Husbands can't win

   The big joke is that husbands say stupid things all the time.  TV shows love to exaggerate it. Wives like to compare notes and commiserate. It's not all of their faults. Well, I am sure part of it is some long turn brain damage from crazy stunts they pulled as kids but, I suspect the rest of the problem stems from us asking impossible questions with impossible answers.  Their brains start to over heat, trying to solve the riddle, and it melts and slowly oozes out of their ears, creating the perfect fertilizer for ear hair.
    What impossible questions you ask?  Let's talk about a typical Sunday morning.  I've rummaged through my clothes, wishing that I had found time to go shopping. I'm also wishing the I was one of those moms who bounced back right away, had a high metabolism, or any athletic ability. But we do not hate or envy, especially on Sunday. I put something on and turn to Stephen.......
   "Do I look ok? Are you sure? I don't know. Does it look tighter? I feel gross. Are you telling me the truth? Would you tell me if I didn't look ok? What? Why do you look mad? Ugh, look at my hair. Does this look ok? Did you look? I don't think you looked!"
   One Sunday, I had some sort of moment of clarity in the PMS haze and realized he had no way to answer. What did I expect? I wanted to hear that I looked good, but I won't believe it. His answer will be questioned no less than six times. I wanted the truth, but not if it's the wrong answer. But the wrong answer is the one I think is right, that I look bad. I'd be mad at him if I went out looking awful, but what could he say that won't have me crying and/or killing him? That's quite a puzzle! I'm surprised I didn't see steam from his over heated brain.
   Another moment that probably involved lots of over heating and brain melting, had to do with Easter candy.  I told Stephen that I absolutely did not want any Easter candy. I had been eating too many sweets and bathing suit season was not that far away.  I also went on and on about how I did not like the peanut butter eggs he got. I'm pretty sure that I have mentioned that I am not of fan of them for the last 7 Easter's, just in case he forgot. So it would make sense for him to question why I ate some. ( I was in such a rush when I stole them because I didn't want the kids to see me eating chocolate at 8:30am. I didn't close the lid right. Totally Busted!!)   He asked "Why did you eat my candy? You told me not to get you any because you said you are gonna start eating healthy to lose weight."  That's totally what I told him and yet I totally wanted to hurt him, thank goodness I had too many little witnesses around!  He looked so confused as I was giving him the death glare. I'll admit, it really didn't make sense, but nobody better tell me I can't have chocolate when I decide I deserved it.
       I wish I could wrap this up with some way to overcome this and offer up advice. A little something about body image and a dash of communication skills.  Let's be honest, I am still gonna ask if I look okay, tell him don't let me eat something and then practically break his finger off to grab another chip or candy.  He will never understand the logical reasons why he is wrong. Try not to kill them and occasionally let the stupid comments slide!

OH POOP!

      Everyone one warns you about the lack of sleep and lack of money, but they fail to mention one thing! Suddenly, a big chunk of your life becomes all about someone else's POOP! And just when you think you can handle the poop situation, it reaches a whole new level of gross!!
    Day 1 starts with this crazy practically irremovable tar substance that pretty much just adds insult to injury. You already feel totally inept and it's got you still struggling 3 wipes and a pee sprinkle later. Then you need to record each dirty diaper on that nifty chart they give you. If you're a first timer, you continue with your own chart and dutifully track each poo for weeks. You celebrate when the tar is gone, then it starts changing colors and you're freaking out.  The first time you dress them up and go out, Blow outs happen!  In the beginning you try all sorts of techniques to remove clothing without further contamination.  Gradually it wears you out until you say screw it and you take the scissors to the onsie your dying great aunt hand sewed.  You just can't take shampooing poop out of hair again.  You're so over asking all the mommy chats "how do you get poop stains out."  Next is solid foods.  All sorts of ungodly and unspeakable things start coming from your precious little one. You spend hours airing out the house and tracking them down as they flee in terror from the dreaded diaper change. You think it can't get worse but it does! It really, really does!  This next phase inspired this post.
    THEY LEARN HOW TO TAKE THEIR DIAPERS OFF!!!  I think you are not officially a parent until you have to scrub poop from under a toddler's finger nails!!  In the past week we have had two incidents.........

