Of the 3 of my children, H has the largest need for physical affection. I'm all about cuddling but his definition of cuddling isn't exactly the same as mine.
I consider cuddling to be sitting next to each other, maybe under a blanket, and either telling stories or reading a book.
H considers cuddling to be more of a driveby event.
For example, H has a tendancy to move all 4 limbs in a circular motion while simultaneously doing a sommersault across my lap (picture 4 windmills tied together tumbling down a hill). As a result I've been kicked in the head, jabbed in the abdomen with an elbow or knee, headbutted in the leg or hip, and smacked in the face with his butt.
I love that he loves me and wants to be with me. I also appreciate that most of the time he catapaults himself across me we are both unscathed. I can't however express enough how important it is that he NOT do this when he is totally naked.
You're cute dude, but you're not THAT cute.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog, recommend it, and/or pass it along to your friends.
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
Passive aggressive toddler
H was bugging C pretty badly. He was all up in her business and she was being surprisingly patient. She asked him repeatedly to stop and when he didn't she insisted that she was no longer going to play with him. From my perspective it appeared to be the end of the issue.
I was making dinner and C settled herself at the table with some paper and a pen. She asked me to spell a few words but I wasn't really paying attention. The end result was downright hilarious.
"Dear Henry I hope you enjoy this book about being nice."
Apparently passive aggressive behavior is possible in a 4 year old. Who knew?
I was making dinner and C settled herself at the table with some paper and a pen. She asked me to spell a few words but I wasn't really paying attention. The end result was downright hilarious.
"Dear Henry I hope you enjoy this book about being nice."
Apparently passive aggressive behavior is possible in a 4 year old. Who knew?
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog, recommend it, and/or pass it along to your friends.
Old Dogs do learn new tricks, and mine is kind of an asshole
We've had our dog Petey for 12 years now. He's been a part of our lives for such a long time that I can't imagine what it will be like without him. He's still doing surprisingly well considering he is around 13 years old.
As he has aged we've all become more aware of the fact that our time with him is limited. H keeps saying "Petey's probably going to die soon" to pretty much every stranger which isn't awkward at all (yes, that is sarcasm).
All 3 kids have also taken to feeding him treats, scraps, and goodies since I made the mistake of telling them that old dogs deserve to be spoiled, which of course makes backyard cleanup a little extra nasty.
Oh, not to mention the whole no pets on the furniture thing has gone out the window. The excuses run from "he's too old to sleep on the hard floor", to "mom, he's cold," or "I just want to cuddle with him since he's probably going to die tomorrow." Of course I cave because I too am a total sucker.
I swear Petey has heard these discussions and has decided to totally mess with us. He has taken to laying with his eyes open and holding his breath just long enough for me to exclaim "oh shit!!!" before he promptly perks up and starts wagging with a little doggy smirk as if to say "haha, I totally got you that time!"
I swear this dog is trying to kill me first by giving me a heart attack.
As he has aged we've all become more aware of the fact that our time with him is limited. H keeps saying "Petey's probably going to die soon" to pretty much every stranger which isn't awkward at all (yes, that is sarcasm).
All 3 kids have also taken to feeding him treats, scraps, and goodies since I made the mistake of telling them that old dogs deserve to be spoiled, which of course makes backyard cleanup a little extra nasty.
Oh, not to mention the whole no pets on the furniture thing has gone out the window. The excuses run from "he's too old to sleep on the hard floor", to "mom, he's cold," or "I just want to cuddle with him since he's probably going to die tomorrow." Of course I cave because I too am a total sucker.
I swear Petey has heard these discussions and has decided to totally mess with us. He has taken to laying with his eyes open and holding his breath just long enough for me to exclaim "oh shit!!!" before he promptly perks up and starts wagging with a little doggy smirk as if to say "haha, I totally got you that time!"
I swear this dog is trying to kill me first by giving me a heart attack.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this
blog, recommend it, and/or pass it along to your friends.
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Sticky Sticky Henry
I'm female and I had one sister growing up so I had absolutely no idea what it was like to be, or live with a little boy until I had H.
One of the things that I find to be the most confusing is that the kid is ALWAYS sticky. Actually, it's not even just his body that's sticky, it's his chair, the floor around his chair, the walls within 10 feet of his chair, most of his toys, and all of his shoes. I'm especially confused about the shoes...
Today while C was in swim class I was watching her through the glass and H was all over the place as usual. I started taking note of what he was doing with his body and this is what happened:
1. touch the glass
2. touch the floor
3. step on mom's foot
4. grab a random bottle of water and ask if he could drink it
5. touch the glass
6. touch about 7 chairs while trying to pick the perfect chair.
7. sit for 3 seconds
8. lick the glass
9. smirk at mom
10. lick the glass again
11. manhandle A
12. lay on the floor
13. smear something blue on the glass
14. materialize with a handful of squashed skittles
15. lick his hand
16. touch his hair
Having a little boy in the house may mean that more cleaning/bathing is required, but there are a lot of things I'll never need again, like a swiffer, or endust, or flypaper....
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog, recommend it, and/or pass it along to your friends.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog, recommend it, and/or pass it along to your friends.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog, recommend it, and/or pass it along to your friends.
Sunday, April 12, 2015
Land Shark
Henry is a biter. It drives me nuts. It started when he was a baby and I have no idea why.
The first time it happened he was around 6 months old. He wasn't crawling yet but was quite mobile and had teeth. I was standing near him and he log rolled right over and chomped down on my ankle like he was a shark going after some chum. I had no idea what to do other than pry his jaws open and remind him that people aren't food.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog, recommend it, and/or pass it along to your friends.
Today he bit Charlotte for the first time in months. I made him apologize and get his big sis an ice pack to put on the nasty bruise he gave her. I wanted him to see how upset and hurt she was, but I was also biding my time trying to calm down so I could think of a proper way to discipline him without losing my shit.
I asked him "do you know what it feels like to be bitten?"
