Circles

So the project was to redo the kids rooms over their Christmas vacation. They received new bed sets for Christmas. Great no problem. All I have to do is paint. We also bought a new bunk bed for Child #1 and Child #3. Child #2 is getting her own room. You may ask why is Child #2 getting her own room? Well my first response would be that Child #1 opted out of having her own room. But, it really stems from who causes the trouble at night while everyone is trying to sleep. Even though Child #2 causes the most trouble, she is the only one who is a neat freak. In my favor, I would prefer her to have her own room because at least one room would stay clean. And to the credit of Child #2, Child #1 and Child #3 do not want to sleep alone in a bedroom either. In a perfect world, we have a solution.

Anyway back to redoing the bedrooms. We bought a bunk bed so that the two sharing a room would have more room. In the past, we had three beds in one room. When they were little, none of them wanted a bunk bed because no one wanted to sleep on the top. Now Child #1 is willing to sleep on the top so we decided it would be a great space saver.

Off to the paint store to buy some paint. To try to make their room fun, I decided I would try to match the pattern from their comforter. 

First mistake. Don't ever try to match patterns. Make sure to go with just a solid color.

I had to paint one wall with primer since I had a dark color on it. There goes the first coat. Then I paint all the walls one color. No problem everything goes fairly smooth. Then comes the patterns. I figure, I will trace the shapes on the wall with a washable marker. 

Second mistake. Never use a marker to outline patterns. Even if it is a washable marker and a light color. It will show up no matter what.

In order to try to cover up the lines, I primed the shapes on the wall. So now I'm up to the third layer of paint. Then I begin to fill in the shapes with the intended colors. The plan was supposed to be just simple dots, big and small, in different colors spread over the wall.


Third mistake. My obsessive need to have things done the right way. The lines were bothering me. So the design became more intricate to cover up the lines.


The results after four days of painting.

Granted, during those four days we were busy doing other activities like going down to Chicago to see my grandma, visiting my dad in the hospital after his surgery, and ice skating with my younger brother and the girls. So I spent my afternoons and evenings working on the room. I managed to get the room set up and finished like I promised the girls by tonight. Miracles of miracles I was able to complete my promise.

Now I am onto Child #2's remodel. I'll give myself a break and wait to start that one tomorrow. It shouldn't take as long, but that is what I said about this room.


Happy New Year!

To Believe or Not to Believe

We went to 10pm mass on Christmas Eve this year. This was our last ditch effort to get Child #1 to still believe in Santa. The girls got in the car while I hung back and quickly placed the gifts under the tree from Santa. When we came home, they were so surprised we let them open up all the presents. Not exactly sure if Child #1 truly believes, but she was so excited to finally get a Nintendo DS that she didn't say one word about Santa not being real. This truly will probably be the last Christmas she believes or half believes. So sad to reach this milestone with her. If only they could stay innocent forever.

St. Mom to the rescue or maybe the cover up. You decide.

So at 7:00am on December 6, I get a finger poke in the middle of the back (and its not just a little poke saying hey wake up, it's one of those pokes with attitude). I roll over to eye which one it is.

Child #1 says in a hushed, but firmly angered voice, "You forgot to put out the St. Nick presents."

My response is, "You are right. I sure did." Technically this was not supposed to be my responsibility. I did not celebrate St. Nick while growing up, but my husband did and he wanted to continue his tradition. It was in agreement that he would take on the responsibility. But of course, he was out of town last night. I bought the gifts. I remembered the night before, but while I was waiting for the girls to fall asleep, I fell asleep. Imagine that.

Now understand Child #1 already has figured it out that there is no Santa, Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, etc. (Thanks to all the other wonderful children at school who can't keep a secret). Oh well, but we've made it clear she has to play along with Child #2 and Child #3.

Of course, Child #2 and Child #3 wake up and run for the stockings. My mind is going a mile a minute. I am running scenarios through to figure out what one sounds the best.

The one that wins and here it goes...

"Mom St. Nick forgot to leave us presents," with such disappointed faces and stuck out lower lips.

My response oozes a matter of fact tone, "Well, you know guys, St Nick and I were talking last night about how kids just don't really appreciate gifts anymore. We were talking for awhile so he got distracted and forgot to put them in the stockings. But he left them under my bed, so you guys go potty and I will bring out the gifts and put them in your stockings."

With all their excitement that they were getting gifts and St. Nick hadn't forgotten them, they totally bought it.

I have to say it wasn't the best excuse, but it was perfect when Child #3 opens her gift and says, "That's it. That's all we get."

Of course that is where I shake my head and say, "See this is exactly what St. Nick and I were talking about children just don't appreciate what they get for gifts anymore."

Boy did that change Child #3's attitude toward what she got. She was overly appreciative after that.

I've heard stranger things, but this one is up there

I had a friend tell me a story about another mom telling her daughter to go put lip gloss on before she left the house. And when the child who is nine years old asks why the mother's answer is "because your lips should always look glossy."

You could analyze this until the cows came home, but I'm going to go off on some tangents first. This got me thinking about my childhood.

