Monday, September 28, 2009

I love... Mondays

Really, I do. I know. Don't hate me. Monday is pretty much like any other day in my world, but even when I wasn't a SAHM (stay at home mom) I still liked Mondays. I'm a mutant and I accept it.

I need more share-apy. In trying to add a little more positive in my life, not dwelling on the negative, I started making a list in my head. On a Monday. And so this is where "I Love... Mondays" was born. It was a good day, too.

Wanna hear?

I Love... Mondays.

I love... autumn. The leaves, the changing temps, the need for jeans and sweatshirt, thick hearty soups. I love how the light changes, the shadows change, and things just seem to glow.

I love... the leaves - changing color, the crisp and crunch when you walk through them, I even like raking them. It makes me feel good to work up a sweat (though I could do without the blisters), piling them up and forcing my kids to jump thru them.

I love... my daughter's dramatic enthusiasm about all things. From dancing, princesses, and pink to the way she describes things with big adjectives like "teeny" and "ginormous". Her hugs will pert near pop your head off. Her enthusiasm for learning is inspiring; she loves to sound out words and figure out the letter they start with, she counts everything (up to 25), and insists loudly on you listening to her as she does it.

I love... where I live. I love that it's a small town and I can let my children play at the park without worry. I love driving by cows and horses. I love the curvy roads, the hills and valleys. I love seeing wildlife (deer, eagles, pheasants, the seldom seen fox or coyote). I love being able to stop the car in the middle of the road so my children can watch, too.

So tell me, what do you love?

Leave a comment and share your loves, too.

Not Me, Monday business.

Welcome to a blog carnival of "share-apy", courtesy of MckMama. The day you shamelessly don't confess all the things that didn't happen in your life. Because such things would never happen in the homes of such respectable people.

Like the fact that I did not find that my youngest daughter had eaten a whole entire bag of chocolate chips. The. whole. bag. In less than an hour.

I do not have an infant child who can eat an entire whole (as in, uncut) apple, skins, core, and all, by himself. It does not keep him completely occupied and in essentially one place for nearly an hour. Nor is he immensely pleased with this "treat."

Regular bathers that we are, here, I did not arrive at church to remember that one such KJ still had frosting smeared in her hair from a wedding the night before. I most certainly would have noticed the frosting at home when I was brushing her hair, there. Because I am a stickler for grooming, and never forget to brush, or wash. Especially before church or school. And I did not attempt to "hide" the greasy frosting hair with a poor attempt at a pony tail on top, fashioned from unbrushed greasy hair without a brush. I am way more prepared than that.

On a day when B-Boy had a 2 hour late start, and daddy was home to man the rest of the crowd, we did not arrive half an hour late for the 5th day of preschool. Because having to dress and feed only one child instead of four means that we should have arrived early. I am obsessively prompt. Always. R i g h t.

And now.. If you'll join me, I am creating my OWN blog festival called "I Love... Mondays." Check the main blog page and see the latest and greatest. Or... be the first person to link! Thanks!

Friday, September 25, 2009

Underwear, chicken strips and eyeballs.

I love what kids think is funny. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's just funny because they think so. I love it when their little sense of humor develops. And we do have those sillies, too.

B-Boy's new favorite saying is straight out of Alvin and the Chick-a-monks (cuz no one in my house says it correctly, or not anymore).
"Dave likes to wear
smelly underwear"
It's a little funny, and not strange to me that they think it's funny, but when he repeats it over and over in his own little chipmonk voice, THAT'S funny.

Then there are "the things they say." The unintentionally funny ones.

Today, we were sitting at the table and Cheeks says, "Mommy, I want more chicken strips." As in, corn flakes. Of coarse! That was so obvious.

I laughed. This got KJ laughing, and then on a silly jag where she started chanting and making up rhymes about eyeballs, and just the word "eyeballs" was funny to her, and so she laughed an exagerated, deep gut, loud, infectious laugh. It was good.

My favorite of the day was the more heart melty thing, but not really comical.

I was making supper when KJ asked if we could have "happy pancakes." I'm thinking, happy pancakes?

