Jane. Enough Said.

So, there was a major shoulder surgery. There were many weeks of recovery as well as a nice haze of pain pills. Through the haze I noticed that my youngest child had suddenly turned into a little creature I did not recognize. But through the misery that was my recovery, it was hard to pay too much attention to it. Then, as the haze of pain pills faded and I entered back into life, I discovered what I had suspected...MY BABY HAS AN OPINION AND IT NEVER COINCIDES WITH MINE!!!!

Help me. I beg of you.

Now this is not my first time around on this motherhood thing. I've done this twice before. Once, with THE most opinionated and hard headed child in existence. Well, at least until Jane took his spot. Whoops...did I give away who I was talking about?? I thought nothing could possible compare with Jay. Right. Well, I'm throwing in the towel and admitting defeat. I AM IN FOR IT WITH THIS ONE!!!

She is a climber. She reminds me a bit of a cat. You know how they always like to be at the highest point in the room? So they can stare down and survey their kingdom? Jane is much like that. I have a mattress in front of my stairs because I finally got sick of pulling her off them every 3.5 seconds. A mattress. IN. FRONT. OF. MY. STAIRS. Very nice. Oh, and the trash can? Big piece of duck tape on that. Except that she has learned to pull off the duck tape. SO SHE CAN EAT THE TRASH. She worked for a good thirty minutes the other day to get that stupid duck tape off, then she found a piece of moldy bread. I had to pry it from her tiny, baby death grip as she screamed as if I were torturing her. Clearly, I was.

Speaking of eating, she DOESN'T. Unless it is a healthy portion of dog food, that I also have to pry out of said death grip. But put REAL food in front of her and she will look at you and SHAKE HER HEAD NO. Then she feeds it to the dog just to show me she's serious.

I have to put training pants over her diaper if there is the remote possibility that she can remove her diaper. I have walked into her bedroom twice to find no diaper and poop EVERYWHERE. Another instance where duck tape would come in handy, except that I'm afraid that someone might call the authorities on me.

And on that note of duck tape coming in handy, there is no longer a safe place that I can put this baby. I had her in her high chair, eating (or not) breakfast the other day as I got things ready to go to our playgroup. I turned around and she was SITTING ON THE HIGH CHAIR TRAY. I caught her as she fell backwards. She gave me a small heart attack. So I held her tightly, thanked God for the freebie, promised that I would learn a lesson from it and then got on the internet to order a new high chair in which she could not extract her person. For now anyway. But then, as my back is turned again for three second, I realize that I have forgotten to put up the dog food. I run into the kitchen and sure enough, she is eating it. BECAUSE DOG FOOD FOR BREAKFAST IS BETTER THAN PANCAKES. THAT'S WHY. I pry the dog food out of her hands, put both the dog food and water out of her reach, turn around again and she is STANDING on the rocking chair in the hearth room. I pull her off of that, put the cushions back on the chair, go to find her again and she is pulling the dirt out of my houseplants. At this point, I decided that if we WANTED to go to playgroup (please, please, please, Mommy needs to talk to an adult today!!) that I was going to have to resort to drastic measures. Having used up all the duck tape on the TRASH CAN, I strapped her in her carseat. In the car. I hummed to myself and got things ready as she screamed. Totally worth it.

Why does my baby want to kill me?? No, really. Why?

And just in case you've forgotten, Christmas is right around the corner. You know, with Christmas TREES. And shiny balls and lights? And presents wrapped in PAPER? With BOWS? The possibilities of destruction are just ENDLESS.

Jane says, "Happy Thanksgiving! Do you need me to clean out any of your cabinets? I'm very good at it."

On Sending Your Second Child to Kindergarten...

SCENE I: The den, the night before school starts. Children are in bed and parents have settled in for a relaxing evening.

ME: Wow. I can't believe I'm not sad about sending Annie to kindergarten. With Jay I was so emotional. This time, I'm just excited for her because I know she's going to love it so much!

JAMIE: I'm glad you're so rational about this.

SCENE II: After having dropped a happy Annie off in her classroom of thirty children on the first day of school, the mother heads to the library for a "Parent Tea" where she will discuss the addition of a new kindergarten teacher who will be added in two weeks to help cut down on classroom size.

ME: Wow. It's a good thing that this didn't happen when I sent Jay to kindergarten. It's exactly the thing that would have sent me over the edge. I was already so nervous. This time I'm so calm and I know it will all work out with the new teacher. I'm not worried about it at all!

FRIENDS: We're glad you're so rational about this.

SCENE III: The cafeteria on the first day of school, where the mother (who was turning in paperwork to the office) sneaks in to have a look at Annie only to discover she is BAWLING.