My mom dreamed about dressing her only daughter in the frilly dresses with two perfect braids tied with pretty bows, but instead she got the daughter that wanted to wear her hair loose and play soccer with the boys (dresses didn't always work out). Now my mom never critiqued me on anything I wore or told me she didn't like what I was wearing, but I knew at certain times she didn't care for my style and would prefer something more girly. Not that she didn't teach me the basics about fashion or other girl things,  but I had a mind of my own and chose to implement what I thought was best for me. I have a point so bear with me.

If you can push the time travel button and hop back to when you were in 4th or 5th grade (about 1985) when the Punky Brewster era was in full blast, I had a pair of red stir up pants, yellow shimmery button down long dress shirt, and two layered socks to match. At the time I thought that outfit was the coolest thing, but looking back on it I probably looked like the ketchup and mustard on a hotdog. No one ever said anything about that outfit (I understand kids are crueler today), not my friends, not my brothers, not my mom.  Maybe people talked behind my back, but I was in a blissfully happy world and never new if they did or didn't. Even an old friend from Kindergarten still remembers our first day on the bus together and what I was wearing. I actually didn't remember what I was wearing, but she reminded me I had on a pair of red corduroy overalls (to this day I still wear a lot of red, I love it). Even back then red corduroy overalls weren't cool, but she became my friend anyway. My point here is people will like you for who you are and not what you wear.

As long as it is weather appropriate and age appropriate, I never tell my girls what to wear. Even when a plaid skirt is worn with a poka dotted shirt and striped tights. Now my mom has changed her views because she constantly is trying to get my kids to match their clothes, but they've learned that when we go to see grandma they put on matching clothes (at home they revert back to what they want to wear). No matter what I tell my three girls (with three completely different personalities and fashion styles) they are going to still choose their own style (the apples don't fall far from the tree). Whether your child hates to wear lip gloss or likes to wear soft pants instead of jeans, why not let them?


As for the mother insisting on the lip gloss, I don't know if she is looking to bring back the Donna Reid era, but are we any different than she is?

Whether you're a parent pushing your child hard in a sport or a parent telling your child they have to wear a certain name brand of clothing, aren't we all looking for the same thing? For our children to fit in, but are we going to far? Yes. I believe parents today are the problem (I've witness some parents do some pretty extreme things to make sure their kid was part of the crowd). If our child isn't perfect in the public's eye, we try to make them conform to be like everyone else or to be normal. What the hell is normal anyway?

I am definitely far from the perfect mother, but I will measure my parenting success on if my children find their inner happiness and become confident in who they are and not what someone tells them they should be. I have a lot of confidence to share (Nik and Mike, I know you're smiling on that one) so I hope to lead by example. Only time will tell.

Handyman Syndrome

As most of you know, my husband is pretty handy when it comes to fixing things. So installing a new garbage disposal shouldn't be too hard. Right? Really how hard can it be? 

First things first, my husband proceeds to take out the old one while I hold the flashlight. Really not as easy as the Youtube video showed (according to him it never is), but after strings of creative cursing and my flawless moral support (still holding the flashlight), he managed to pry the sucker loose.

Now off to the store to buy a new one.

After perusing Menards and running into another family we knew (this happens a lot in our city), we found one that would be a good replacement (Ah, my area of expertise, using the credit card).

Instillation went a little smoother minus the electrical hook up (note: hook up electrical before installing the disposal unless you're a contortionist with small hands), but my husband managed it with his big hands (give yourself an extra 15 minutes).  Now with my expert flashlight holding and handing tools to him, I think I've become well versed (not an expert, but knowledgeable) in the garbage disposal instillation business. It appears pretty straight forward.   

Hot tip for the week. When installing a new garbage disposal, make sure you read all the directions. Apparently when you don't knock the plug out of the dishwasher inlet hole and then you run your dishwasher, the water doesn't have anywhere to go. You may find water exploding out the discharge valve, but just wait it will soon hit the floor and start spreading everywhere. 

Now I'm really ready to install a garbage disposal by myself:)

Lunch Boredom

This entry will be a boring one, but I had to share anyway. I am extremely bored with sandwiches for lunch these days so I've been eating soup instead.

Well today I was out of soup so I had to improvise. I grabbed an avocado (make sure it is nice and ripe), cut it up and mushed it on two pieces of bread (I used whole grain double fiber bread). Usually I'm a butter kind of gal, but the avocado was awesome. Just enough of a flavor change not to bore me. Plus it filled me up and I was able to get one of the super foods into my body for the day.

If you aren't familiar with the super food category, I will list a few:

Blueberries
Walnuts
Avocados
Salmon (not farm raised)
Spinach
Broccoli

The famous To-Do-List

Wednesday
Everyone has one and no one wants to do them. The big To-Do-Lists. I have to write one out every week so I can maximize my efficiency. As a kid, I remember how cool it would be to be an adult. I would be able to drive, have my own place,  hang out with my friends and enjoy life (basically not have to listen to my parents, right?). On the other hand, I was a pretty realistic kid, my parents did prepare me well for working hard in the real world (pulling brush, wheel barreling wood chips, splitting wood with a sledgehammer and a wedge--not an easy task if you've ever split wood, digging up sod, moving rocks--Child Labor Laws? Anyone? Anyone?), but I did like to dream a lot. In my futuristic dream world, it didn't include To-Do-Lists.