Tractor time:
    While I shower the kids usually play/fight in Sydney's room. This day (that will live in infamy) was kinda quiet. I should have known.  After I showered, I started their bath. I noticed that my informant (Sydney) was actually downstairs.  I called Nathan and he walked to me.  His diaper was MIA and little poop flakes were falling off his hands.  He bumped into the door with his poop smeared leg.  I wiped him down and threw him in the tub. I looked for the diaper and scream. It was open and next to his tractor on Syd's table. He used his poop for mud! There was poop all smashed in the tire treads.  Must have been "muddin" because it was "splashed" on the rest of it too.  Real creative kid, but you're going on the mat for F.O.R.E.V.E.R

"Ah No Nap, Mommy" :
    After too many crib escapes, we had to switch to the big boy bed.  We started making sure his door was super shut so he can't escape naps.  A lot of times, he talks and sings and calls for me. I usually let it go for an hour and if he still isn't asleep, I get him.  He was really talking away and yelling "Mommy" a lot, so I went to check on him. I opened the door and saw him half naked. No big surprise! I saw a wet spot on the carpet, so annoying! I stepped into the room...... Wait a minute! Why is my toe warm????..... No, it can't....... Please no....... I just....seriously.....NOOOOOOOOO!!!! I looked to see lots of smudges of poop.  While the little guy was free balling it, he must of pooped on the go. There are spots all over the floor. His book and a little spot on the wall also fell victim to this poop and run situation. UNBELIEVABLE!! (Note to self: add carpet cleaner to shopping list. the NEW bottle is almost done)


Please tell me it gets better!!! Tell me that after the always imperfectly timed "Mom, I'm done! Wipe me" shout, it's over!!! I can't handle anything else!!

Mother's Day Lemonade

    When life hands you lemons, make lemonade, right?  Being a mom to little kids is one tough job!  Full of challenges and exhaustion.  Our speaker at Mops, reminded us that it won't be forever and not to lose hope as you struggle.  It must have really stuck in my mind, because as things were driving me crazy, my outlook started to change.

*now before I get started, let me just say that our speaker is a wonderful, godly, sophisticated woman with lots of great advice and it's just my nutty, twisted brain that takes advice and make a weird turn

Once again Nathan had taken his diaper off when he was suppose to be napping and peed all over his mattress.  As I was taking of his sheet, sanitizing, and chasing my half naked little animal, I realized something.  Those diaperless adorable hiney cheeks won't last forever! One day they will be hairy man cheeks!!! One day, they will probably be exposed when he is wearing his pants too low or he is mooning his sister's friends. Suddenly, I am treasuring these tiny hiney days! This led to a whole list of things:

One day they will not screaming and crying like they are trying for an Oscar when they get a little itty bitty scrape, but then they will know that your kiss is not magical and won't cure it all

One day Nathan will stop eating parts of our home and he will be eating us out of out of house and home.  Dirt and crumbs are a lot cheaper than the amount of food a teenage boy eats

Right now Syd is constantly sneaking into our room and one day she might be trying to sneak out of the house

It's frustrating when the world seems to end if you leave the room or try and do something so selfish, like pee by yourself, but one day they will probably do their best to NOT be seen with you

It will be a heck of a lot harder to settle battles over who gets the car versus the melt downs over sharing balloons. You can't just blow up another car

One day they will stop waking you up super early and you will have no good excuse for why you look haggard and tired

It makes me crazy when Syd spazzes out when I brush her hair, but one day I will have to deal with an emotional teen crying about her hair and her looks.  That emotional mine field will be more challenging than just pinning her down and grabbing detangler

One day I will get to take a shower in peace and it will give time to notice just how evil gravity and time are! Having someone yell "mommy" every 5 seconds doesn't seem so bad huh??

It can be annoying never being able to listen to your music on the radio, but one day they will be older and you will look so weird going to the Wiggles concert by yourself  

Have a happy Mother's day! Think positively and laugh often!  Remember Hairy man cheek days are ahead, don't wish away the tiny hiney days!

Multiple Park Personalities

"Mommy, I am just going to call you that for a minute okay? Walk up to the swings and say hi to me. Pretend you don't know me!"


And so begins another episode of  As the play ground turns


"Hi, I'm Ella.  I am here at the park by myself because my mom is at work so she tells me to go to the park to wait for someone to come and watch me"

"I have 7 older brothers and 6 older sisters. My brothers were all embarrassed and freaking out. They wanted to dance with my sisters but they didn't want to. They were freaking out. They didn't have time. They had work to do. I was the only one who wanted to dance so I danced with my brothers one at a time. Then my sisters freaked out and it was a mess."

" Two of my sisters were adocked, Elsa and Anna, and two of my brothers were adocked too. They had a reindeer named Sven, so we have him too."

"Our parents died so we just all take care of each other. Well, actually just our dad died because he was really, really, really old but our mom is still around."