ME: MUH BAYBEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

THE END

So I didn't stay rational. Annie had a hard adjustment to kindergarten. The cafeteria was a scary place, her class size was crazy, she missed her preschool friends, and when the new teacher was hired her "VERY BEST FRIEND" (who she had known for a total of a week) got moved into the new class. There were tears. Some of them were mine. I worked lunch duty every day for three weeks straight to help with her adjustment. Somehow, just seeing me for a little portion of the day helped her so much. We made a "cry chart" (for Annie, not me...) that we filled with princess stickers and the promise of ice cream when it was filled. Amazingly, at the end of the cry chart, Annie had adjusted and now loves her new school. She loves her teacher and feels very comfortable and loved by her. The cry chart is history and I'm back to working lunch duty once a week, which is much more manageable. We talked a lot, a lot, a lot and I think it helped. So much of her reminds me of myself. She is sensitive, worries about things that she shouldn't even be thinking of, and takes to heart what other say. But she's stronger and more daring than I ever was or am now. That will serve her well in the future. I'm so impressed by her.

Happy Kindergarten days Annie. I love you and am SO proud of all your accomplishments!

Catching My Breath...

It's been so long since I've blogged. So long, in fact, that I couldn't remember how to sign in to my account. I tried log in name, after log in name....password, after password. Tried having my password emailed to me, but since I couldn't remember my log in name, it wouldn't send. Frustration mounted and I considered just chunking the whole thing and starting over. I went back to the home page in a last ditch effort, muttering to myself the whole time. Then I noticed...log in with your EMAIL ADDRESS. Clearly, I am not only sleep deprived, but also very unobservant. Gah. So here I am.

It's been more than a month since I last updated, and obviously, much has happened. The big kids have started back to school, Annie has had her first day of kindergarten AND turned six all in the same week, I managed NOT to have a breakdown as I realized "My baybeeeeee is growing up!!", I pulled lunch duty for three weeks straight, Jane started walking full time, Jamie had a birthday, Annie started back with her soccer team and ballet, Jay started piano and flag football, and I got scheduled for major shoulder surgery in October. With all that going on, and very little blogging happening, I realized that if I don't keep up with it, life is going to continue on and I'll never get it all written down. So here's to catching up and catching my breath.

Does this Minivan make Me Look like a Mom?

With the arrival of Jane Clare, we discovered we needed many things. This is because (as I have discussed in a previous entry) Jamie and I are not smart and you cannot make us be. We got rid of ALL our baby stuff before we were SURE we were done having children. This purging of baby items included my MINIVAN. A Ford Windstar that died shortly after we moved to Tulsa. We thought briefly of replacing it with another van, BUT...I WANT SOMETHING SMALLER!! I don't NEED room for a stroller anymore!! I want to DOWNSIZE! Code for: "I want to look like a Cool Mom." So we bought a Ford Freestyle. Oh yes...the epitome of "cool". Yes, you can wade through my sarcasm here, but it WAS smaller, felt less bulky and I was happy.

Then we had Jane. Wait...scratch that. The we had Jane and tried to travel. To Mississippi. At Christmas. With presents? And furniture. Hello? Nightmare. We have been riding three across the bench seat in the back. Two carseats and Jay in the middle. We couldn't put up the third row seat because I now have the stroller that I said I would no longer need, as well as soccer balls, soccer chairs, room for groceries, etc. Stop. Did I just qualify myself as a soccer mom? Shoot me, please.

Right. So no room in the car. Poor Jay is squished. And it was quickly becoming obvious that I needed a new vehicle. Perhaps a roomy SUV!! Yay! That's cool! Yes! An SUV with leather and a DVD player! And one of those power rear doors so that I don't have to lift anything! And a power folding third row seat! Yes! THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I WANT. Somehow Jamie did not see things in quite the same light. He brought me down to reality quite quickly. Did you know that reality is called "a price tag?"

So we went car shopping. Jamie drove me to the Honda place just to "look" at the Odyssey. I moaned the whole way about how I didn't NEED options in an SUV. Maybe I could just get a base model? "Just LOOK at the Odyssey before you decide on an SUV." So fine. I resigned myself to LOOK. And HATE. So THERE. I opened the door of the Odyssey and the light dawned on me. Minivans may not look that cool on the outside, but they scream "COOL!!!" on the inside. I fell in love immediately and told Jamie that we could keep looking but no SUV was going to compare to that Odyssey.

After doing some research, we did end up buying the very Odyssey at which I looked. I still cringe when I have to say that word "minivan", but I have found if I just replace it with the word "Odyssey" it works better. You know..."I've got to get the Odyssey detailed." "I'm taking the Odyssey to the Aerosmith concert." "I've got the sunroof open and I'm rocking out to Modest Mouse in the Odyssey." Totally cool. Right?