I try to plan out my week so I only have to run errands on one day (you know less gas, less wasted time). Can you tell I like to be efficient? Anyway I set out to do my list on a cold raining Wednesday morning.  I head to the bank then off to Kohl's (I can't let that 30% off coupon go to waste). Did I mention I am driving my husband's truck? I have to take it in for an emission test. Of course the tank is almost empty so I head for the gas station. Next I go to Target to pay a bill. Last on the list is the emissions place., which is in Milwaukee so it's a little further than I go on most of my days out (about 20 minutes from where we live). The distance isn't my problem it's the fear of my husband's truck breaking down on the freeway (the truck has seen it's better days, but it still chugs along). Which makes me think the truck might not even pass the test, but what the heck I like living on the edge or maybe that's defying authority.

So I make it to the emissions place no problem except (I know you were waiting for that but...) the place is closed. Out of all the other days of the week, the one day that they are closed is Wednesday. What the hell? Is this the governments new way of saving money to close on a Wednesday? What about giving the employees two consecutive days off? Like try Sunday and Monday not Sunday and Wednesday.  Yes, I know I should've checked online, but I was pretty sure Wednesday would be a safe day. Lesson learned except my whole week is blown now I will have to go back tomorrow. The whole saving on gas and time went up in smoke.

Thursday
Good news. The truck passed. We are good for another two years. Yay!

Middle Child Worries

Child #2 says, "Mom, all the movies are either about love or have a happy ending."

I say, "What a great observation. You are right."

Now her observation is a little bias considering I don't let her watch too many bad movies that don't have happy endings. And my answer is the mama bear trying to keep the big bad world of reality at the front door. But I know sooner or later the front door is going to unlock and open. Well, I would say it has already been unlocked, but not quite open yet. I try to give them as much reality as I can without scaring them.

At six, Child #2 appears to be very intuitive and observant. Hell, I don't even know if I would've made that observation at six (I was the middle child and understand everything Child #2 goes through even though I'm the water and she's the oil). I am completely floored by her comment.

Of course, my mind goes into overdrive. What does this mean? Is she beyond her years already? What career choice would be good for? Will she find a job that will use her skills to the best of her ability? She probably would be great as a scientist. (Don't judge me on this because you know you all do it when your kid does something amazing. You go down that line "Oh he'll be a great doctor or what a savvy lawyer she'll make).

On the flip side, this could be bad for the teenage years. Then a sudden flash of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde comes to mind. The scary mad scientist creating something bad for the world. She already knows how to maneuver and manipulate her sisters into to doing what she wants them to do. Child #2 has a strategic mind where she usually is already two steps ahead of what you are thinking. If scientist doesn't pan out, maybe we can focus her energy on cards. Her dad can start grooming her to play poker for a back up plan. Hey don't laugh. Everyone needs a back up plan.    

Christmas Cards

Oh what to do for a Christmas card this year? I can't stomach doing the same boring old card with the standardized pose again. The girls are too old for the same dress thing too. My mom didn't pick out their Christmas dresses this year so I took the girls shopping to pick their own out. I did say no to a few they were thinking about (too ugly and not appropriate), but overall they chose different dresses that I liked. My mom might not be so happy, but I do believe it is important to allow them to express their individual style. Let's face it I have three completely different personalities on my hands (and sometimes a few extra personalities come out to play. Just kidding). They get to choose whatever they want to wear everyday (as long as it is age and weather appropriate) even if it doesn't match. Yes, I'm the mom that allows her child to wear a plaid skirt with pink snowman tights and a striped top in all different colors because this is what makes her happy. And when my children are happy, I am happy:) So please don't stare unless you have something nice to say.

Anyway back to the Christmas card thing. I have an idea, but I better get my but in gear before the snow starts to fly. To be continued... 

Are You There Patience? It's me Mom in need of a...

I had a great morning. I jogged seven miles. Now I do realize that most people are probably going to groan after they've read seven miles( I am going to try a half marathon in the Spring). I can hear it already. Yes I jogged seven miles, but I do enjoy it on a different level. To put it simply, it's therapy. This is a time where I can reflect (or possibly over analyze my behavior, my life in general and other people's behavior in my mind and not be interrupted by nonstop chattering, the phone ringing or a blinking cursor staring at me). It's just me and the road. Well and my music. Hey, it's a lot cheaper than paying lots a money to a stranger that has no idea what it's like to be me. Right?

Well I digress. So after the seven miles, I felt great and refreshed ready for the rest of my afternoon. Then my three children come home from school and the battle of homework begins. Our routine for the Fall season after school every evening is homework, dinner, soccer, showers, and bed (in that order). And this basically takes up the whole evening (I can't wait for the Fall soccer season to be done, only two more weeks).   

Now that you have the background, this Tuesday afternoon wasn't as routine as I wanted it to be.

I informed Child #1 that she needed to start memorizing the "Apostle Creed" prayer (hard one if you don't know it) from her CCD class for Sunday. This is when everything went down hill. The crying, the whining, the irrational yelling and rolling on the floor came into play (don't forget she is eight years old now). Did I mention she doesn't like change or CCD class? Well the questions started, "Why do I have to go Sunday school? I hate Sunday School. Dad said I didn't have to go anymore. Why mom? Why mom? I hate Sunday school." Now she was repeating this over and over again. Nothing I said was consoling her or calming her down. After about twenty minutes of this I had enough and I got mad. I started throwing out the standard answers "because I said so" and "I'm the parent and you will do what I will tell you to do." Of course this didn't help any because when I informed Child #2 she had to memorized the "Our Father" prayer, I had two irrational children on my hands only because Child #2 loves to copy Child #1's behavior (Child #2 actually likes CCD, but she always puts on a show for her older sister). You have to love sibling dynamics.