Light bulb!

Why, sure we can! With rainbow sprinkles? What would happy pancakes be without rainbow sprinkles!

Now don't tell me that doesn't make you smile.

:D See, they really are happy.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009


Uhhhhh. Yeah. So I had this great post idea I was going to roll out yesterday. But I got sidetracked.

See, what happened is, a friend called and offered me a free ticket to a concert. Uh.... OK! So that thwarted all my plans. But I had a great time.

I do have pics of my old funky wallpaper.

See! Pinks and purples and greens and yellows,
all in some kind of pattern that makes me think of butterflies and flowers.

And here's the closet. It's so very tiny. My house was built somewhere around, and possibly before, 1876. They had really small closets in those days. Ridiculously small.

And the walls are made of this lovely plaster kind of crap stuff that is then covered with wallpaper, as it is not smooth. It is pourous, and crumbly. And doesn't hold nails very well. Good thing we have a 1 1/2 story so the top half of the walls are slanted, and I can't hang pictures anyway.

And the lovely yellowish paint you see on that shelf thing must be latex over oil base paint, and now that it is also old, the top coat is peeling and chipping and creates a great mess. And it's painted on everything. This is the other crap I have spent hours and hours scraping.

Here you can see that the bottom 4 inches is missing. I tried to convince my hubby that we should rip out the plaster and lathe now, so that we can sheetrock (and not lose any precious inches). He didn't go for it. Not sure what he's planning to do to cover up that huge hole.

You can also see a little sneak peek of the floor color. But really, the pics do not do justice to my paint choices. So you'll just have to come over and see for yourself. But, uh, call first. :D

Monday, September 21, 2009

Circus time!

It's time. Time to join the circus. Or carnival. Or whatever. I think I'm more of a circus act (think freak/side show, but hopefully not bearded lady) than a carney rat. Kudos to MckMama for her creativity and honesty in coming up with this free form of therapy. And boy, do I. need. therapy.

Warning: this may be a little heavy on the Lil'D tales. (haha, if you say that fast, it sounds like "little details."

Sorry. I'm easily amused. Ahem. Onward!

I did not turn my back on a Lil'D, knowing he likes to stand up in his high chair, only to find him covered in butter. I did not place his high chair a little too close to the counter. I did not just leave the butter as it was, and continue using it, baby slobber and all.

On the same day as the butter incident, I did not have to wash his hair 3 times, with shampoo, because of various things he smeared on his head.

Sticking with High Chair Times, I also did not find this child hanging over the side of the high chair tray, feet first, in an attempt to get himself down. This would not be the first indication that some things were about to change.

I did not go to a friends house, assure him he would be safe on the stairs (he was) as he could only go up, not down, only to be instantly proven wrong by his quick and skillful descent.

This child did not start walking in the last two weeks, as in taking more than 2 steps and actually traversing across the room and beyond. Even at child #4, this still amazes the heck out of me. We do not enjoy watching him waddle / stagger, and then plop down when he loses balance. I do not find it hilarious how babies hold their arms up like goal posts. My children still do not shriek,  "Mom, look! He's walking. Awww!"

Stairs and walking. Lordy, what will I do!

I shamefully have not taken any video of this momentous walking (seriously) because I did not misplace my snappy camera with the video capabilities. I have not (really) shared this detail with my husband, so don't you, either! This lost camera is not an indication that my house is already getting out of control.

I did not have a computer wide (mostly) freak out on my blog, FB and BlogFrog. This did not lead to me banning myself from even just sitting in the computer chair, (yes, I'm that much of an addict) in order to hopefully get something done. It also had nothing to do with feeling guilty about spreading my doom and gloom worldwide. I did not break my own rule withing 48 hrs.

My husband was not on the crappy end of said doom and gloom. My guilt about that did not lead me to say "yes" to getting a boat loan (albeit small one) for another boat. No, we do not have two boats now.

I did manage to accomplish something, though it is still not finished (yet). Because of my ongoing "project," my upstairs hallway does not look like this:

Please do not notice the MOUNTAIN of blankets, pillows, laundry basket and other assorted goodies, in addition to all the painting supplies, furniture and random bags of garbage. Thankyouverymuch.