I took the kids to Walmart in the Odyssey today. Upon getting home from Walmart I noticed something on my shorts. Poop. On my shorts? That I was wearing? The ones that I wore out in public with people I KNOW? Gah. And I thought the minivan made me look uncool??

One Year

Today is Jane's first birthday.  Today she is walking around the house, arms raised over her head in her "Papa Tango" style.  Today she is playing her her new toys, chasing after the cats, and playing with Jay and Annie.  Today she learned to "pat" me.  I picked her up for her morning nap, "Can you give Mama a pat?" I asked.  She reached her little baby arm around my shoulder and patted my back.  It's funny, those little movements that take us totally by surprise.  Sure, I provide her every need and want, and she depends on me for everything, but it was that little movement that said, "Hey!  I really LIKE you Mama!" I wanted to shout, "You LIKE me!!  You really LIKE me!"  All Sally Fields and stuff.

It's amazing how far a year has brought us.  I could bore you with tales of how hard her pregnancy was, how worried we were that I would miscarry, the preterm labor, the preeclampsia.  THE 25 WEEKS OF BEDREST.  But I will say that Jane's healthy arrival, 5 weeks early, was such a triumph that it erased all those things. I could get all sappy here, but I won't.  Instead, I will leave you with this video of messy baby eating her birthday cupcake while her mother sings out of tune and the big kids make a lot of noise.  Happy Birthday sweet girl!  I'm so excited to get to know the person you are becoming!

And the Thunder Rolls...

So, we had some pretty good thunderstorms roll through at about midnight last night.  When I was a kid I used to love thunderstorms.  The sound of the rain was relaxing, and combined with the crashes of thunder and flashes of lightening provided just a hint of danger that I always loved.  I'd lie in the bed, listening and snuggle down under my covers, knowing that I was safe in my bed while the danger of the elements roared outside.  Nothing made me appreciate the security of my bed more than a good thunderstorm.

My children though?  Not so much.  Now when those thunderstorms roll through, I am instantly awake, no matter how small the thunder, awaiting the sound of small feet on the stairs.  I doze fitfully, in a semi-conscious state, knowing that at any moment the sound of "Mama!!" will interrupt any sleep that I manage to get.  And so it was last night.

I heard the thunder start up and pretty soon after that, the children came downstairs.  They were doing that half run, half walk...where your terrified, but you don't want anyone to KNOW you're terrified.  And where do they head first?  MY SIDE OF THE BED.  Now, let me just mention here that Jamie sleeps on the side of the bed closest to the door.  As in, as soon as you walk into our room, you would see his sleeping form.  But do the children EVER go to his side of the bed?  No.  They bypass him and head straight to me. 

This pattern is not just for thunderstorms, but also for any night wakings.  Thunderstorms, nightmares....and THROWING UP.  They will walk straight pass Jamie, AND THE BATHROOM, I might add, in order to stand in front of me.  I can't count the number of times I had to take my comforter in to be dry cleaned because someone ran straight to my side as if his sleeping, human form was NOT EVEN THERE, in order to say, "I've got to throw up!"  GO TO THE BATHROOM!!  I always yell.  And yet, they do not.  They come get me.  As if the sounds of retching would not jerk me out of ANY deep sleep I might be in.  I PROMISE...I will hear you!  I would just appreciate not having to get the carpet cleaner out JUST ONE TIME!  We actually run throw up drills at my house.  Yes, that's us.  Let's discuss our escape plan if ever we were to have a fire or some other tragedy...oh...and what do you do if you need to throw up??  They will say, "Run to the bathroom and call out for you!"  But what they really mean is, "Run PAST the bathroom, to your side of the bed so that we may throw up on the carpet and all over your Pottery Barn bedding!" 

Boy...THAT train just totally left the track it was on, didn't it?

So, anyway, back to the thunderstorms last night.  The children came in and I got them all settled in on pallets in our room.  I climbed back in bed, listened to the thunder crash and the lightening flash and enjoyed the security and warmth of my bed.  I snuggled down, this time knowing that it was not just me that was safe and secure, but all my little chicks too.  

Excuses....

I can't blog today because....