Anyway, I pull out the big card, "I'm calling Daddy and you will have to talk to him." Then the crying and whining gets louder. Unfortunately, this didn't work so well for me since Daddy was traveling and we kept losing him on his cell phone (figures). My last possible threat came out as "If you don't do this, you won't be going to the Halloween dance on Friday." More crying and whining, but they calmed down enough to at least start the first sentence of the prayer. Then I offered to use the memorizing time towards their required reading time for school. This seemed to work except now, I hadn't made dinner and soccer practice was getting closer and all I wanted to do was take a nap. I was ready to cry myself. I was exhausted.

After running seven miles, I feel refreshed. After arguing with an eight year old and a six year old, I was completely exhausted.

How could this be? Impossible. Right?

On the bright side of things, during all this chaos Child #3 quietly colored and stayed out of the way. On the dark side of things, in the near future it will be three against one. I'm in trouble. God help me (Ooh another reason we have to go to church. I will have to write that down).

So Child #1 was late to practice and I still had to make dinner and finish out the evening. Then do it all over again the next day.

Woohoo! Schools In!

First day of school starts tomorrow. My children are ready and so am I. They will be all in one school, same schedule, same times. Yeah!

Dog Sitting or Dog Missing

My children have been begging for a dog for the last three years, but I've kept them at bay. The main reason I don't want to get a dog is because I don't want to have to board the dog when we go on vacation. This is a minor detail for some, but for me I've never boarded a dog before. And I always had a dog when I was growing up. Therefore, my children should have a dog too. Well maybe that isn't a great reason, but Child #1 would really benefit from having a dog. So her dream might be coming true, my dad is retiring in February and he will take the responsibility of watching the dog when we go on vacation. No more excuses after February.

Ironically an opportunity came up, we were given a chance to watch a small dog while her owner went to Ireland on vacation. Brandy, the dog, is a sweet, calm, laid back small dog. We've been watching her since Sunday and not once has she barked. She loves to be pet and go for walks. My husband has admitted if every dog was like Brandy, we would've had a dog a long time ago. She is such a good dog. Such a good dog that you forget she's even there. 

Today, my parents stopped over to go over some yard changes I'm trying to make so we were hanging out in the backyard on the deck talking. Then Child #1 comes outside with the dog and hangs out with us for a few minutes. It's a nice day. Not too hot. Not too cold. What a great afternoon. Child #1 goes back inside the house and my parents have to go. Child #2, #3, and me walk my parents to their car. Then I yell for Child #1 to come out and say goodbye to her grandparents.

Then I noticed, she didn't have the dog with her. It all came back to me the dog was left on the deck. I freaked out. I yell for the girls to start looking for Brandy. We were all looking for the dog. And all I can think about is how we lost the most easiest dog to watch in the world. After several minutes of searching frantically, Child #3 finds her two houses over happy as can be. I released my breath and wiped my forehead. We missed that possible tragic ending by a few minutes.

Maybe we aren't ready to have a dog yet. But the girls are very attentive most of the time to her. Decisions, decisions.

Relative Kindness

After our first trip to Michigan and then again on our trip to Yellowstone this summer, it appears there is a trend forming.

First, in Michigan Child #1 decides to make a little experiment out of the bathroom door. "What will happen if I lock the bathroom door and then close it behind me?"

Oh I don't know, "IT WON'T OPEN."

Well guess what, the door is locked and no one can get in. This is a bathroom door and there is no key for it. Okay, I take a deep breath and ask my Aunt for a screw driver so I can take the handle off, open the door and then put the handle back on. No problem right? Wrong!

The handles comes off, but the locking mechanism is still stuck in the door. It's too long to slip it out. I'm trying to use everything possible to unlock the mechanism. By this time, my Aunt has asked a few people to stop and help. Basically the whole campground is over trying to get this lock thing out. Finally, a knife and screw driver leverage the lock enough (without too much damage to the door frame) to slip it out. Needless to say I was getting a little nervous I wasn't going to be able to fix this.


Then coming back from our trip out West, we stayed at my brother's house one night. Child #3 decides to sit on the toilet seat while brushing her teeth. Except she sits down on just the right angle and then slips busting the toilet seat off the hinges and breaking it completely. Have to love them.

This is why there is no reason to fix things until the kids are close to moving out (we have about thirteen more years to go).You may want to think twice before allowing us to come over. I try to keep them at bay, but it doesn't always work.

Westward Skies

Apparently dry heat and high elevations does nothing for my cardiovascular system. It takes the hot, sticky Midwestern humidity to knock my lungs out while jogging. Coming off of a very active vacation really didn't boost my endurance any. Actually I feel like I fell back a notch. However, it was well worth the time off from the usual routine. I'm not complaining just noting the difference in weather. I miss the West and some day I will return.

Competitive or Addicted

Once you go 80 it's hard to stop.