I did not find Lil'D playing with the (possibly dangerous) recyclables and garbage. I did not allow him to continue playing with it because he was quiet and content and he had finally stopped bugging me / crying. That would be gross, completely irresponsible, and I do not have such an intense need for "mommy freedom" lately as to allow my child to play with objects that could injure him (possibly).

Ok. Well, enough blog share-apy. Please check back for a blog carnival of MY OWN that I am doing today. No doom and gloom involved. I promise!

Sunday, September 20, 2009


It's been "a week." One helluva week. I don't know why. I'm having "a month," "a summer," "a season." Of something. Uffda. Where'd my joy go, that's what I'd like to know. But who wants to hear about that.

So thanks to all the BlogFroggers for reassuring me that I'm normal. :D Or whatever. lol. I appreciate it, though.

I have managed to unneccesarily freak out on everyone so I took/am taking a hiatus from all things computer related. Well, except right now. Seeing as I'm online and all. Hey, I can break my own rules. This removal from all things computer realted is an attempt to find sanity elsewhere. That's sort of laughable, isn't it? Mothers with Sanity. A club I'll never qualify for. You know what I mean, though.

I am making slow but steady work on finishing up my room. So I can have one cotton pickin' place to go that's MINE! (With a door, in case you missed that!) I finally finished painting the trim and the walls. I, additionally, stripped the closet of it's TOTALLY funky (and ancient) wallpaper. I really should take a pic of it. The wallpaper, that is. Closet's not much to look at. Really. I'll take a pic to prove it. Left on the junket is painting the floor, then hub has to switch out the electrical sockets so that they're white, not off white, to match the trim, and install the light fixture we've had sitting around for 6 yrs. I really would like to remove all the door hardware and sandblast it, but I'm willing to forgo that for the sake of peace and quiet and private moments behind a door. Did I mention it has a door? Oh, and the best part, besides the door, is THERE WILL BE NO CHILDREN LIVING IN THAT ROOM. Ahhhhhhhh. That will be grand. Until then, please don's stop by as my house is a maze of paint cans, paint brushes, rando, closet contents which include really dusty blankets and a blow-up pig my BIL gave to my Hubba-Hubba at his bachelor party (and can you believe it's still blown up... 6 1/2 yrs later!), and bad furniture. There's really no place to walk. Especially in my current bedroom. It's so so very very bad. But not for long. 

Ok, enough babbling.

In kid news, Lil'D has made great advancements in the walking arena. He finally decided about a week and a half ago to just go for it, and can now bee seen walking across the living room, occasionally, though he still crawls plenty. He is working on a new tooth, and has a whopping case of  don't-put-me-down-or-I'll-bawl-you-deaf-itis. He is working on adding some new vocabulary to his very small list. We are up from cracker to what's that, sit down, thank you, and no.

B-Boy is doing fine at school. The teacher seems to have warmed up and is no longer weird. New year jitters is what I'm chalking it up to. He complained daily of hating nap time, but a chat with him, mom and teacher, plus the bribe of jerky nuggets has seemed to halt that.

KJ LOVES school, and wishes she could go every day. In fact, she asks me every day, is today my school day?

Cheeks, well, she's always dirty, pees her pants regularly, and still loves her blankie and fingers with no sign of letting go. Basically, business as usual for her.

They're all wonderful and trying, challenging and comical, lovable and irritating, all the time. Cuz, ya know, they're kids. More on that another day. But right now, I have to deal with an unhappy, hungry walker, who is not content to sit on my lap and not touch the keyboard.

I'm not making this stuff up.

I mean, really. How could I? (OK, well the stuff at the end I did "make up," but only because I was forced to. It really did happen, though.)

I've been making a running list, cuz this is stuff you wanna remember. (And to note, I started this list, like, 2 weeks ago, before everyone else started posting this stuff. Just sayin'. Cuz sometimes I just don't like to jump on everyone else's bandwagon.)

The things they say...