1.  It is so hot my fingers have swollen to a width that renders me incapable of using a keyboard.

2.  Michael Jackson died (did you hear about that???) and I'm overcome with grief.

3.  My children have taken over the house and will not grant me access to my computer.

4.  The barking dog is distracting me from deep and analytical prose.

5.  Uh...did I mention Michael Jackson?

In reality though, we've been gone and then here but occupied, and then gone and then here but occupied.  Now we are home again, but I have so much to write about that it will take me a while to get my thoughts organized.  And right now the children are beckoning me to swim.  Right now the pool water looks crystal blue and refreshing on this 100 degree day.  Right now Jay is singing at the top of his lungs to his i-pod.  Right now Annie is running around in her bathing suit and my sunglasses and flip flops.  Right now Jane is napping so it's a good time to swim.  Right now I can look at my calendar and see all that is looming in just a few weeks.  Right now I'm going to go enjoy my summer.

Competing with Pig Pen....

So last week was Jay's Cub Scout Day Camp.  I am STILL finding dirt in places that dirt should not BE.  Jamie and I spent the week out at Camp Russell, helping out as walking leaders.  Jamie took a whole week of vacation in order to help out.  When he first told me he was doing this, I was all for it, but the closer it came to time, I started dreading it.  I mean really, what family spends a week helping out at Day Camp and counts that as a family vacation?  What about the beach?  A trip to Branson?  Or just spending the week at home and sitting by the pool?  The more I thought about it, the more I regretted that he had wasted a whole week of vacation and not only would we not be able to go anywhere, but we had to get a babysitter to watch Jane for the week.  And WAHHHHH...we had to get up early EVERY DAY.

I love it when I'm wrong.  Okay, really, that's not true (mostly because I'm NEVER WRONG...), but in THIS instance I love that I was wrong.  We had a fantastic time.  Jane was well cared for all week long and had a great time with our babysitter, who she knows and loves.  Jay, Annie, Jamie and I headed off every morning at 8:15, loaded down with sunscreen, bug spray, lunches, camera, and hats.  Annie had a great time doing arts and crafts in the children's program there, and even got to participate in the cooler activities like the zipline, marshmallow gun making and astroid shooter making (space camp theme...).  And Jay was in hog heaven with all of his friends (we had 15 boys in our group).  So THAT meant that Jamie and I got to spend the whole week actually talking to each other and managing to complete sentences without being interrupted by little people every 3.2 seconds.  Huh...that NEVER happens!  And while we were walking leaders (meaning that we actually had to CONTROL 15 boys), we had very few discipline problems.  The boys were a joy to be around and Jamie and I had a great time declaring "war" on each other with our spray bottles and marshmallow guns and having the boys pick a side.  They thought we were COOL!  And the moment I overheard Jay tell another boy who was not in our pack, "That's MY mom!"  I knew it was all worth it.  I won't get many more moments like that with him.  Especially because I TOTALLY intend to take him to school one day in my pajamas and robe and my hair in rollers.  You know, just to mess with his MIND.

And we came home FILTHY.  Filthy like you cannot even imagine filthy being.  After sweating all day (98 degrees most days were were out there), and being one with the bugs and dirt, plus my dramatic "falls" every time one of the boys shot me with their marshmallow gun, we all had a nice layer of mud on us by the time we ventured home.  We'd walk up the long hill and trek to our car.  The car that had been sitting in the sun for the past 8 hours and was approximately 4,000 degrees when we opened the door and the heat slammed us in the face. So then we'd get in, blast the air and by the time we got home, the seats would be filled with small mud puddles as the sweat on the backs of our legs combined with the dirt on our bodies.  Nice visual, no? Never been so happy to have leather seats.  

But getting home and jumping in the pool was an instantaneous relief.  And after swimming for a while, we would all be so tired that all we wanted was dinner and bed.  It was that good kind of tired where you are completely exhausted and know you will sleep like the dead.  And we did.  By Friday night, Jamie and I were asleep in our respective chairs by 8:30 pm.  Somehow the kids movie, "Mr. Troop Mom" was not entertaining enough to keep us awake.  Can't imagine how.  

So in the end, despite my reservations, it was a fantastic week.  A good week to end on since Jay won't be able to go next year since he'll be too old (sob!!).  But it's always better to leave wishing for more than to be glad it's all over with.  

A Blueberry Pancake Haiku

Blueberry pancakes:

A good theory, but big mess.

Blue stains everything.

In Celebration of Road Trips Everywhere...

So it's summer!  And of course, that means travel time.  The kids and I just got back from a trip to Mississippi where we surprised my mother for her 21st birthday.  It was a fantastic trip, only made better by the hour and a half that Jane spent SCREAMING on the way there.  We were in Arkansas.  Arkansas is longer than I thought it was.  Maybe it was the screaming??  The older children and I had just about had enough of it.  Our nerves were SHOT.  Even Jay, who has the patience of Job with this baby, pleaded with her, "Jane....puleeeeez stop screaming.  I'm going to lose my mind!!!!"  At which point, Jane turned the volume up to "torture everyone" and Annie said, "Way to GO Jay...now she's even LOUDER." About that time we passed by this HUGE billboard on the side of the interstate.  It said, "USE THE ROD....SAVE YOUR CHILDREN'S LIVES!"  My second thought (the first being, "Wha.....????") was "Where's the rod?  I want MY stinking rod!!" They should maybe give those out at rest stops.  