When I'm on a mission to get somewhere, I admit I take advantage. I get why race car drivers get addicted to the speed. Adrenaline kicks in and you just want to get home or to your final destination. Or maybe it's the competitive nature in me that doesn't want anyone to pass me. Nah. Anything below 80 feels like a snail's pace anyway. Oh well, home safe and sound from our 5,100 mile trip.

Onto the next adventure...

Physical Exertion Needed

Okay, so I am fully aware my children are spoiled with activities (daily swimming, bike riding, play dates, boating, tubing, sleepovers, sports, etc.). My husband tells me it's my own fault for keeping them busy so I get no sympathy from my other half. I do not spoil them with things just my attention (Child #2 has been asking for two years for a DS--I am very proud that I can say our house is DS free). I leave the materialistic things up to the grandparents, which is there job anyway (at least for their generation because my grandparents certainly didn't spoil my brothers and me while growing up). 

Anyway this morning I wanted to do one thing for myself, go for a jog while they road their bikes. This way I wouldn't have to have anyone watch them while I worked out. Granted, it was eighty degrees. But it is was earlier in the morning and wouldn't be too bad because they would be riding their bikes.

As they get on their bikes and I am ready to jog, my father-in-law pulls up to drop off a weed wacker and a hedge trimmer that I asked to borrow. He was nice enough to drop them off instead of me driving to get them after my jog. So he's showing me how to use the weed wacker and Child # 2 starts complaining "it's too hot mom, can't we go now mom, let's go now mom" and Child #1 starts to whine because she can't find her helmet.

Apparently I needed this jog bad because after my father-in-law leaves, I flip out on the two whining kids. I tell them to go in the house and sit in the nice air conditioned house. We are not going to go for a bike ride. They are so selfish that they can't do one little thing for me when I do so much for them. I tell them I am going to do yard work instead.

I start with the hedge trimming. After trimming six bushes, I decide I don't like the bushes anymore. I ended up digging up four of the bushes, the roots and all. I used a pick axe thing to get the roots up so I exerted some manual labor. Covered in dirt and sweat, I felt a whole bunch better.

Well, hopefully the next time I ask them to go for a bike ride while I jog they will do it so I don't try to dig up a tree or something else.

Things happen in Threes

Things happen in threes. Right?

Two weeks ago, our sewer backed up a little. No problem. I caught it early enough and called a plumber to snake the pipes.

Today the hot water heater busted. Ironically, my husband just threw out a good hot water heater at our new property two days ago.

What will be the third thing to go? I shouldn't jinx myself. Oh well, my thoughts are always so hard to hold back.

The Screaming Ripple Effect

Six days ago, I had to get some paperwork done and get ready for the closing on a house, but my children were complaining they were bored and wanted to do something. So I got this great idea about setting up the slip'n slide outside. The girls were in their swimsuits and barefoot. I was connecting the hose when I noticed Child #3 kneeling down on the driveway looking down at the ground. Well, Child #1 was curious too. Finishing up with the slide, I was interrupted with a high pitched scream, "MOM, THERE'S BLOOD. OH MY GOD! THERE'S A LOT OF BLOOD. MOM. MOM. MOM." Then another high pitched scream with no words just screams from Child #3.

I quickly ran over to see what all the craziness was about. Child #3 stubbed her toe (took the whole layer of skin off the top of her big toe). I picked her up and set her down on a chair on the porch. Remember the screaming was still going on. I calmed down Child #1, but #3 is still hysterical (I have to admit there was a lot of blood, but Child #1 was taking the hysteria a little too far. It's not like she hasn't seen blood before). I ran inside to grab a wet paper towel and a band aid. The neighbors probably just love me with hysterical screaming children left outside. I come back out clean up the wound and put a big band aid on. Then carrier her inside. She's crying, but not screaming anymore.

Great timing right? I was a little upset and told Child #3 she can't go barefoot or wear flip flops ever again. Knowing this was really an unrealistic expectation (Child #3 tends to trip a lot). but she agreed to it. Of course, I still had to finish setting up the slip'n slide and get my paperwork and make the closing time.

After a day of the band aid, I took it off to let the wound air out a little. Later in the afternoon, I had to go to the store. So everyone got their shoes on and we were off. After we came home Child #3 takes off her tennis shoe and started screaming again. There was blood seeping through her sock. (Damn it, I forgot to put a band aid back on before she put her sock on). Okay no problem I can fix this except when she tried to take her sock off, the blood had dried a little and the sock was stuck to her toe. This didn't help the screaming one bit. Into the bathtub we go to soak the sock to get it off. It worked, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to hear out of my left ear again. 

Ironically two days later, we headed out to Michigan for our annual camping trip. About half way through the trip, we stop for a restroom break. Everything's all good until Child #2 calmly says to Child #3, "I think your toe is bleeding again."

Child #3 looked down and started crying and screaming again. Sure enough, it soaked through her sock again. We get in the car and she tried to take it off, but it was stuck again. At this point, I just want to get to our destination. So I have her elevate her foot making her comfortable as possible and when we get to the campground we'll soak it again.

We make it to Aunt Marty's and I carry her in. Child #3 screams bloody murder when I try to put her toe in the bathtub. I think she's going to be traumatized for the rest of her life. I force her foot in the water and the sock falls off. It took two more days before the toe healed. What a disaster. All over a stubbed toe. Well at least we know Child #1 will never be a doctor or a nurse.