He said, "no"
eureka! I had my plan!
Me: "hey henry!"
H: "yes"
Me: "I want you to bite yourself to see what it feels like."
H: "ok... Like this?"
Me: "no, harder"
H: "Chomp... Ouch, that hurts! Whimper whimper. I need an ice pack"
No shit kid. Did you see the bruised skin and teeth marks you left behind on your sister?
As a parent you can talk until you are blue in the face but sometimes they just don't get it until they've experienced it first hand, or tooth in this case.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog, recommend it, and/or pass it along to your friends.
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
What did you do all day?
My husband came home from work a while ago and I was giving him a recap about our day. I was filling him in about how we had such a great day; the kids were well behaved and really helpful, and we had actually managed to be productive and get way more than usual done around the house. I was impressed enough with our progress that I was being downright cocky.
He responded in a positive way, even though I noticed him slyly looking around for all of this supposed "progress." I know he trusted me, but when I glanced around I realized that it honestly didn't look like I had done a damn thing.
It was in that exact moment that I realized that we had a prime example of "what did you do all day?".
I'm fully aware of wondering what the hell it is that a stay at home mom does all day. I actually remember asking my mom that question more than once as a pain-in-the-ass teenager that wanted nothing to do with my assigned chores. What I have learned over the past 4.5 years is that productivity as a stay at home parent is rarely if not never represented through a visual assessment of the environment.
This list shows a few ways I measure the success of my day:
1. How much undivided attention my kids got from me
2. How silly we got, and how much laughing we did
3. How much we moved our bodies
4. How little junk we ate or tv we watched
5. What we learned together
6. How clean we managed to get at any given point
7. How few times I yelled or otherwise lost my shit
8. How few times the kids lost control of their bodies and/or emotions
9. Any progress in the life skills dept - showing independence, communication skills, problem solving
10. How well we functioned as a team
11. How many hugs and kisses were given
12. How creative we were
Housewives in the 1950s focused on what people would see; they were primped and put together, the kids were clean and well mannered, the house was picked up, and a nutritious meal was ready on time. That was easily measured visually by anyone.
Parents of today do things very differently. We don't kick the kids out of the house for the entire day only to round them up 30 minutes before dinner for a quick bath. Parenting styles are changing, so why are we judging success in an antiquated way?
Just think of it this way. If you were to walk into a 1950s house blindfolded and a modern day house blindfolded, what would you pick up on differently?
Most of our parents turned out just fine, but that doesn't mean there isn't another way to do things. I've chosen to focus on the things that I will cherish, and not the housework that will just be there again tomorrow.
I've heard many Moms respond to questions about their levels of exhaustion with the phrase, "I'll sleep when I'm dead."
Well, when people want to judge me because not all of my dishes are loaded in the dishwasher, the beds aren't made, the kids faces need to be wiped, or there are art supplies all over the table and toys all over the floor, etc.. I respond with "I'll clean when they move out."
Get with the times folks. Get a new measurement tool and figure out how to use it. It's not an issue of laziness, it's all about priorities, and I'm totally comfortable with where mine are at.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog to be notified of future posts.
He responded in a positive way, even though I noticed him slyly looking around for all of this supposed "progress." I know he trusted me, but when I glanced around I realized that it honestly didn't look like I had done a damn thing.
It was in that exact moment that I realized that we had a prime example of "what did you do all day?".
I'm fully aware of wondering what the hell it is that a stay at home mom does all day. I actually remember asking my mom that question more than once as a pain-in-the-ass teenager that wanted nothing to do with my assigned chores. What I have learned over the past 4.5 years is that productivity as a stay at home parent is rarely if not never represented through a visual assessment of the environment.
This list shows a few ways I measure the success of my day:
1. How much undivided attention my kids got from me
2. How silly we got, and how much laughing we did
3. How much we moved our bodies
4. How little junk we ate or tv we watched
5. What we learned together
6. How clean we managed to get at any given point
7. How few times I yelled or otherwise lost my shit
8. How few times the kids lost control of their bodies and/or emotions
9. Any progress in the life skills dept - showing independence, communication skills, problem solving
10. How well we functioned as a team
11. How many hugs and kisses were given
12. How creative we were
Housewives in the 1950s focused on what people would see; they were primped and put together, the kids were clean and well mannered, the house was picked up, and a nutritious meal was ready on time. That was easily measured visually by anyone.
Parents of today do things very differently. We don't kick the kids out of the house for the entire day only to round them up 30 minutes before dinner for a quick bath. Parenting styles are changing, so why are we judging success in an antiquated way?
Just think of it this way. If you were to walk into a 1950s house blindfolded and a modern day house blindfolded, what would you pick up on differently?
Most of our parents turned out just fine, but that doesn't mean there isn't another way to do things. I've chosen to focus on the things that I will cherish, and not the housework that will just be there again tomorrow.
I've heard many Moms respond to questions about their levels of exhaustion with the phrase, "I'll sleep when I'm dead."
Well, when people want to judge me because not all of my dishes are loaded in the dishwasher, the beds aren't made, the kids faces need to be wiped, or there are art supplies all over the table and toys all over the floor, etc.. I respond with "I'll clean when they move out."
Get with the times folks. Get a new measurement tool and figure out how to use it. It's not an issue of laziness, it's all about priorities, and I'm totally comfortable with where mine are at.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog to be notified of future posts.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Proud Mama
When my kids were small I took pride in the same accomplishments most parents do, and for good reason. When a baby learns to sit on their own, crawl, walk, or utter their first words it's a clear indication that growth and development are occurring. Our jobs as parents are to feed, protect, and nurture our children as best as we possibly can so when all of these things come together and a milestone is reached, we have a reason to be proud.
