out after me because she had to bring in her backpack. I was loading up my arms with bags from the trunk already-as many as my noodle biceps can handle. Sway comes around the other side of the car and says to me, "Can you please put my coat on your head and carry it in? My arms are full." I look at my daughter. She has her backpack and her coat, both of which she could put on and carry inside, and she wants me to help her?
"Sway look at all the stuff I'm carrying!" I huff as I turn to go inside. No way I'm adding to the teetering load I now am balancing. This is what I hear behind me, coming from the mouth of my eight-year old:
"Oh, you are fine. That's what you always tell me when I have a bunch of stuff to carry, so I guess now it's my turn to tell you- you are fine!"
I laughed all the way inside and up the stairs. I guess I had that coming.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Are You Coming Home Honey?
Ah, the weekend. Saturdays are made for sleeping in (7:30), relaxing (laundry) and...marker all over Hailley's face? I opened her bedroom door to see her sitting on Sway's chair pillow, decorating her face and the pillow with blue marker. My little artist. And it was only 8 am.
After the art fiasco, the rest of my day went as follows:
The house was a disaster. I started cleaning immediately. Hailley peed on the living room table (potty training is fun!) Swaylynn, my 8 year-old, started to melt down around 11 because I let her stay up too late the night before. Being the genius I am, I put her down for a nap with Hailley. This meant they spent their quiet time fighting. Maximus, my 4 month-old, was gassy and therefore irritable and refused to nap when the girls did. This meant I also did not get a nap in. By the time Blake came home at 3:30, I was ready to escape.
Now my husband loves me and wants me to be happy. However, if I don't declare some "me" time then it just doesn't happen. Men are so different-they take care of themselves first and everyone else comes after that. It is not that Blake is cruel or overly selfish, its just the way he is programmed. This is why when he sauntered home finally, I handed him the baby and said, "Well, I've got a few errands to run, so I'm leaving." I had no idea where I was going to go or what I was going to do, but I figured I'll get to that after I get the heck out of the house.
"Okay honey!" was his cheerful response. I quickly explained that everyone was hungry and grouchy, and I headed out the door without even changing out of my Mom At Work outfit. I had escaped! I went straight to the mall. I never go shopping. For a person who rarely goes anywhere without diapers and goldfish snacks, I felt like I was on vacation. My plan was to window shop mostly. Oh, I had a fantastic time. So much fun in fact, trying on dresses and drooling over shoes and treating myself to a new necklace, that I never even looked at my cell phone to check the time. Finally the high started to wear off and I heard my cell phone chirp with a new text message. My husband had written, Do you plan to come home honey?
Of course I planned to come home. Eventually.
After the art fiasco, the rest of my day went as follows:
The house was a disaster. I started cleaning immediately. Hailley peed on the living room table (potty training is fun!) Swaylynn, my 8 year-old, started to melt down around 11 because I let her stay up too late the night before. Being the genius I am, I put her down for a nap with Hailley. This meant they spent their quiet time fighting. Maximus, my 4 month-old, was gassy and therefore irritable and refused to nap when the girls did. This meant I also did not get a nap in. By the time Blake came home at 3:30, I was ready to escape.
Now my husband loves me and wants me to be happy. However, if I don't declare some "me" time then it just doesn't happen. Men are so different-they take care of themselves first and everyone else comes after that. It is not that Blake is cruel or overly selfish, its just the way he is programmed. This is why when he sauntered home finally, I handed him the baby and said, "Well, I've got a few errands to run, so I'm leaving." I had no idea where I was going to go or what I was going to do, but I figured I'll get to that after I get the heck out of the house.
"Okay honey!" was his cheerful response. I quickly explained that everyone was hungry and grouchy, and I headed out the door without even changing out of my Mom At Work outfit. I had escaped! I went straight to the mall. I never go shopping. For a person who rarely goes anywhere without diapers and goldfish snacks, I felt like I was on vacation. My plan was to window shop mostly. Oh, I had a fantastic time. So much fun in fact, trying on dresses and drooling over shoes and treating myself to a new necklace, that I never even looked at my cell phone to check the time. Finally the high started to wear off and I heard my cell phone chirp with a new text message. My husband had written, Do you plan to come home honey?