Driving in Circles or...Talking in Circles

An hour and half into our trip to Michigan Child #2 starts complaining,

"Mom this is taking too long. This is longer than the long way around."

Going through the UP takes us nine hours compared to seven and half hours going through Chicago. And try to picture a whiny complaining tone with a few sobs in between. It makes her complaints even more entertaining.
 
"You are going in circles mom. I know you are going in circles. I just saw that same sign five minutes ago. I know you are going in circles mom. When are we going to get there? It's taking too long. See I saw that same sign again. Stop driving in circles mom. You should've gone the long way mom."

This one sided conversation repeated itself several times over a seven and half period of time. Child #2 finally calmed down and was excited to be at our destination. The most entertaining part for me was the next day when Child #2 tells me, "Thanks mom for bringing us here. I just love it here. I really love it."

And thanks to Aunt Marty and Uncle Tom for allowing us to come up every year to visit. This year was the best year yet. See you in August.

Shoving before dawn

Usually when the alarm goes off, I smack or shove (or whatever works) my husband to get him out of bed to go to work. Occasionally, my husband gets up and turns off the alarm and falls back asleep that goes to say I also fall back asleep. Obviously, this makes him late for work.

Yesterday, the alarm goes off. He gets up and I fall back asleep. My husband has always left early, but recently he's been getting up at 4:00am to go to work. So I feel it's a closer to a normal time of waking up and I open one eye to realize the sun is peeking through the blinds. Then I realize that there's still a warm body next to me. I think Oh Shit. He's going to be really late for work. I shove him with my shoulder, pushing him kind of hard only to open my other eye to see that it's Child #1 sleeping next to me and now she's on the floor. It's probably a good thing she was still sleeping. Apparently my strength in the morning is stronger than I thought.

Note to self: Open both eyes before shoving.

Borders

So when you lift up the seats in your car, what do you find?

I find chewed gum stuck in a crack I can't even get my finger into. I find a pound of goldfish crackers and crumbs everywhere. I find suckers with a tiny bit of candy still stuck on the stick, which is stuck to the carpeted floor of the car. I find juice boxes crumpled up. I find wrappers of all kinds of food and candy.

Now the real question is...why don't ants ever find their way into your car when you have all these things on the floor?

But in your house you sweep everyday and mop once a week (okay I know more like once a month. Give me a break I do a lot of spot cleaning. My house is way cleaner than the car at least with the food part.) and ants can still find their way into my house?

Of course, I have no problems spraying the borders of possible entrance ways into my house which does solve the problem, but it still makes me wonder about the car.

Speedy

My favorite part about working out is when it is over I can take a nice relaxing shower. Today I hopped into the shower only to have a nice big fuzzy spider crawling up the wall next to the shower curtain. Since it was moving away from me, I was willing to let it live while I washed up. No problem. Right?

Cold weather or warm weather, the spiders love to come inside. It amazes me every year, but I guess that's the price you pay to live by a lake.

So I continue with my shower, except I keep glancing outside the shower curtain to see where it is. I couldn't find him. Then I freak out thinking it came back into the shower. I look around . No spider, but I spot him moving really fast almost like it was being chased by (what chases a spider, oh I got it) a paper towel ready to squish it. By the time I finish up my shower, the spider (let's call him Speedy) has already done a full lap around the ceiling of the entire bathroom.

Now Speedy has caught my attention. I have a heart so I let him continue his laps around the ceiling. I've never seen a spider move so much. Usually they stop and take a break, but not my Speedy he keeps going and going.

I finally finish getting dressed. At this point, I counted about seven laps around the ceiling. If I didn't have to go pick up Child# 3 and my nephew, I might have watched Speedy finish out his marathon race. The end was near for poor Speedy, but I think he knew it too. He stopped running when the paper towel was catching up to him. Well at least, Speedy had a good run. Have a great day!

Birthdays: Who's counting?

My birthday started out great. The girls cleaned up their bedrooms, I went running, we grilled out. After a few Twisted Teas, I was feeling pretty good. Then the bomb drops. Child #1 (2nd grader) has to finish her book report that is due tomorrow. I must've told her for the last two weeks that she needed to finish. Of course, she chose to ignore me and wait to the last minute. Why must teachers give homework that children need so much help with? With my anger comes sobriety and I suck it up. In order to help her, I have to quickly read the 80 page chapter book "Witches Don't Do Backflips" to figure out what she has to write about. I have to say it was a cute book, but not exactly what I wanted to be doing on Memorial Day. It didn't help that it was almost 90 degrees outs and I wanted to be outside not inside doing a book report. The rule from now on will be to do book reports two weeks before they are due.

Running in Circles

I am sick of the cold from keeping me from exercising outside. On top of that the kids are home because of one of those fun home days from school. My choices were running on the treadmill or running in circles at the park's parking lot. I don't know what's more boring. Okay so I chose to run in circles in the parking lot while the girls rode their bikes (great exercise for me and the girls). In addition, I couldn't listen to music because I had to make sure I could hear them if they needed me or a car was coming into the parking lot. This isn't exactly how I like to run, but as a "mom" (a compromising, under appreciated door mat) it is part of the job, which I enjoy about 70% of the time. Of course this arrangement only lasts about twenty minutes when Child #2 wants to go home because she is bored. I was able to push her another ten minutes before the complaining was unbearable and she started to whine about being cold. Back to the house I go. At least I got thirty minutes in.