These are some special moments from last week:
On Friday Charlotte accidentally used too much toilet paper and the toilet started to overflow. She immediately came running and hollering "Mommy, Mommy, we have a flood. Come quick!!!" She followed me and while I was turning off the water she asked "What can I do?" and I told her to grab towels. She ran to the linen closet, grabbed an armload and was back to the bathroom so fast that she was able to soak up the water before it started going through the floor. I told her that her quick response and her helpfulness is the only reason we didn't get water damage and she responded in a perfectly Charlotte way by saying, "Oh that's a relief. We have enough projects to do around here." She doesn't sure her excitement as openly but I could see exactly how happy she was to have saved the day.
As my kids have grown I have felt pride in completely different ways and not necessarily in ways that I would have expected. There has been a slow shift from me feeling proud of myself for what I have done to contribute to their successes, to being proud for them for what they are accomplishing by themselves. I'm so glad I get to be home with them so I can witness these moments and share their pride with them everyday.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
These are some special moments from last week:
On Thursday Henry managed to complete all the steps of bathroom usage (potty, wipe, flush, wash hands, get dressed) in one event.When he came out of the bathroom and I asked him all of the questions that I usually ask to verify that he did everything necessary, he as able to answer "yes" to everything. I could see his smile getting bigger and bigger with each response. He started beaming because he for once didn't have to say "no, I forgot."
On Friday Charlotte accidentally used too much toilet paper and the toilet started to overflow. She immediately came running and hollering "Mommy, Mommy, we have a flood. Come quick!!!" She followed me and while I was turning off the water she asked "What can I do?" and I told her to grab towels. She ran to the linen closet, grabbed an armload and was back to the bathroom so fast that she was able to soak up the water before it started going through the floor. I told her that her quick response and her helpfulness is the only reason we didn't get water damage and she responded in a perfectly Charlotte way by saying, "Oh that's a relief. We have enough projects to do around here." She doesn't sure her excitement as openly but I could see exactly how happy she was to have saved the day.
As my kids have grown I have felt pride in completely different ways and not necessarily in ways that I would have expected. There has been a slow shift from me feeling proud of myself for what I have done to contribute to their successes, to being proud for them for what they are accomplishing by themselves. I'm so glad I get to be home with them so I can witness these moments and share their pride with them everyday.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Monsters
Henry has a new favorite book. It's called The Big Book of Big Monsters.
I knew he was pretty hooked on it when he started running up to people he didn't even know and asking "Do you know what a Yeti is?"
Here are a few other random interchanges that have occurred since this book entered our lives:
Me: "Henry do you want to get a frosty after we pick Charlotte up from school?"
H: "a frost giant? That's preposterous!"
Me: "no, a frosty is ice cream, not a mythical monster"
H: "oh yes! I do want one of those!"
We were at the gym and I went to childcare to pick Henry up. He didn't want to leave and one of the ladies watching him tried to help by saying, "Look how dark it is outside. It's almost bedtime." Henry looked her right in the eye and said "it's not bedtime, Skoll just swallowed the sun."
Lady to her son: "Look Kyle, that little boy has an octopus and a pirate ship on his shirt"
Kyle giggled and showed Henry his fistful of pirate coins
Henry to lady: "It's not an octopus, it's a Kraken"
Lady: "Oh... What is that?"
Henry: "A creature of legend that attacks ships"
Kyle (pointed to his coins, the pirate ship, and then to the kraken) : "booty, shit, crack"
I apologized to Kyle's mom for Kyle's new phrase, although I probably shouldn't have joked that this may be a good reason to practice making "P" sounds.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
I knew he was pretty hooked on it when he started running up to people he didn't even know and asking "Do you know what a Yeti is?"
Here are a few other random interchanges that have occurred since this book entered our lives:
Me: "Henry do you want to get a frosty after we pick Charlotte up from school?"
H: "a frost giant? That's preposterous!"
Me: "no, a frosty is ice cream, not a mythical monster"
H: "oh yes! I do want one of those!"
We were at the gym and I went to childcare to pick Henry up. He didn't want to leave and one of the ladies watching him tried to help by saying, "Look how dark it is outside. It's almost bedtime." Henry looked her right in the eye and said "it's not bedtime, Skoll just swallowed the sun."
Lady to her son: "Look Kyle, that little boy has an octopus and a pirate ship on his shirt"
Kyle giggled and showed Henry his fistful of pirate coins
Henry to lady: "It's not an octopus, it's a Kraken"
Lady: "Oh... What is that?"
Henry: "A creature of legend that attacks ships"
Kyle (pointed to his coins, the pirate ship, and then to the kraken) : "booty, shit, crack"
I apologized to Kyle's mom for Kyle's new phrase, although I probably shouldn't have joked that this may be a good reason to practice making "P" sounds.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Luxuries
When I had kids I knew I would be giving up many luxuries, and I thought I had a pretty good handle on what they would be. To this day one of the liberties I miss the most is one I never even noticed I had before it was gone. It was probably one of the greatest perks to being a childless adult and I had absolutely no clue it was even something to cherish.
Oh how I long for the days when I had to leave the house for one reason or another, and was able to just, well... LEAVE!
People always ask me what the hardest part about having 3 kids is and I say it is hands down the process of getting everyone out of the house and safely secured in the van.
This is our family's 52 step process......