"I need to call you mommy again. Mommy, I am going to go play and fall down and pretend to cry. You, Jamie, come over and help me out. Okay? Hey Jamie, I am going to go play over here!"


So many times, I find myself wondering if I should be impressed or concerned with her imagination!!  Will she become an author or actress? Or will she be the weird kid psychologists study?  I have been told that she acts a lot like me so I guess I should.... not worry???
 

Rock a bye, baby boy

   Two nights ago as I finally started falling asleep around midnight, I heard Nathan screaming. I quick jumped up because that kid could wake the dead. Seriously, when God created that little boy he turned the volume control way past the normal setting. Anyway, I found him sitting up in his bed, looking completely out of it.  It was probably a nightmare so I scooped him up and sat in the rocking chair. I loved that he closed his eyes and snuggled right up to me.  I rocked him for a while and enjoyed his adorable little snore.  As soon as he was really out, I moved like a ninja and settled him back into his crib and left the room so I could get some much needed sleep.
    Before I even reached my bedroom door, I heard him crying my name.  Back I went and I was feeling a little annoyed because I just wanted to sleep ( insert whiny voice here) and scooped him up again. He was more awake this time and watched me.  He started running his fingers through my hair, which was something both kids did when they were babies to soothe themselves to sleep. He looked up at my hair, smiled a sleepy smile, and said, "pretty!" What is it about little boys that just completely melts your heart?
    I decided to just savor this moment. I knew I'd have plenty of of time to sleep when he's older and too cool to cuddle. I knew that the days of him wanting to sit on my lap and have me kiss his boo boos were limited. I just rocked him and watched him fighting falling alseep.  His eyes lids kept drooping and then he would pop them open. Finally, they were just open a crack.  I just sat their adoring him. I kept thinking about his incredible sense of humor, his fearlessness, how he loves to be held, and his cheesy little smile.  I was having a mushy mommy moments and gave him a kiss. I thought he was asleep because he didn't move a muscle, but I heard a faint whisper. I kissed him again. His eyes were still almost completely closed, but I heard the whisper again. I kissed him again and still couldn't hear what he said but knew he was saying the same thing over again. I tried one more time and put my ear so close to his little lips after I kissed him.  I felt his little baby breath tickle my ear as my precious baby boy whispered, "ewwwww"


Yeah, I guess those days are coming sooner than I thought! I almost tossed that little punk back in his crib!

my personal bubble

Sometimes I just want to jump up and down on the couch, throw my hands up in the air and scream  

  EVERYONE STOP TOUCHING ME!!!!!!!!!

    Now let me explain before you decide I am some cold hearted monster! I LOVE snuggling with my kids! It's the best when they curl up in your lap.  I give my kids too many kisses because I know that one day they will hate it and won't let me.  Scared and want to sleep next to me? I don't care if I have two inches of space on the mattress and my neck is at a 45 degree angle. Have to sit on my lap while I pee? I am not paying for the therapy they will need later, but I just sigh and say ok. When Nathan just HAS to be held in the grocery store, I hold him and steer the stupid cart one handed. It's like driving a tractor trailer with your feet, but I just roll with it. When I had to hold Syd when she napped, my arm would fall asleep, then hurt, then feel absolutely nothing, and then pain again, but I would push through for her.  When they treat Mommy like their own personal jungle gym, I want to go crazy!
     Sometimes I am just sitting or kneeling trying to do something and it's like kids are falling from the sky. They are on my head pinning my chin to my chest and forcing to balance them so they don't fall. They also throw themselves over my shoulder, nearly knocking me over. Other times they are spun around in my lap and feet are hitting me in the face and knees and elbows are jabbing random organs.  The worst is when they push the back of their heads into my face. My glasses are all crooked and this close to becoming contacts and my nose is completely flat. They do it all the time!!!!
    They also have that crazy kiddo martial arts move that I call the rolling heel of death.  They walk and/or climb on you and their heel slips and rolls over your bones, pinning and pinching any flab to the floor.  It's especially effective with the underside of your arms and legs!  And they have selective hearing when you tell them to get off. Either that or the shooting pain causes you to speak in tongues.
    Another move that practically causes my eye is twitch is the lunch time lap move. I finally sit down with my lunch after customizing everyone's menu and they both have to sit in my lap. No, it's not cute and no, it's not because they love me! It's a power struggle and I am just a pawn in their game. If one makes a move, the other has to follow.  Suddenly, I am balancing a wiggly kid on both knees. I am MILES away from my food.  Half of it falls off the long journey from the plate, through the jabbing shoulder valley, and onto the floor.  A girl can only overlook so many cat hairs and play dough bits stuck on her food.
   While we are talking about meals, let's talk about trying to make dinner.  Nathan will always be busy playing and not give two craps about me, until he senses a disturbance in the force. I am about to make dinner. He becomes the most needy kid on the planet and clings to me as if his life depends upon it.  There is no reasoning with him and no way to peel him off.  He grabs my legs so tightly that my pants start falling down. Now I have to decide between keeping dinner from burning and having my granny panties exposed (yeah, that's what you wear when you are a mom in sweat pants at home all day!) 
     Okay vent over!  I love them to death even if they leave me with bruises and a possible broken nose ;)
 