All in all though, the drive went well.  Except for the part where Jane had a blow out diaper and McDonalds had no changing table.  And I couldn't figure out how to use the bathroom myself, what with having to HOLD THE BABY and all.  But, I am industrious and I figured it all out.  I pulled a high chair into the bathroom with Jane in it (after changing her clothes in the back seat of the car).  I got a lot of strange looks and laughs, but one mother stopped to tell me what a good idea that was and that she would be using it when SHE traveled.  SO THERE.  I think after eight years of traveling with small children by myself, I could probably write a book on hints and tricks.  

All jokes aside though, it was a wonderful time with Mama and Daddy.  I wouldn't have traded my time with them for anything.  Well worth an eight hour drive.  And I plan to do it again in a few weeks!! And so, in celebration of road trips everywhere, I thought I would copy this letter that I wrote to my father when he was in Iraq.  My mother and I had taken the kids to my grandparents to visit.  Annie was three and Jay was five.  It was a....memorable...ride home. The title of the email was "Guts".  Intriguing...no? 

"Dear Daddy,

Did you miss me?  I thought you might enjoy a rendition of our trip home today.  It is possible that you have already heard part of this, but I thought you might enjoy my take on the day's events...

So, we left Belzoni at 9:45 this morning after loading the car in the POURING rain.  Seriously.  Pouring.  The only time it let up was when I came inside to kiss Mimi and Papa goodbye and change my soaking wet clothes into something dry.  Of course as soon as it was time to walk out the door and get the kids in carseats, it started up again.  What FUN.  Anyway, we were about an hour into our trip when Jay nonchalantly says, "There's a fly in this car." Which apparently in Annie's mind meant, "There's a serial killer with a machete in this car."  She started SCREAMING AND SCREAMING AND SCREAMING.  I mean, she was HYSTERICAL.  You would have thought she was being attacked with the way she was carrying on.  And there was no telling her that flies don't hurt you....oh NO...in her mind they are obviously buzzing little baby eaters or something.  We opened the windows (still raining I might add....) so the fly would fly out.  It did not.  However, I have become quite adept at the art of lying, and so I LIED and told her the fly had gone out the window.  But she is a smart cookie and while she did calm down she insisted that Nana hold her hand.  "Nana...HOLD MY HAND!!!!!" Over and over again.  So, Nana holds Annie's hand until HER hand falls asleep, at which point she PRIES her hand out of Annie's and turns back around in her seat.  Annie does not like this, but we are dealing with it UNTIL Jay says, very quietly, "Mama, there's the fly again." Which translates to, "Mama, there's a large prehistoric insect getting ready to eat us back here..."  Annie starts screaming again.  By now I am on a two lane road that I did not want to get off of for fear of getting behind a big truck that I had passed a ways back.  I was on this road for 22 miles.  and for 22 miles Annie was hysterical.  I tried yelling, pinching, being funny, distraction, EVERYTHING.  What finally worked was Nana trapping the fly and smearing the fly guts all over my window while she killed with with the atlas.  But that's good though because it was EVIDENCE that the fly was dead, which Annie appreciated.  

Speaking of guts though it was not much later that we were driving down the interstate and I noticed a BIG black bird in the median.  Of course, it did what all birds in the median do.  It flew directly AT my car.  The problem was though, that this particular bird was having a nice snack of some dead animal and decided that take out was the way to go here.  So, it had some of whatever dead animal it was eating in its claws when it took off.  Apparently the bird misjudged the weight of his snack though and could not get enough lift to avoid my car, so at JUST the right moment it dropped the load RIGHT onto my windshield.  I have no idea what it was...just a big, wet, orange splatter.  Jay REALLY got a kick out of this one.  Thankfully it rained ALL the way home so I didn't have to look at smeared guts for long...at least the guts on my windsheild"

So there you have it!  Happy travels everyone!!

Buh-bye

So, Jane has perfected her wave.  This happened yesterday afternoon and I immediately acted like a fool and went NUTS.  "My BAYBEEEE!!!!  SHE CAN WAVE!!!!!" You know, waving, winning the Nobel Peace Prize...whatever.  

Anyway, today went something like this:

ME: Jane!  Say Buh-Bye!  Say Buh Bye!  Wave at Mama!  Say Buh-Bye!  Say Buh Bye! Look at Mama!  Say Buh-Bye!!