1. Announce to the kids that we are leaving soon
2. Tell C to go potty and get dressed
3. Tell H to go potty
4. Change A
5. Remind C to get dressed
6. Find clothes for me
7. Find clothes for H
8. Dress A
9. Ask Henry again to go potty
10. Get myself dressed
11. Tell C to change because she didn't pick weather appropriate attire
12. Find the detangler for C's rat's nest hair
13. Brush my teeth
14. Give H his clothes
15. Chase naked H down to retrieve the detangler that he took off the counter
16. Spray Detangler in C's hair
17. Feed A
18. Brush my hair
19. Bring H's clothing to the room he's in now and remind him to get dressed
20. Brush the part's of C's hair that she missed
21. A pooped- change her again
22. threaten H with a consequence for not getting dressed
23. wait 7 minutes while H poops
24. dress H against his will
25. Load A in her infant carseat (A starts screaming)
26. Tell C and H to find shoes
27. put on my shoes
28. Tell C to change her shoes to something appropriate for the outing
29. Beg C & H to hurry because A is still screaming
30. Help H with his coat
31. Put on my coat
32. Tell C to stop trying to soothe A because she's not going to be happy until the car is moving
33. Tell C to put her coat on
34. Gather my purse and keys.
35. Grab A and start walking out
36. Tell H to walk to the van
37. Get A in the van
38. Holler at C to get out of the house
39. Ask H to get out of the mud/snow and get in the van
40. lock the house
41. Tell H to stop eating the french fry he found under the seat
42. Ask H to get in his seat
43. Remind C to buckle
44. Put H in his seat
45. Wait a solid minute while H tries to buckle himself
46. Buckle H against his will. (H starts to cry)
47. Snap at C for messing around and not being buckled. (C starts to cry)
48. Get in the driver's seat
49. Buckle self
50. Start car
51. Turn on the radio and crank it up to drown out all 3 screaming kids
52. drive
Whoa, I'm exhausted just typing that. It's a wonder I manage to make it through that process every single day.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Oh how I long for the days when I had to leave the house for one reason or another, and was able to just, well... LEAVE!
People always ask me what the hardest part about having 3 kids is and I say it is hands down the process of getting everyone out of the house and safely secured in the van.
This is our family's 52 step process......
1. Announce to the kids that we are leaving soon
2. Tell C to go potty and get dressed
3. Tell H to go potty
4. Change A
5. Remind C to get dressed
6. Find clothes for me
7. Find clothes for H
8. Dress A
9. Ask Henry again to go potty
10. Get myself dressed
11. Tell C to change because she didn't pick weather appropriate attire
12. Find the detangler for C's rat's nest hair
13. Brush my teeth
14. Give H his clothes
15. Chase naked H down to retrieve the detangler that he took off the counter
16. Spray Detangler in C's hair
17. Feed A
18. Brush my hair
19. Bring H's clothing to the room he's in now and remind him to get dressed
20. Brush the part's of C's hair that she missed
21. A pooped- change her again
22. threaten H with a consequence for not getting dressed
23. wait 7 minutes while H poops
24. dress H against his will
25. Load A in her infant carseat (A starts screaming)
26. Tell C and H to find shoes
27. put on my shoes
28. Tell C to change her shoes to something appropriate for the outing
29. Beg C & H to hurry because A is still screaming
30. Help H with his coat
31. Put on my coat
32. Tell C to stop trying to soothe A because she's not going to be happy until the car is moving
33. Tell C to put her coat on
34. Gather my purse and keys.
35. Grab A and start walking out
36. Tell H to walk to the van
37. Get A in the van
38. Holler at C to get out of the house
39. Ask H to get out of the mud/snow and get in the van
40. lock the house
41. Tell H to stop eating the french fry he found under the seat
42. Ask H to get in his seat
43. Remind C to buckle
44. Put H in his seat
45. Wait a solid minute while H tries to buckle himself
46. Buckle H against his will. (H starts to cry)
47. Snap at C for messing around and not being buckled. (C starts to cry)
48. Get in the driver's seat
49. Buckle self
50. Start car
51. Turn on the radio and crank it up to drown out all 3 screaming kids
52. drive
Whoa, I'm exhausted just typing that. It's a wonder I manage to make it through that process every single day.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
What's mine is yours
When I became pregnant with each of my kids I started living life with the understanding that what was mine was also theirs.
From the moment they were zygotes, my kids were in control of my body. They dictated when I could sleep, what I could eat, and how I could otherwise spend my time. It may not always be ideal but I knowingly signed up for it.
When I became a stay at home mom I knew I would go days at a time without having the opportunity to be both awake and alone. Yes it gets troublesome at times when you need to do something private and it's just not an option, but I take comfort in the fact that most babies and toddlers are too young to form many lifelong memories.
I also knew that it would be years before I could enjoy a meal, adult conversation, or the ability to complete any task without being interrupted a million times. Luckily I can usually talk myself down from going completely bonkers when I remind myself that it feels amazing to be needed and this phase won't last forever.
I have allowed my kids to use my toothbrush, kick me out of my own bed, sit on my lap while I'm on the toilet or at my feet while I'm in the shower and generally without complaint. I assumed there was no limit to my willingness to share everything with them.
Tonight I told the kids to save me one snickerdoodle to eat after I finished cleaning up from dinner. There were 5 in the package when I only had one more pot to wash, so I assumed there was no risk of them disappearing. Boy was I wrong!
I looked over at Henry munching away on what was supposed to be MY cookie and said "I thought I asked you to save one for me." He responded with, "Woops! Sorry! Here you go mom," and he extended a half eaten, saliva soaked cookie in my direction. I could tell by the look on his face that he never expected me to take it.
From the moment they were zygotes, my kids were in control of my body. They dictated when I could sleep, what I could eat, and how I could otherwise spend my time. It may not always be ideal but I knowingly signed up for it.
When I became a stay at home mom I knew I would go days at a time without having the opportunity to be both awake and alone. Yes it gets troublesome at times when you need to do something private and it's just not an option, but I take comfort in the fact that most babies and toddlers are too young to form many lifelong memories.
I also knew that it would be years before I could enjoy a meal, adult conversation, or the ability to complete any task without being interrupted a million times. Luckily I can usually talk myself down from going completely bonkers when I remind myself that it feels amazing to be needed and this phase won't last forever.
I have allowed my kids to use my toothbrush, kick me out of my own bed, sit on my lap while I'm on the toilet or at my feet while I'm in the shower and generally without complaint. I assumed there was no limit to my willingness to share everything with them.
Tonight I told the kids to save me one snickerdoodle to eat after I finished cleaning up from dinner. There were 5 in the package when I only had one more pot to wash, so I assumed there was no risk of them disappearing. Boy was I wrong!