Of course I planned to come home. Eventually.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
The Prodigal Slipper and the Stapler
My nearly two-year old loves to throw things. She has no preference really to what she picks up and whips. Hailley throws paper, pencils, books, toys, balls, keys, garbage, food, socks, shoes, underwear and herself when she feels the need. She often accompanies this action with running in the opposite direction of the individual who so desires the item she possesses. As the person who suffers the most from this, I strongly dislike her hurling action. I try to put on my Mary Poppins face and nicely tell her not to run away with my stuff, but she does anyway. I choke down the urge to yell at her cherubic little face when she whips it across the room out of reach as I'm feeding the baby. I bite my lip to discourage myself from going into her room and throwing all HER stuff-let's see how she likes a taste of her own medicine!! I sit back and remember that I am the adult, whether or not I feel like it.
As you can probably guess, many, many household things are lost after they leave Hailley's chubby little fingers and are launched into space. Most recently was my mini stapler that I use for my college classes. The thing simply disappeared. I searched everywhere to no avail. I knew though. I knew who was behind the crime. Without any evidence though, I couldn't prove her guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.
I recently removed the baby bassinet from beside our bed. Do you know what I found where the bassinet once was? Of course you do, and I certainly should have known too. A slipper! The slipper that the entire family spent time searching for a month ago, all in vain. And right next to that prodigal slipper? My stapler.
As you can probably guess, many, many household things are lost after they leave Hailley's chubby little fingers and are launched into space. Most recently was my mini stapler that I use for my college classes. The thing simply disappeared. I searched everywhere to no avail. I knew though. I knew who was behind the crime. Without any evidence though, I couldn't prove her guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.
I recently removed the baby bassinet from beside our bed. Do you know what I found where the bassinet once was? Of course you do, and I certainly should have known too. A slipper! The slipper that the entire family spent time searching for a month ago, all in vain. And right next to that prodigal slipper? My stapler.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
It's Totally Worth It
It is not easy getting up at 5 in the morning. I grovel at the feet of my husband Blake, who gets up at 3 a.m. to go work out and get ready to be at work by 7. However I am trying to make these mornings more enjoyable (or are least productive).
This morning I was busy cleaning our apartment in preparation for some guests we are expecting over later. I started my morning with some Joyce Meyer preaching, and then the CD player automatically moved on to the next CD in the slot after Joyce's teaching on Power Thoughts was finished. A mix of the music from our wedding popped on. As I'm wandering around, humming to myself, my daughter Hailley approaches. She wants to dance with me!
We twirl around the living room at 6:30 a.m., giggling and singing along to Ray Charles "I Got a Woman", and I realize that my early risings are all worth it for this moment.
This morning I was busy cleaning our apartment in preparation for some guests we are expecting over later. I started my morning with some Joyce Meyer preaching, and then the CD player automatically moved on to the next CD in the slot after Joyce's teaching on Power Thoughts was finished. A mix of the music from our wedding popped on. As I'm wandering around, humming to myself, my daughter Hailley approaches. She wants to dance with me!
We twirl around the living room at 6:30 a.m., giggling and singing along to Ray Charles "I Got a Woman", and I realize that my early risings are all worth it for this moment.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Mount Dresser
Oh glorious nap time. The time of day where I am ALONE and can entertain thoughts and activities that don't center around messy diapers, goldfish ground into my carpet or Hailley's favorite board book from Hawaii, which is currently crusted closed by.. IDK a fruit squeeze snack? Eww.
Anyway so yesterday I put Hailley and Maximus down for their afternoon "quiet time"; the word "nap" is met with great resistance in my home. But before I tell you what happened, let me explain something first. Nap time in my home is not always peaceful for me (or Hailley for that matter). It can be very bad. Previous naps have led to permanent marker all over the TV, nail polish on my childhood teddy bear's face, and fecal matter on the carpet and wall. Nap time is met with nervous apprehension by me, and doom by Hailley. (Max is an infant and still likes to sleep, and is too little to wreak havoc yet.)
So where was I? Yes, yesterday. I put the children into their rooms and set about my own business. After I while I heard Hailley start to scream from her room. I rush in to find this scenario:
She looks at me and says, "DOWN!"
Anyway so yesterday I put Hailley and Maximus down for their afternoon "quiet time"; the word "nap" is met with great resistance in my home. But before I tell you what happened, let me explain something first. Nap time in my home is not always peaceful for me (or Hailley for that matter). It can be very bad. Previous naps have led to permanent marker all over the TV, nail polish on my childhood teddy bear's face, and fecal matter on the carpet and wall. Nap time is met with nervous apprehension by me, and doom by Hailley. (Max is an infant and still likes to sleep, and is too little to wreak havoc yet.)