Mom, we're playing "put each other in the oven." (I also noticed it entailed chopping each other up. saywha?) (B-Boy)

Ring around the rosy, gash, gash gash gash. (Cheeks)

Mom, I'm brushing my hair. See? That's what girls have to do. (KJ)

Ca-coo. (translation: cracker) (Because he doesn't have many words. But it's a cute one.) (Lil'D) Sorry. Couldn't leave him out.

Helloooo! Is there anybody IN there? (KJ, trying to get mama's attention.)

Mom, are you gonna sell us to the gypsies today? (B-Boy)

I have a wiener. haa-ha (Cheeks, in a nanny nanny boo boo voice) Me: no you don't.

There's a zibicada (cicada). (Cheeks)

I want hunchy boats. (Cheeks) (Honey bunches of oats.)

Mommy, your rocket ship is dripping. (Cheeks) (Talking about a lava lamp.)

Why did the chicken cross the road? To get the letters for Miss Brenda's room. (KJ) (Huh?)

Mom, I'm quitting my job. It's not there anymore. (B-Boy) (talking about school.)

The things I say...
...because the things we find ourselves saying are sometimes as equally surprising and amusing.

What other tools besides daddy's razor saw do you have outside?

Cheeks, did you go potty in your pants at the park again? Then you need to wait until you are home to take off your pants and underwear.

Please stop touching my boob. It's weird.

No,  you may not make cement in the wagon. Well, if it's grass and sand cement then I guess that's ok.

Did you just pee in that bucket?

We do not pee, outside, in a bucket, in the front yard, with our sister watching. Dump the pee, throw the bucket away, and get inside. Yes you will throw the bucket away. Pee is gross. And besides, the bucket is cracked anyway.

No, Cheeks, don't play in the pee. Oh, gross! Stop stop stop! Ugh. Go wash your hands now!

Friday, September 11, 2009

New Adventures and a calmed down mama

Now that I have regained my composure and some sense of reason, things are fine. Calm. Calmer. And hopefully they stay that way. My mama jitters surely got the best of me, but B-Boy did just fine. I don't think he had any jitters at all.

But before we get into any details, lets reminisce a bit.

Two years ago, my little 3 year old boy, then brother to one and a half sisters (one bun was still in the oven), started his first day of preschool. I was not nervous at all; He may not have been completely happy to be there. He's not the type to cry when I leave, but when I picked him up (after a whole 2 and a half hours), he had a few tears to shed. Here he is, with his little baby face, holding the first picture he ever painted at school.

Sigh. tear. My baby. My firstborn.
Now, at the ripe old age of 5 1/2, he embarks on his new path of school with the big kids, eating a cafeteria lunch, recess, NAP TIME, music class, gym class, and all kinds of other things we are about to discover. It's exciting and scary.

Naturally, as parents, we want our children to be happy, well adjusted, and succeed at what they do. As a mom, I'm protective to a degree, worry just a little, and love a whole lot. Having listened to him say everyday, both before and after, for the first year and a half of preschool that he didn't want to go to school, I began to get worried that this was going to last a lifetime. And I don't want that. He's got that boy tendancy to not be so interested in learning his letters, or to write his name, couldn't really care less that letters form words, and words say things, and you can read all about hunting and guns and airplanes and fish. He is very curious, and learns lots of things, is very intent and watchful, quick to imitate. But just not like that. So I imagine that some of this year may be challenging to him. Which is why I want him to have the best teacher for him. We had some unexpected turns, which he has accepted amazingly well, whereas his parents, not so much. As we are learning to just wait and see how things go, he's diving right in, like it's a normal part of everyday, just regular old stuff. Hm. Ok!

I was VERY relieved when I asked him how his first day of school was, and his answer was matter-of-factly "great." Wow. He doesn't use that word very often. That's a good sign. So what? I did all that fretting and freaking and blogging and such for nothing??? He also told us all about how he went to the music room with Mr. Noxious (I have NO IDEA if that's his name, that's just what I heard), played on the baseball field, and read about the Gingerbread Man. Did you know he RAN AWAY? Gasp, really?? Yeah, and it's NOT FUNNY! (giggle giggle). We also heard about how he ate a chicken patty, applesauce, a roll, chocolate milk and (?something else). Wow, that's a LOT, KJ exclaimed.