I looked over at Henry munching away on what was supposed to be MY cookie and said "I thought I asked you to save one for me." He responded with, "Woops! Sorry! Here you go mom," and he extended a half eaten, saliva soaked cookie in my direction. I could tell by the look on his face that he never expected me to take it.
Most loving moms would have said, "It's ok honey, next time you'll remember right?"
Ha! Not here. This Mama snatched that cookie right out of his outstretched hand and polished it off in one gloriously satifying bite.
What's mine is yours kids, as long as you keep away from my damn snickerdoodles.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Sunday, March 8, 2015
Miracles
Trust me, I know how incredibly lucky I am to have had 3 relatively uneventful pregnancies that have resulted in healthy babies born at 37+ weeks. I'm a science minded woman and I get overwhelmed just thinking about what has to line up for a human to be created, grown, and born without incident. Each baby truly is a miracle.
In case you don't have a dictionary handy, I've copied the definition below:
Regardless of which definition you identify with, we get the same result and it's something to be humble about, thankful for, and in awe of every single day.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog, recommend it, and/or pass it along to your friends.
In case you don't have a dictionary handy, I've copied the definition below:
miracle
1. an effect or extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a supernatural cause.
2. such an effect or event manifesting or considered as a work of God.
3. a wonder; marvel.
2. such an effect or event manifesting or considered as a work of God.
3. a wonder; marvel.
Regardless of which definition you identify with, we get the same result and it's something to be humble about, thankful for, and in awe of every single day.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog, recommend it, and/or pass it along to your friends.
Saturday, March 7, 2015
Teaching moments
This is a real conversation that happened between me and Charlotte on MLK day this year.
Me: "Do you know why we celebrate MLK day?"
C: "No"
Me: "We celebrate Martin Luther King Jr. because his efforts are a huge reason why all people in the United States now have the same rights and rules."
C: "Wow, that's a really long name."
(Commence conversation about what makes someone a Junior)
C :"I'm going to name my kid Charlotte Junior"
Me:"So what determines how we treat someone else?"
C: "Their behavior?"
Me:"Yes, your behavior choices will affect how people will treat you. Did you know that people have been treated poorly because of their skin color?"
C: "That's ridiculous. Ha ha ha!"(she clearly thought I was full of BS)
Me:" I agree."
C:"What makes people have different color skin?"
(Brief explanation about evolution and melanin changes relative to location on the globe.)
C: "I want to move to the equator so I can turn brown. I don't like using sun screen."
I think she got the point... right?
Comment below if you have a question you want me to ask my kids. Maybe you'll see their responses in a future post! I'm all about learning experiences and I'm curious what people would like to hear from the perspectives of today's 4.5 and 2.75 year olds!
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Me: "Do you know why we celebrate MLK day?"
C: "No"
Me: "We celebrate Martin Luther King Jr. because his efforts are a huge reason why all people in the United States now have the same rights and rules."
C: "Wow, that's a really long name."
(Commence conversation about what makes someone a Junior)
C :"I'm going to name my kid Charlotte Junior"
Me:"So what determines how we treat someone else?"
C: "Their behavior?"
Me:"Yes, your behavior choices will affect how people will treat you. Did you know that people have been treated poorly because of their skin color?"
C: "That's ridiculous. Ha ha ha!"(she clearly thought I was full of BS)
Me:" I agree."
C:"What makes people have different color skin?"
(Brief explanation about evolution and melanin changes relative to location on the globe.)
C: "I want to move to the equator so I can turn brown. I don't like using sun screen."
I think she got the point... right?
Comment below if you have a question you want me to ask my kids. Maybe you'll see their responses in a future post! I'm all about learning experiences and I'm curious what people would like to hear from the perspectives of today's 4.5 and 2.75 year olds!
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Lions and Tigers, Oh My!
Henry asked me to buy him a tiger costume. I guess I should have taken his request more seriously.
They don't make them like they used to
At our old house our washing machine could crank through a load of laundry in 30 minutes. Sure it took about 40 gallons of water and a cup of detergent, but there was no question the clothes were clean when it was done. I would go downstairs and find the machine a foot from the wall and I just knew that it had worked hard to get my clothes clean, rinsed, and wrung out.
With the high efficiency washing machine at my new house it takes about an hour and 15 minutes just to wash a load of laundry. I will push the button to start the machine and after 5 minutes and about 50 false starts, it finally begins to fill. Nothing is as disappointing as the spin cycle though. I can hear the agitator do one rotation and stop, then another rotation, and stop again. It just doesn't seem committed to getting the job done.
Of course as a mom I'm always subconsciously looking for ways to get things done faster and better so that's probably why I noticed what I did. We were at the pool and Henry was moving around in the water similarly to how he moves on dry land when he has energy to burn - constantly, rhythmically, and in a circular motion. Most people would have gotten dizzy and fallen over but since Henry easily spends 10-15 minutes per day spinning around the house he has apparently built up a tolerance. I was trying to figure out what his movement reminded me of and then it dawned on me. He's a human agitator, and much more similar to my 1979 washer than my lazy HE model! Hmm..... I think it's time for an experiment. Next time Henry is in the bathtub I'm going to kill 2 birds with 1 stone by tossing his laundry in with him. What's the worst thing that can happen?
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Thursday, February 12, 2015
The Mom Uniform
I'm not really sure how it happens...
You go from feeling like an attractive, fashionable, put together woman to one day realizing you haven't been out of your mom uniform in weeks.
What is a mom uniform you ask? Here are a few distingusing characteristics:
You go from feeling like an attractive, fashionable, put together woman to one day realizing you haven't been out of your mom uniform in weeks.
What is a mom uniform you ask? Here are a few distingusing characteristics:
1. Pants need to have an elastic waist. My life revolves around short people and their messes. Everything is either on the floor, or pretty darn close to it so I find myself bending down about 400 times a day. The only reason butt crack exposure is named after plumbers is that moms have collectively made a choice to wear pants that stay put. We are classy like that.