JANE: (looking away...at anything other than me) Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Da (because HE carried the baby for nine months).

ME: Jane!!  Buh-Bye!  Look at Mama!!  (Yes Jane, look at Mama act like an idiot!!) Say Buh-Bye!!  Buh-Bye!  Wave for Mama!  Buh-Bye!! You can do it!!  Buh-Bye!!

JANE: (finally lifting one, tiny baby hand and giving a wave at herself) Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Da

ME:  THAT'S RIGHT!!  WHAT A SMART BABY!!  YOU WAVED!!  GOOD GIRL!!!  SO BIG!! JANE IS SO BIG!!  WHAT A GOOD GIRL!!   Jane!! Do it again!! Say Buh-Bye!  Say Buh-Bye! Say Buh-Bye!! 

You can totally see where this is going...

But it's so funny, because every time she does this wave, she looks at her hand and gets this expression like, "What is this??  Why is my hand doing this? Am I MAKING this happen?"  Probably what she is really thinking is, "Anything to get that woman over there to shut up!"  

Today when she was napping (or NOT napping, would be more appropriate) I went into her room to give her the pacifier that I was certain had fallen to the floor.  When she saw me, she stopped her wailing and raised her arms to be picked up.  I lifted her out of the bed, cuddled with her for a  minute and then laid her back in with her pacifier.  She started crying again, but this time the crying was accompanied by the most pitiful little wave you ever did see.  It was as if she was saying, "Look how cute I am Mama!  Circus Baby will perform for you and you will feel sorry for her and remove her from her crib, no?" No, I didn't remove her, but I did give her an extra kiss.  

This video is evidence of my high pitched, stupid sounding voice as I try to coax her into waving.  I cannot believe I am actually putting this out there for all you to listen to.  Probably you should invest in some ear plugs first.  Anyway, she DOES wave twice in this video.  Once in the very beginning, then you get to listen to me acting like a fool (but you can enjoy the cute baby while your ears bleed) and then she waves again at the very end.  

Baby Laughter...

Jane is fascinated by 5 things....Jay, Annie, the two cats and the dog.  I recorded her laughing with Annie today.  Prior to Annie walking in the room, she was inconsolable.  Annie walked in, the tears immediately stopped and the laughter began.  So, this just goes to show me that next year? I'll be dropping her off in Annie's kindergarten class when things get tough.  

At Nine Months

Dear Jane,

You have now been here longer than I was pregnant with you.  That is a concept so strange to me that I cannot even put it into words.  How can that be?  I was only pregnant for 35 weeks, but that was the absolute LONGEST 35 weeks of my entire life.  How is it possible that THESE nine months have flown by?  That now that I want time to slow down, it seems to be speeding up to a pace I cannot keep up with?

I have been using the phrase, "This time last year..." a lot lately.  A Lot.  And this time last year I can tell you exactly what we were doing.  We were painting your nursery, and I was having fits of hysteria.  Not because I was having a baby, but because I was having preterm labor issues among other things and I was truly afraid that I was painting your room a fabulous shade of "Paris Pink" that I was going to regret terribly if something went wrong.  Nice attitude, huh?  Honestly though, I can remember standing in your closet, inspecting all the work that Daddy did and wondering how emotionally painful it was going to be if we had to repaint it all.  And taking the tags off your clothes to wash them before your arrival?  Daddy literally had to FORCE me to do it.  I wouldn't even pack a hospital bag for you.  This woman?  Your mother?  She has some Issues.  

Oh but now...now Miss Jane, you are happy, and healthy and LOUD.  And I delight in every single baby scream you let loose.  Even the ones that make the dog run for cover and the cats flee, leaving little claw marks on the couch as they scramble for safety.  You are that loud.  That's been the funniest thing lately.  You have discovered the volume control on your voice and you love to go from whispering, "BabababaBABABABABABABABABA" to screaming as loud as you possibly can.  Jay and Annie think this is so funny, and they encourage you every chance they get.  Just one more way that I am outnumbered in more ways than I can even imagine.  

You are crawling everywhere, pulling up, standing (when you don't realize it) and so close to clapping that I expect it is just days away. You started to sign "milk" today, although Daddy won't count it yet because you have only done it twice.  But it was at exactly the right time, both times, so I'm counting it.  I'm your Mama and I will always give you the benefit of the doubt.  Your two bottom teeth have FINALLY made their way through and you are sleeping much better.  And because of THAT, I am a much nicer person to live with.  