Outbreak

Twas the night before Church
When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Not even a mouse

oh crap!
What was that?

   I heard something that I imagine is what Hell hounds sound like followed by crying!  Nathan threw up! After two rounds of scrubbing down and outfit changes, we were wide awake and miserable.  We decided to snuggle up on the couch and watch tv.
   Every time the poor kid barfed into a bucket, I cheered and clapped and told him good job! I had to make sure that he knew that the vomiting protocol was to up chuck in a bucket and/or toilet and not on mommy (which Syd seems to believe!) After each ridiculous shower of praise, gave me quite the look. If that kid knew profanity, I am pretty sure he would have made a sailor blush with his thoughts on my "great job, buddy!"
    About two hours into our all night Bubble Guppies marathon, my mind started to wander. It thought about every toddler kiss, every bite of his lunch that I couldn't let go to waste, and every boogie and wad of gum that was deposited into my hand. Suddenly I was drowning in sess pool of germs and it was only a matter of time before..... Insert shuddering and sounds of impending doom!
    On Sunday I was fine. Monday I was feeling a little off. I was sitting there giving the kids a bath, I kinda started feeling worse. I texted Stephen to give him a heads up and he told me to call him if I need him.  About 20 minutes later I called him home.  I had started chanting "you are not getting sick" over and over but no one was listening. I WAS SICK!  Nathan ran off as soon as I got him out of the tub and was jumping on my bed. I couldn't move fast enough to catch him, so I stood there doing Lamaze breathing to fight off nausea while he was flopping his junk all over my pillow and waited for him to slow down.
    The first thing Stephen said when he saw me was "you don't look good" and then he took the kids down stairs.  As soon as they were out of sight, I gave up the battle.  Let's just say that those healthy cereals that you pretend taste good, well there is NO pretending the second time you taste them.  I don't think I have been that sick since I was a kid.
     Stephen did an awesome job taking care of the kids and answering all my texts.  He brought me ginger ale and crackers and then went to the store to get me Popsicles when I asked.  All I could do is lay in bed and not move an inch.  That is probably why I felt so achy and sore.  By 4:30, I couldn't take it. I had to soak in the tub and relax my muscles.  Now, I am not a diva, I swear! But I couldn't get the water hot enough, so while Stephen was feeding the kids dinner, I had him boiling a large pot of water to warm my bath.
     By the end of the night I was feeling much better and was happily sleeping away.  Some where in my dream, I heard a faint whisper of "Mommy!" But my dream was too good, I didn't want to wake up.  The whisper was louder and louder until it was yelling and feet scampering across the floor. The final battle cry and sound of someone puking on my bed, got me up (so long Wiggles, It was fun hanging out with you in my dreams!)  Sydney became victim number 3 at 3am. Surprisingly, she was the least sick and after a long nap, she was back to herself.
     Stephen had still escaped the plague, so Wednesday morning I sanitized the house.  I wiped/sprayed everything in the house.  The Lysol was so thick in the air, you could probably cut it with a knife. In fact I think I can still taste it (a week later) after walking through cloud after cloud of spray that day. I wanted us decontaminated because we had plans to visit my niece and nephew that weekend and I did not want to miss it.
     Friday night, we had just about everything packed up and ready to go for our trip the next day and Stephen was feeling kinda weird.  Just when he thought he was safe, he became victim number 4.   And I was the doting wife who took care of him, right? Umm, I asked if he needed anything and then made sure he stayed away from our stuff.  Then 7am the next day, I asked if he was okay and needed anything. Then I called out "bye babe, feel better" and I started loading up the kids for our fun weekend. I think I might have told him to make sure he sprayed down the house when he felt better too.  Wife of the year, for sure!

     Note from the editor (Stephen)
 When I am sick, I never want to hear Jamie call it a "Man Cold" again. Ever... then we'll call it even.