2. The material must be soft. What I wear on a daily basis gets rubbed against almost constantly with all of the hugs, cuddles, book reading, and lap sitting that goes on around here. When my kids are sick or upset my shirt is frequently the handiest alternative to Kleenex, and let's face it, nobody wants to wipe their nose on something rough.
3. The fabric has to be absorbant. When we are out and about we always end up stumbling upon those absurdly loud hand dryers in public restrooms that hurt my kids ears, and inevitably my pants are used as a hand towel.
4. Everything needs to be washable. Kids are gross, filthy, creatures. Just take one look at the chairs my kids sit in for meals and snacks and you will be shocked at how nasty they get in just a day. Yes, part of being a mommy is accepting the fact that you will be used as a napkin on a daily basis. In just this past week I have caught handfuls of snot, vomit, and poop to avoid scrubbing carpet, couches, curtains, and bedding. What I wear ABSOLUTELY must be washable, preferably in hot water.
5. You absolutely cannot feel fashionable in it. If you do, you will be devastated when it gets ruined. Save those nice clothes for kid free events.
6. It must be inexpensive. I buy all of my clothing secondhand so I don't have to think twice about tossing it after it gets a permenant stain, bleach splatter, or absurd amount of body fluids on it. The last casualty was when the velcro on my daughter's sleep sack snagged the fabric on my shirt. That shirt only cost me $5 to buy and will only cost $5 to replace. Can't get too upset about that.
7. Bathrobes are your best friend. Nobody wakes up in the morning all toasty warm and ready to start the day. That's where bathrobes come in. It's like wearing your bed around while your body wakes up. Well, at least that's how my bathrobe wearing obsession started. Then I realized it's the absolute best article of clothing for a variety of reasons. Robes are cheaper than nursing tanks and shirts but it's just as easy to whip a boob out of your robe for a feeding. You can actually secure your child in the robe and use the belt to support some of their weight, so it's like having a poor-man's moby wrap available at all times. They are super easy to take off and that comes in handy when a post preggo hotflash rears it's ugly head. It's also modest yet freeing at the same time, because you can generally get away with wearing a robe with nothing else underneath and nobody would know the difference. It certainly adds a little extra sense of adventure during my trecks to the roadside mailbox. Above all else, bathrobes fulfill requirements 1-6 perfectly, it's just too bad they aren't meant to be worn in public.
So when you see us Moms out and about in our cozy clothes it's not because we have let ourselves go and can't fit into something more stylish, and it's not because we have given up on our appearances, it's because we do everything we can to help our kids be comfortable, and that means resembling a teddy bear as much as we possibly can.
I've heard men complain that all they do is see their wives in uniform. Well guys, maybe it's time to give us an excuse to throw on some real clothes for a change. Plan a date out without the kids. Moms out of uniform have been known to act like sailors on shore leave when given the opportunity to get away from the kids, and chances are you're going to benefit from that pretty darn well if you play your cards right.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
2. The material must be soft. What I wear on a daily basis gets rubbed against almost constantly with all of the hugs, cuddles, book reading, and lap sitting that goes on around here. When my kids are sick or upset my shirt is frequently the handiest alternative to Kleenex, and let's face it, nobody wants to wipe their nose on something rough.
3. The fabric has to be absorbant. When we are out and about we always end up stumbling upon those absurdly loud hand dryers in public restrooms that hurt my kids ears, and inevitably my pants are used as a hand towel.
4. Everything needs to be washable. Kids are gross, filthy, creatures. Just take one look at the chairs my kids sit in for meals and snacks and you will be shocked at how nasty they get in just a day. Yes, part of being a mommy is accepting the fact that you will be used as a napkin on a daily basis. In just this past week I have caught handfuls of snot, vomit, and poop to avoid scrubbing carpet, couches, curtains, and bedding. What I wear ABSOLUTELY must be washable, preferably in hot water.
5. You absolutely cannot feel fashionable in it. If you do, you will be devastated when it gets ruined. Save those nice clothes for kid free events.
6. It must be inexpensive. I buy all of my clothing secondhand so I don't have to think twice about tossing it after it gets a permenant stain, bleach splatter, or absurd amount of body fluids on it. The last casualty was when the velcro on my daughter's sleep sack snagged the fabric on my shirt. That shirt only cost me $5 to buy and will only cost $5 to replace. Can't get too upset about that.
7. Bathrobes are your best friend. Nobody wakes up in the morning all toasty warm and ready to start the day. That's where bathrobes come in. It's like wearing your bed around while your body wakes up. Well, at least that's how my bathrobe wearing obsession started. Then I realized it's the absolute best article of clothing for a variety of reasons. Robes are cheaper than nursing tanks and shirts but it's just as easy to whip a boob out of your robe for a feeding. You can actually secure your child in the robe and use the belt to support some of their weight, so it's like having a poor-man's moby wrap available at all times. They are super easy to take off and that comes in handy when a post preggo hotflash rears it's ugly head. It's also modest yet freeing at the same time, because you can generally get away with wearing a robe with nothing else underneath and nobody would know the difference. It certainly adds a little extra sense of adventure during my trecks to the roadside mailbox. Above all else, bathrobes fulfill requirements 1-6 perfectly, it's just too bad they aren't meant to be worn in public.
So when you see us Moms out and about in our cozy clothes it's not because we have let ourselves go and can't fit into something more stylish, and it's not because we have given up on our appearances, it's because we do everything we can to help our kids be comfortable, and that means resembling a teddy bear as much as we possibly can.
I've heard men complain that all they do is see their wives in uniform. Well guys, maybe it's time to give us an excuse to throw on some real clothes for a change. Plan a date out without the kids. Moms out of uniform have been known to act like sailors on shore leave when given the opportunity to get away from the kids, and chances are you're going to benefit from that pretty darn well if you play your cards right.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Sleep like a baby
One specific statement that has changed meaning for me so much since having kids is, "I'm going to sleep like a baby tonight!!!"