So where was I? Yes, yesterday. I put the children into their rooms and set about my own business. After I while I heard Hailley start to scream from her room. I rush in to find this scenario:
- The radio is on as usual, but it is now blasting the Christian radio station I tune into.
- I look at Hailley's toddler bed. Empty.
- My eyes shoot to Swaylynn's bed (the 8 year old not home). Empty.
- I look at the rest of the room. Most of the dresser drawers are open, and some of Sway's clothes are spread around the area. Still no Hailley.
She looks at me and says, "DOWN!"
Really?
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Whose bed is this?
Right now I should be sleeping. I should be fast asleep, dreaming about a clean apartment, or being skinny again, or Jason Segel. Lord knows I could use my "beauty rest". This morning, however, I gave up this precious allotted amount of time by 4:50 a.m. Why the *@#& would I do this, you ask? I blame my son Maximus.
Max is four months old, and already suffers from an addiction. "What??" You might think to yourself. "I am reading a blog that a drug-induced mother wrote?" No, of course not. I gave up drugs days ago. (insert sarcasm here) He really has an addiction though, and it is to my bed.
I can't argue with the kid. My husband and I enjoy a queen-sized cloud covered in bedding from my favorite store, Target. This is the place I would vacation to every summer if I could. So I get why he feels so comfortable here. But.. really? His satisfaction in taking over my side leaves me suffering. I know what you're thinking-so don't let the kid sleep in your bed dummy! Oh, if only it were that easy. You try listening to a baby cry in his crib for even five minutes. Parents of the world get it. Before I know it he is happily nestled against me, breastfeeding. Then he is asleep but I am a human pacifier. Then he is kicking my left boob repeatedly (um, hello, way to kick the boob that fed you!) Finally he starts oohing and ahhing incessantly, a trait he picked up from his father. So I vacate the premises, and he falls back asleep immediately. Go figure.
Max is four months old, and already suffers from an addiction. "What??" You might think to yourself. "I am reading a blog that a drug-induced mother wrote?" No, of course not. I gave up drugs days ago. (insert sarcasm here) He really has an addiction though, and it is to my bed.
I can't argue with the kid. My husband and I enjoy a queen-sized cloud covered in bedding from my favorite store, Target. This is the place I would vacation to every summer if I could. So I get why he feels so comfortable here. But.. really? His satisfaction in taking over my side leaves me suffering. I know what you're thinking-so don't let the kid sleep in your bed dummy! Oh, if only it were that easy. You try listening to a baby cry in his crib for even five minutes. Parents of the world get it. Before I know it he is happily nestled against me, breastfeeding. Then he is asleep but I am a human pacifier. Then he is kicking my left boob repeatedly (um, hello, way to kick the boob that fed you!) Finally he starts oohing and ahhing incessantly, a trait he picked up from his father. So I vacate the premises, and he falls back asleep immediately. Go figure.
The scene of the crime, complete with spit up.
The Bologna Slap
Every single day of my life, something strange or otherwise notable occurs that causes this reaction in me: "Really?" As a married woman with three small children, there are ample opportunities for such a situation to happen, and happen they do.
Take last week for example. I was taking a shower in my bathroom. Mind you as this said married woman with three children, this act was not only necessary, as I probably hadn't showered in days, but it was also the few minutes of that day that I got to myself. No cries to investigate, no poop to scrape off the wall, no everyday object to fetch out of a drawer for someone. Right as I was really feeling relaxed, I heard the bathroom door open. My 23-month old daughter Hailley opens the door, walks over to the shower, peels back the curtain and very calmly, slaps me in the leg with the slice of bologna she was eating.
Really?
I no longer wonder why animals eat their young.
Take last week for example. I was taking a shower in my bathroom. Mind you as this said married woman with three children, this act was not only necessary, as I probably hadn't showered in days, but it was also the few minutes of that day that I got to myself. No cries to investigate, no poop to scrape off the wall, no everyday object to fetch out of a drawer for someone. Right as I was really feeling relaxed, I heard the bathroom door open. My 23-month old daughter Hailley opens the door, walks over to the shower, peels back the curtain and very calmly, slaps me in the leg with the slice of bologna she was eating.
Really?
I no longer wonder why animals eat their young.
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