Jane, I have a question for you though. Why does 5:45 pm always send you right over the edge?  Can you actually TELL time?  Do we have a genius baby on our hands here?  It doesn't matter if you wake from your afternoon nap at 2:30 or 4:30, when that clock hits 5:45 we had all BETTER TAKE COVER.  The screaming begins.  And child...you can scream.  Not only do you scream though, you have this noise of displeasure that I cannot describe.  The closest thing I can come to describing it is to say that it reminds me of "Mr. Peepers" on those old Saturday Night Live skits. Or maybe even the Tasmanian devil.  It's a lot of raspberry blowing, spitting, with the occasional angry consonant sound thrown in.  You do this whenever you are mad about anything.  Diaper changes, falling down, having sharp objects and house plants pried out of your hands.  I imagine this noise, properly translated, would be something like this, "Why.  Why, oh Mother, do I have to live in this world where I must lie on my back to have you change my diaper?  Why must I live in a place where the clothes TOUCH MY BODY and the wind dares to blow across my skin??  The injustice of it all pains me greatly."

But, when you are happy, you are SOOOOO happy.  Yesterday you discovered the joys of wrestling. I laid on the floor and you crawled all over me, burying your head in my shoulder, giving me wet, open mouth kisses, and giggling as I grabbed hold of you and rolled over while tickling you.  You thought that was the most fun ever!  Annie joined us and you laughed and laughed as I tickled her.  And you screamed in anticipation as I said, "I'mmmmmmm gonnaaaaaaa geeeeeeeeetttttttt YOU!"  And on the "YOU"  I tickled both of you at the same time and you fell over you were laughing so hard.    

So this is my first Mother's Day as the mother of three.  It has been such a special day.  Last year was spent painting your nursery.  Anticipation, excitement, and fear were the major emotions.  This year?  Laughter and contentment.  Thank God for that.  

You bring as much joy to me as Jay and Annie do...and that says a lot, my little girl.  I just never imagined that that much joy could be multiplied by three.  

I love you,

Mama

The Money Gun...

So, it's been one of THOSE months.  You know how things are going along swimmingly and then all of a sudden, BOOM...everything breaks all at once.  My father always says, "Get out the money gun!" and that's exactly what we have been doing since April.  Um...the money gun?  It will need to be reloaded soon. 

First it was the pool motor.  Jamie and I have a long standing joke (if you can count the two summers we've been in Oklahoma as "long standing") with that pool.  I keep telling him that I'm going to get a sign to place above the pool equipment that reads, "How hard could it be?"  Because THAT is the sentiment that we run across EVERY TIME we do something with that pool.  I keep referring to it as "that pool".  We really do love "that pool".  Unless we are having to do something to FIX "that pool".  Even the simplest of tasks turn into something major when we are dealing with it.  But I digress.  Yes, a new motor.  And as soon as got that thing hooked up, bubbles started coming out of the jets where bubbles should not BE.  We are ignoring the bubbles.  Pretending that they are a nice jet feature to our pool.  We will be blind to them for at least another two weeks.  First we have to get through the shower remodel.

The shower remodel??  Why, YES.  "Shower remodel" has such a nice ring to it.  Like something you would choose to do.  You know, add some lovely spa features...make it really nice...that sort of thing.  Or, it could just be one tiny little tile that has fallen off.  Not even a full tile, just a half of one, right where the wall meets the floor.  No biggie?  But, when we called to get an estimate on just putting that tiny tile back in, the tile guy informed us we would have to gut the whole thing and start over.  Surely he was kidding?  Except that three other tile guys told us the same thing.  So either they are in some sort of conspiracy to send Jamie that much closer to a heart attack, or they are actually telling the truth.  Rats.  The work on that began last week.  But not before we replaced the garage door.

Oh...riiiiiight.  The garage door incident.  Otherwise known as, "The Day Malinda Can No Longer Say 'I Told You So' When Jamie Messes Up". Not that I do that.  Much.  So, I was headed to pick Jay up from school.  It was a lovely day, full of sunshine, and we decided to walk.  I got Jane loaded into the stroller, Annie on her bike, and then used the keypad to shut the garage door.  As it was coming down, I noticed that the car was not pulled all the way into the garage.  "WAAAAAAAIIIIIIITTTTTT"  I cried in slow motion. But the garage door?  It is not voice activated.  And as I discovered about four seconds later, it also does not retract.  It dug into my car, sending me into a panicked sort of chicken dance steppy thing in the driveway as I chanted, "No! No! No!  Daddy is going to kill me!!!"  Then, mercifully, the garage door finally stopped.  I assumed it had come off its track since it wouldn't move.  When Jamie got home (and he DIDN'T kill me, or even make me squirm for that matter-I was sure I'd be on double, secret probation.) he said he thought he could fix it over the weekend.  The weekend came and when he actually looked at it, he realized that door was in bad shape.  All the hardware had popped off since the force of the NON-RETRACTING door NOT RETRACTING as it continued to try to close on my car (thus NOT RETRACTING) had really messed things up.  Stupid non-retracting door.   So we called a garage door guy.  I'll give you one guess about what HE said.  Guess what though....my new door?  IT retracts. 