Drill confusion

Our first day of 80 degree weather this year actually landed on a weekend day. What a miracle. The kids were in shorts, riding their bikes, and having fun with the water from the hose. As the evening progresses, the weather turns to thunderstorm conditions. Nothing out of the normal considering this is Wisconsin. We were inside watching a movie when the tornado alarm goes off. Understand that the tornado horn is actually located at the park across the street from our house. This makes the sound extremely loud so it always scares the kids, even when the practice alarm goes off every Saturday at noon, except it wasn't Saturday and it wasn't noon.

Dad jumps up and says lets head downstairs. The girls jump off the couch. I start gathering water bottles to take downstairs with us. Suddenly the front door opens and slams shut. Child #1 starts screaming (And I mean screaming) Child #2's name. I head for the door yelling at Child #2 to get back in the house. Because Child #1 is screaming so loud she can't hear me. I open the door trying to get past Child #1 to run after Child #2. All I see is this little body running faster than I've ever seen her run before toward the street. I finally got out the door yelling at her to stop. Before I got off the porch, she stopped at the edge of the street and turns around to look at me just as a large pick up truck passes by. I had a heart attack. She could've been hit by that truck.  She came back into the house and we all went downstairs.

To child #2's credit, the school has been emphasizing fire drills. Apparently they need to start practicing the tornado drills too.

The funny thing is Child #2 was so focused when she was running, but had no concern for anything other than herself. At least, she knew what to do for a fire drill. It is interesting to see how my children react in a stressful situation.

Curious Questions

Since our chipmunk experience, there has been a lot of talk about chipmunks. Most have been very normal questions. For example, Where did Dad put the chipmunks? (Outside) Will the chipmunks be okay once they are outside? (Of course, they will be free).  I'm not sure that they quite understood the chipmunks were dead, but we didn't dwell on any of the details. It was best to just change the subject.

Anyway, it was my Grandma's birthday today. She turned 86 years old. We went down to Chicago to take her out to lunch and hang out with for the day.

Lunch was going well. The girls were behaving so far. Good conversation with additional relatives that joined us. Of course, the conversation leans toward the chipmunks. So I tell the story about our furry friends and the girls start to get silly.

It never fails whenever we feed them they tend to get a burst of energy. In order to cut the out-of-control behavior, I take Child #2 and Child #3 to the bathroom.  

I've mentioned before that Child #2 will ask and say some strange things.

We enter the bathroom. There are two ladies washing their hands. I tell the girls to go to the bathroom and no talking.

Out of Child #2's mouth comes "Mom, I want to know what a chipmunk smells like."  Laughter escapes out of both stalls my two lovely children are in.

The shock in my face makes the two ladies giggle and exit the bathroom. I remind the girls "No talking and finish up."

Sticky Fingers times 3

Why is it that no matter how many pens I stock up on I never ever can find one pen when I need it?

The pens are strategically placed way back on the counter close to the phone. Maybe I need to make my kids wash their hands more often because it must be their sticky fingers that is the problem. I've tried to buy special pens for them and my still disappear. I've given them a big bin that holds their pens, markers and crayons, but my pens seem to still be attractive. I know this is a minor issue, but when it happens over and over again, it gets to me.

Man if I am having problems with pens right now, I can't imagine what it is going to be like when they will want to wear my clothes or...my shoes (UGH!, not my shoes).

Uninvited Guests

Working the most menial task of unloading the clothes from the washer to the dryer is like washing your hands after you go to the bathroom (at least for most women, apparently men don’t wash their hands very often).  You’re on autopilot except when a beady little eye is staring back at you and is attached to a light brown furry body that moves, not to mention it is only three feet away from you. Then the drama begins. It could jump at you and mull your face or it could jump from the window sill and into the ceiling grid and nestle itself in the insulation.  Thank God he (or she, I didn’t have time check the undercarriage) chose the latter.    

Your first thought must have been I had a friendly little mouse in my basement, but no. It was a chipmunk. Yes, a chipmunk. 

Now your second thought turns into a question. How does a chipmunk get into the basement?

At the time, I had no clue.  I ran upstairs and waited for the hubby to get home. Chipmunks are rodents. They carry disease and germs. For all I know, it could have rabies. Granted it wasn’t foaming at the mouth and it didn’t attack me, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I couldn’t even think of all the places it was touching down there.

Instead I went out to buy some rat traps so the hubby could set them up when he got home.

The hubby goes down stairs to assess the situation. A few minutes later, I hear a commotion and he yells up from downstairs to get a bucket.  I get a bucket and run it down only to find him chasing this chipmunk around the basement. Apparently, he’s been there for awhile because he is slowing down (lack of food and water), but still fast enough to evade the hubby. So I come up behind the hubby to hand him the bucket and I slowly back away only to realize I stepped on something. And it wasn’t hard either. It was mushy with fur. I jumped probably 20 feet (okay more like 2 feet and it’s possible a little scream slipped). Thank God, I had shoes on.

Okay so two chipmunks made it into the basement. One was dead and one was on the run. If there was any more, I was going to freak out.  I’m not usually scared of critters outside, but it’s different when they’re in your house.