And truly! That was a lot. A lot of information from a boy who is not expressive, in any sort of detail, about things he's not excited about. So for him to tell me 3 things about his day, and all five things he ate for lunch? That's amazing.

I/we have decided to stay calm, and see what happens. Granted, I have to do this for myself, as well as hold back the reigns on my husband, who happens to be a much more fierce a protector that I. So "we're" trying to stay calm, rather than go in there, guns blazing, and bowl the poor woman over. I do, however, plan to be the proactive advocate for my child, should the need arise.

My qualms about this teacher are still there, but maybe because it's just not how I would do things. So we're watching. His second day did send a little spike in the blood pressure when we heard those words "I don't want to go to school anymore." But in plugging him for more info, he was hot and couldn't sleep at rest time. Ok, so he wore shorts and a t-shirt today. And it's a bit cooler. We're trying to make the best of it. And I also decided that I'll prompt him to go say "good morning" to her, because that's good manners, and we want to show her what good manners we have. ;)

Deep breath, and e x h a l e .

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Mama Lion

I'm sure every mom wants the best for their child. I am no exception. I imagine most would fight for that, do their best to get it. 

I am that mom, today, but also, totally don't want to be that mom.

Having a little problem with the Kindergarten teacher, I am. See, the preschool teacher supposedly was putting in a recommendation for a specific teacher, because she was more nurturing, does better with kids who are not daycare kids, etc. So of coarse I wanted that teacher for my child, and assumed that her recommendation would "make it happen." It did not. Either she did not put in the recommendation as she said she would, or it got lost or overlooked. Whatever. So after a month and a half of talking about Mrs. B, we get the class list saying he has Mrs. A. Ummm... shock-o, and suck-o. I called the principal the next day, who basically said that the classes were already made out so there really wasn't anything she could do, but if something changed over the summer she would keep him in mind.

Fast forward to the beginning of the school year. We have managed to talk up Mrs. A, and B-boy is all ready to go to Kindergarten, maybe even a little excited, with Mrs. A. We go to the pre-school conference, and it was a little weird. She did not greet him, didn't say "welcome to my room", didn't introduce herself to him or me, didn't show us around, just ushered us in and seemed in a hurry to put away his supplies. Well, see, I'VE NEVER MET THIS LADY! And neither had he. So much for first impressions. She showed him where to put his stuff, then talked to me about the snack schedule and signing up to chaperone and all that lovely stuff. Then sent us on our way. I walked away feeling.... unsettled.

Today, first day of school, I drop him off. We walk into the classroom, which is oddly quiet for kindergarteners, and she barely says hi, no good morning or anything, takes his folder, then walks away, leaving us to stand there, not knowing what to do next. No direction, doesn't really even pay us any attention. Doesn't show him where to sit or say what they're doing. So, seeing the other children are coloring, I look for his box, and then say "let's look for your seat." She's by us now, and hears my comment about how another boy is in his spot so she switches around the name cards, and then again walks away. I stand there a minute, make sure he's fine, and leave. But I want to cry? Is she really taking care of him and his needs on this first day of a new thing? Is she making sure he's ok, feels confident, safe?

So now what? Do I say something to her? Do I explain to her that he had a rough time in preschool and that it's very important to me that he have a great start here? That it's important to me that he want to be there? That I need her to do the best she can to help make that happen? Nurturuing, encouraging, enthusiastic, motivating? Do I say something today? Tomorrow? Next week? Do I talk to the principal again about switching teachers? Is that too traumatic for my child? Do I just let it go and hope for the best? Is it just me who needs my hand held?

Any other grade, I would say, Make lemonade out of lemons, this is a life lesson in how to get along with people you may not like a whole lot. But for kindergarten? No. This is his introduction to the next 12 years of his life. And it's important to me that it's a good one. So please pardon the mama-lion coming out in me. This is, after all, my first born child. And I'm new to this too.