Before I had kids the idea of sleeping like a baby sounded fantastic, but now that I have been subjected to the sleep/wake cycles of 3 babies over the past 5 years (and have aged at least 10) I want nothing to do with it.
Let's take a look to see what it would be like if I truly slept like a baby....
The average newborn baby sleeps 16-17 hours a day. I usually get 6 combined hours and I can't even get everything done. When I think of it I keep picturing the kids stuck to the floors, playing in mountains of laundry, and living on cheez-its and milk.
A baby has the ability to fall asleep at the drop of the hat when he/she is tired, overstimulated, growing, sick, or otherwise in the mood for some shut-eye. If I fell asleep when I experienced any of those things, it would happen 10-15 times a day on a typical day and I would be considered debilitatingly narcoleptic.
Babies sleep in some downright adorable positions. A favorite of mine is when they sleep on their tummies with their butts up in the air.. If I slept like that I would end up waking up with two totally dead arms, a swollen face, stiff neck, numb legs, and a back so screwed up I would have to hobble around like Quasimodo.
A young baby can wake up to eat 3-5 times a night. If that were me I would weigh 300 pounds easily.
Many babies need some kind of soothing device to fall asleep. My parents paid way too much money on orthodontic work for me to end up with a pacifier induced open-bite so that wouldn't work. I'm prone to motion sickess so rocking wouldn't go over well at all. That pretty much leaves a vibrating bed and I could list a slew of reasons why that would be a bad idea but I'll let you figure those out for yourselves.
And finally, the biggest reason I don't want to sleep like a baby is that their bowels are NOT diurnal which generally results in them shitting themselves nightly. I don't have much dignity left after 3 pregnancies, 3 labors, and 3 recoveries but luckily that is one area my dignity is firmly intact and I hope to keep it that way as long as I possibly can.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Before I had kids the idea of sleeping like a baby sounded fantastic, but now that I have been subjected to the sleep/wake cycles of 3 babies over the past 5 years (and have aged at least 10) I want nothing to do with it.
Let's take a look to see what it would be like if I truly slept like a baby....
The average newborn baby sleeps 16-17 hours a day. I usually get 6 combined hours and I can't even get everything done. When I think of it I keep picturing the kids stuck to the floors, playing in mountains of laundry, and living on cheez-its and milk.
A baby has the ability to fall asleep at the drop of the hat when he/she is tired, overstimulated, growing, sick, or otherwise in the mood for some shut-eye. If I fell asleep when I experienced any of those things, it would happen 10-15 times a day on a typical day and I would be considered debilitatingly narcoleptic.
Babies sleep in some downright adorable positions. A favorite of mine is when they sleep on their tummies with their butts up in the air.. If I slept like that I would end up waking up with two totally dead arms, a swollen face, stiff neck, numb legs, and a back so screwed up I would have to hobble around like Quasimodo.
A young baby can wake up to eat 3-5 times a night. If that were me I would weigh 300 pounds easily.
Many babies need some kind of soothing device to fall asleep. My parents paid way too much money on orthodontic work for me to end up with a pacifier induced open-bite so that wouldn't work. I'm prone to motion sickess so rocking wouldn't go over well at all. That pretty much leaves a vibrating bed and I could list a slew of reasons why that would be a bad idea but I'll let you figure those out for yourselves.
And finally, the biggest reason I don't want to sleep like a baby is that their bowels are NOT diurnal which generally results in them shitting themselves nightly. I don't have much dignity left after 3 pregnancies, 3 labors, and 3 recoveries but luckily that is one area my dignity is firmly intact and I hope to keep it that way as long as I possibly can.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Anticlimactic
8/10/12
I was incredibly excited to learn what Charlotte's first full sentence was going to be. She had been speaking so many new words and many of them were advanced, but she still hadn't put a proper sentence together.
She frequently looked like she was thinking so hard about something and that at any moment she may spurt out the most articulate string of words ever spoken by a toddler. I had started to think that she was biding her time waiting for the perfect moment because she wanted it to be a grand accomplishment that made everyone's jaw hit the floor in awe.
We were in the kitchen and I was going through the typical lunchtime routine when I heard, "Mommy help, I can't reach my cheese."
One of the things I love the most about being a mom is that no matter what you anticipate from your kids as they reach new milestones, it's way more exciting when it actually happens.
I don't think there is any other application in life where you can have your hopes impossibly high and still have the real thing blow your expectations out of the water.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
I was incredibly excited to learn what Charlotte's first full sentence was going to be. She had been speaking so many new words and many of them were advanced, but she still hadn't put a proper sentence together.
She frequently looked like she was thinking so hard about something and that at any moment she may spurt out the most articulate string of words ever spoken by a toddler. I had started to think that she was biding her time waiting for the perfect moment because she wanted it to be a grand accomplishment that made everyone's jaw hit the floor in awe.
We were in the kitchen and I was going through the typical lunchtime routine when I heard, "Mommy help, I can't reach my cheese."
One of the things I love the most about being a mom is that no matter what you anticipate from your kids as they reach new milestones, it's way more exciting when it actually happens.
I don't think there is any other application in life where you can have your hopes impossibly high and still have the real thing blow your expectations out of the water.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Saturday, February 7, 2015
Unspoken words
In my experience most babies have the following set of facial expressions to convey their feelings at any given moment:
1. Happy - being played with, catching glimpses of familiar faces (including seeing themselves in a mirror), or being presented with their favorite food (or boob).
2. Mad - not thrilled about the carseat, diaper change, or nap that they are being subjected to
3. Hurt - medical procedures, being stepped on by the dog, or getting whacked in the face by an older sibling's toy
3. Scared - stranger danger, loud noises, or a feeling of falling
4. Uncomfortable - dirty diaper, sick, gassy, hungry, tired, or being held the wrong way
5. Curious/Coy - generally comes out around friendly strangers or when visiting a new place
Charlotte also conformed to this typical set of facial expressions except for a very specific one that she seemed to have inherited from her Daddy. I always described it as her "Mike Face." It tended to come out when meeting new people or being surrounded by a large group of people that were focusing their attention on her. When people asked me to describe the expression I was referring to, I tried using words like skeptical, apprehensive, or calculating but I just couldn't quite convey what I was talking about.