It turns out only two made it into the basement. The funny thing is you would never guess how they made it in.

The dryer vent. Somehow they thought the hose was some kind of fun slide, but the fun ended when the hose lead into the dryer. Then their survival instinct kicked in and they chewed two different holes through the hose into the basement. The hubby changed the hose to metal and put some kind of screen cover on the vent outside. No more plastic for us and no more chipmunks.  

Three Fish

I love when I'm right. Then again, who doesn't love when they are right.

My children have grown used to doing special things with me and their dad. Unfortunately, they don't always appreciate these things. My hubby and I have resorted to cliches like 'you always want what you can't have' or 'the grass is always greener on the other side' because want more of everything.

So the one thing I absolutely love is swimming and I take the kids to an open swim at our gym on the weekends hoping they will love swimming as much as I do (they are getting there). For the last three weeks, I stopped taking them. I didn't mention it and I never brought it up.

This weekend they begged me to take them so I agreed to. Not once did I hear a complaint from any of them, not even Child #2 (the biggest complainer). They even were able to make at least one lap without my help. It might be only doggy paddling, but I want them to become stronger before I worry about technique. Including the youngest who is only four years old. I am so proud of my little fish.

Stuck like Glue

What do you try to get rid of all the time, but keeps coming back?


No it's not your husband or your kids.


How about another clue...

It clings to everything unless disturbed.

Okay, so you might have guessed its dust. I hate dusting because no matter how hard you try it is impossible to stop all particles from kicking back into the air. Then the process starts all over again. So far my best solution to this problem is to ignore it.

Signs of a Great Vacation

Gained weight:
Gaining 7.5 pounds in seven days that is a pound a day.

Burned:
Apparently, you need to put sunscreen inside your belly button. There is a burned ring around my belly button. It kind of looks like a tattoo.


Consumption:
You can't drink or eat anymore.


Children:
On the last day of the vacation, you realize you miss your children and can't wait to see them again. The airplane can't fly fast enough.

Go Pack Go!

Yeah, it's a good thing you (Packers) won tonight, I don't let my kids stay up this late for nothing.

So take that Bret Favre! Look where your stupidity got you. Hah!

Stick People

So I've been noticing the little figures people stick on the back of their cars lately. You know, where the little figures of the happy family (Dad, Mom, the number of children and pets) are holding hands on the back car window. Yes, they are cute, but it suddenly hit me that you are telling everyone how many people are in your family and the gender of your children. Now the next time you leave the mall the local pedophile can follow you home and stake out your house. Not exactly the safest thing to put on the back of your car.  Just a thought.

Euphoric High

The hill is approaching. She feels the hard pavement under her feet. Inhaling the cold air cools her lungs and burns when she exhales. Her heart is pounding, her muscles ache, everything hurts, but she pushes harder, increases speed to reach the euphoric high. Chanting to herself, "you can do it, you're almost there," over and over again until there is no other option except to finish. Reaching the top is only part of the game, the real test is to do it again, but faster. Pushing limits or setting goals, we all strive to accomplish.

Even athletic people hurt. I haven't ran in 20 degree weather in years. It was painful, but afterward I felt pretty good. Maybe I will try it again tomorrow if it isn't snowing (the treadmill is getting boring).

It's Always Something

I remember the days when I couldn't wait for the day I didn't have to buy another diaper or sippy cup. Well, those days have passed (I am very thankful), but now I am waiting for the days when there isn't a big gob of tooth paste spit in the sink. Twice a day, I am cleaning the sink.

Now this isn't as bad as sitting on a wet toilet seat (yes, little girls dribble on the toilet seat too). Make sure to look before sitting down. 

Both Sides

Now that I've been on both sides of the spectrum, working mom and stay at home mom, I've learned a lot about myself. Basically what everyone asks themselves at one time or another. What do I want out of life?

What I wanted in my twenties is definitely different than my thirties. It reminds me of the movie City Slickers when Billy Crystal is trying to find the meaning of life.

For me, it turns out that time is the most valuable possession. There's no fluctuation in time. It is set and there is no outside influence to change it. Twenty four hours, seven days a week that's all you get. No politician, no government, no one person can change this. Or at least won't change it in the near future.

When I was working, time was nothing but a battle for me. I was always racing the clock to see how much I could pack into a twenty four hour day. Kind of like a robot always trying to optimize and become more efficient. Never realizing what I was missing out on. Never cherishing the small things, always moving onto the next task. Looking back at it now, my objective for working was so I wouldn't loose my identity of who I was. But that was my identity in my twenties. My identity in my thirties changed. 

Realizing that if I hadn't gotten laid off, I would still be working and wouldn't have had the chance to reflect on things makes this all a blessing in disguise. Everything happens for a reason. And to continue with the cliches, always stop to smell the roses. Funny how time can give you clarity too.

I'm not trying to paint a perfect picture because there is no perfect picture (sorry to burst your bubble). If you know me, you know there are still arguments, yelling and screaming going on over disagreements, but I am extremely lucky and thankful to have the love of my life and three beautiful, healthy children surrounding me. So far, this is the happiest time of my life. And I mean the true happiness, the deep down, great feeling in your chest, surrounding your whole being happiness. I hope everyone gets to experience this one time or another.