Can anyone offer any help? Comments? Thoughts? Suggestions? Please?

Thank you.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Sometime you win...

And sometimes you don't.

But today was mostly a "win" day, I think. Minus a few bumps in the road.

It started out with me waking up with some pretty healthy neck pain. (Not a win) I have been having neck pain for about a month. Now it's on the other side. Oh well.

Neck pain does not make for a cheerful person. (Not a win) But I got over it (Win) when my darling Hubba Hubba woke up crabby as usual (Not a win) and I was determined not to let him stay crabby, so I became sickeningly sweet and un-crabby. (Win!) This worked in my favor when I reminded him that it was his idea that I wait until Monday (today) to take our eldest shopping for school clothes (an absolute must!). Since it was his idea, despite the fact that he was inwardly cursing himself, he found it hard to argue. (Win!!!!!)

I didn't have to make lunch (WIN!!!!) as we had a family picnic at the park with my extended family. I did, however, fork over 8 bucks for a bag of chips and some ranch dip at the gas station (NOT a win) since our small town has no grocery store. (The trade-off of small town living.)

Went shopping with my little boy, got one on one mama-son time. (Win). Found a pair of shoes he liked or could be talked into liking. (Win) His excited, happy expression when he tried on a pair of jeans he actually liked and gasped "Oh, mom, look!" (WiiiiiiiiiNNNNN!!!!) Leaving The Children's Place with 2 pairs of nice jeans, a long sleeve T, a pair of shoes and only $45 lighter. (WIN!)(Score!)

Baby asleep when mama came home. (WINWINWINWIN)

And supper.

s i  i  i  i  i  i i i i igh.

Well, when baby D woke up from his nap, he was having a tantrum in his crib before I even got up there. (So NOT a win) As long as I was holding him, he was great. But I had to make supper. So he screamed bloody murder for the better part of an hour and a half (suck-o not a win-o), minus the few times I could pick him up, between washing pans to cook in, and making meatballs (totally a two-handed project). But... (pause)(smile) .... when everyone was finally seated...

A h h h h h . . . .  b l i s s.

There was much chomping and slurping and humming and "yummm"-ing and "this is so good, mom" and "you make really good suppers mom" and "can I have more (a third helping) of noodles?" (What a WIN!)

Even Lil'D ate all his. And was QUIET! Thank. the. Lord.

And to make it even better, it was kind of healthy. (Win). Parmesan buttered noodles (whole-grain spaghetti). Meatballs (half turkey, half beef). Garlic bread (with actual garlic on it).

But everyone was happy. ('cept me cuz I only got one meatball.) And that's what makes it the best "win" of all!

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Like father like son

What were YOU doing at 9:30 last night?
Someone insisted on being outside with his dad until well after his bedtime,
helping to get the boat ready.

This one insisted on being outside too. And entertained us with her funny faces.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

You will?

Why didn't I figure this out a long time ago?

When potty training, you teach so much more than how to go on the pot. There's pulling up pants, putting down the lid, flushing, washing hands, and the dreaded wiping.

Toddlers should never be allowed to wipe themselves. Ever. Period.

Miss Cheeks, however, has voluntarily and independently taken on this task, without asking how I felt about it.

It scares me.

Finally (and I know you potty training moms will think I'm crazy for reverse training her) I have gotten her to ASK for me to do it. So now, she does the beloved, "MOM, I'M DONE!" at the top of her lungs until I arrive.

But she hasn't gotten down the close, flush, wash thing yet. So we're working on it.

Cheeks: Mommy, I wanna wipe myself.
Me: That's ok, I'll do it.
Cheeks: But I want to.
Me: Well, I'll let you flush the toilet, ok?
Cheeks: You WILL??
Me: Yes, I will! (smiles)
Cheeks: You will?
Me: I will.
Cheeks: OK. (and she flushes. Halleluja!)

Why didn't I think to use reverse psychology on her for this earlier?

Uuuuuuhhhhhhh...... dunno.

What a wonderful mommy moment. Ahhhhhhhhh

Aren't you so glad you read this, she asks, while letting out a sinister little laugh.