Then FINALLY some great friends of ours that are very frank and don't take themselves (or anything for that matter) too seriously hit the nail right on the head.
M and J: "Charlotte has the BEST FU face I've ever seen!"
And there you have it.
And then there were two
Charlotte had no clue what we were going to name her brother so I had never heard her say his name until she came to the hospital to meet him.
She crawled up into my lap and seemed quite apprehensive about the entire situation. She was looking at him with a curious little smirk and I asked, "Do you know what your brother's name is?"
She crawled up into my lap and seemed quite apprehensive about the entire situation. She was looking at him with a curious little smirk and I asked, "Do you know what your brother's name is?"
C: "Henny"
That tiny little voice with a random southern belle accent saying his name almost brought me to tears.
If I had known how adorable it was going to be I would have named him Henry Henry instead.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
The Master of Illeism
5/21/12
An interchange between Charlotte and Grammy:
Grammy:"Do I smell poopy?"
C: "Poopy ha ha"
Grammy: "Who is poopy?"
C: "The Charlotte"
Third person narrative and the use of definite articles. This girl is bound for a career in literature, right??
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
F Bomb
We were nearing the end of my pregnancy with Henry and the weekly trips to the doctor were too frequent to be exciting for 19 month old Charlotte. This meant that we had to come up with some new ways to keep her entertained.
That day we had all of the necessities including her favorite toys, books, crayons, and most importantly, a snack. This week she chose to bring a bag of black beans to munch on.... not weird at all.
Everything seemed to be working out. The waiting room was actually entertaining enough that we didn't have to pull out the big guns until we made it into the exam room. I was starting to feel like we were going to make it through the appointment without incident. Then the doctor walked in and in a matter of minutes Charlotte went from looking like a well adjusted child with an organized and prepared mother, to the next generation of damaged youth.
The inital red flag was when Charlotte spilled her beans on the floor. Usually she would do something like eat them off the floor, stomp on them to watch them explode, or try to convince Petey (the dog) to eat them. This time around she got all OCD and insisted on cleaning them up and even asked for a wet paper towel to wipe the floor with. If I was the doctor I would have been concerned that there were some child labor laws being seriously broken at home.
The second concern was when she decided to hop onto the scale to see how much she weighed. It unfortunately didn't come off as a small child engaging in imaginative play, but rather as more of a scheduled weigh in to ensure she was keeping a trim figure. It certainly didn't help when she said "wow, that's a lot of pounds!"
I was already getting a little nervous that the doctor would suggest I take my child in for a psychological evaluation (or myself to some parenting courses) when Charlotte decided to check her height. She lifted up that little arm that hangs low on the height rod and slowly started sliding it up. When she got it above her head she let it go assuming it would stay put but it slipped and hit her right in the head.
C: "Fuck!"
Yup, mother of the year here. My daughther dropped an F Bomb in the doctor's office.
I learned a couple of things that day:
#1 When there is an audience your kids will never behave normally
#2 There is this thing called receptive language and it starts way sooner than you would think.
Do yourself a favor and get a quarter jar while you're still pregnant.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Everything seemed to be working out. The waiting room was actually entertaining enough that we didn't have to pull out the big guns until we made it into the exam room. I was starting to feel like we were going to make it through the appointment without incident. Then the doctor walked in and in a matter of minutes Charlotte went from looking like a well adjusted child with an organized and prepared mother, to the next generation of damaged youth.
The inital red flag was when Charlotte spilled her beans on the floor. Usually she would do something like eat them off the floor, stomp on them to watch them explode, or try to convince Petey (the dog) to eat them. This time around she got all OCD and insisted on cleaning them up and even asked for a wet paper towel to wipe the floor with. If I was the doctor I would have been concerned that there were some child labor laws being seriously broken at home.
The second concern was when she decided to hop onto the scale to see how much she weighed. It unfortunately didn't come off as a small child engaging in imaginative play, but rather as more of a scheduled weigh in to ensure she was keeping a trim figure. It certainly didn't help when she said "wow, that's a lot of pounds!"
I was already getting a little nervous that the doctor would suggest I take my child in for a psychological evaluation (or myself to some parenting courses) when Charlotte decided to check her height. She lifted up that little arm that hangs low on the height rod and slowly started sliding it up. When she got it above her head she let it go assuming it would stay put but it slipped and hit her right in the head.
C: "Fuck!"
Yup, mother of the year here. My daughther dropped an F Bomb in the doctor's office.
I learned a couple of things that day:
#1 When there is an audience your kids will never behave normally
#2 There is this thing called receptive language and it starts way sooner than you would think.
Do yourself a favor and get a quarter jar while you're still pregnant.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
An inspiring gift
When Charlotte was about a year old my sister purchased an awesome gift for me, a keepsake journal to write down all of the ridiculous things Charlotte says which at the time was absolutely nothing.
I was pretty excited to start using the book so my first entry may have been a bit of a stretch. It also provides an insight to a part of my sense of humor that is not the most dignified but will crop up from time to time so you may want to prepare yourselves...
3.8.12
Charlotte has started to be all about plural words (babies, binkies, puzzles)...
I think she has said "balls" 10 times already today and I laughed EVERY SINGLE TIME.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
I was pretty excited to start using the book so my first entry may have been a bit of a stretch. It also provides an insight to a part of my sense of humor that is not the most dignified but will crop up from time to time so you may want to prepare yourselves...
3.8.12
Charlotte has started to be all about plural words (babies, binkies, puzzles)...
I think she has said "balls" 10 times already today and I laughed EVERY SINGLE TIME.
If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog or follow by email to be notified of future posts.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)