So.  The motor.  The shower.  The garage door.  All in the last three weeks. Oh...and I forgot to mention the oven we replaced a few months ago since it caught fire.  And that fire extinguisher you have in your kitchen?  You should not used that to put out an oven fire.  It will only mean that you have to replace your oven.  Yeah...didn't know that.   

It happens though.  Part of home ownership...blah blah blah.  Then we came home from soccer games today, opened up the back door, and Darla was standing there on three legs.  To be clear here, she HAS a fourth leg, she just wouldn't put any weight on it.  She looked terrible.  We checked her out, tried to figure out what could have possibly happened to her.  The best I can come up with is a UPI.  You know, "Unidentified Potty Injury".  All I know is DARLA'S not telling.   The three legged walking continued. She wouldn't put any weight on that leg at all. I was just sure it was broken.  So, Jamie headed off to the vet with Darla in tow.  I was WORRIED about her. This dog, who drives me crazy half the day.  She goes through the bathroom trash cans incessantly, barks while Jane is sleeping, wants to play endless games of fetch while I am trying to work, hounds all visitors who come to our door . But she follows me around whenever we are home, she looks at me as if I hung the moon.  She is my walking partner, my cooking partner, and she loves my children with a devotion that I would have NEVER imagined could come from a dog. She's my friend and I love that dumb dog.  A really, really lot.  And three hundred dollars later, we find out she has a bad sprain.  This time? Totally worth it.

                                              

Mommy Stoopid...

Man...that's two posts in a row following the same theme of Stupidity.  Probably a common theme in my life though, and the subject of many a blog post.

See this piece of baby equipment?  This harmless thing.  Looks like a booster seat, right?  Yes, I do believe that's the name they go by in stores, but what they are REALLY called is, "The Chair that will make You Look Really Stupid in a Restaurant"  Just won't fit on the manufacturer's label.  

This particular chair was given to me by one of my very good friends.  I have inherited a lot of baby equipment with this baby, from some fabulous people.  And it's a good thing too since Jamie and I gave EVERYTHING away after Annie was born.  Yes...we are THOSE people who decide to sell everything in a garage sale, and then buy it all again in order to have one more baby.  Anyway, I digress...the chair...it is rockin'!  I've never had such good baby stuff before! So tonight, when we ventured Out to Eat for one of the first times in nine months, we decided to break it out.

Oh and Jane...she loved it!  She was so comfortable and ate all of her cheerios.  She was happy the whole time we were there.  And Jamie and I, we SANG the praises of "The Chair that will Make you Look Really Stupid in a Restaurant". And then it was time to leave.  Jamie took Jane so he could get her in her carseat and I took the big kids and told him I'd grab The Chair.  Ahhh..."grab the chair".  What an innocent expression from the naive.  

So this is one of those chairs that slides onto the end of a table.  You tighten up the knobs on it to keep it in place. Tightening up the knobs took a bit of work...people were LOOKING at me, but hey, it's all worth it for the happiness of one small person who will let me eat a meal mostly uninterrupted.  But untightening those knobs...my GOSH.  I started turning those things and after a good two minutes on the first one I was making no progress.  I had the two older children who were turning circles around the table like hyper little dogs.  I kept twisting, and then changed directions, thinking that perhaps I was turning it the wrong way.  I kept repeating, "Lefty loosey, righty tighty" OUT LOUD.  The people on either side of me were now avidly paying attention.  They were both mothers, both silently laughing at my struggle with The Chair.  The big children were still bouncing back and forth between the walls and tables, like little ping pong balls, narrowly missing knocking into servers with trays full of drinks.  It was then that I realized that I was slowly losing control of both my children AND The Chair.  I began to sweat. 

And like Skinner's rats who pressed a button and were rewarded for every 56th push (What??  YOU didn't learn about that in psychology?) I finally managed to get the first knob unscrewed!  And now knowing it CAN be done, I began working on the second knob.  This time I couldn't even TURN the knob.  Evidently, I have Super Human strength when loose knobs mean that my baby will go crashing to the floor.  I can't imagine how I managed to get it so tight, but I could NOT. MOVE. IT.  I contemplated just leaving the thing and letting Jamie deal with it, but then it became a QUEST.  ME....against THE CHAIR.  And I WILL DO THIS.  

I finally managed to loosen it, still repeating, "Lefty loosey, righty tightey..." I turned around and the mother who was silently laughing at me earlier is now in a full blown hysterical fit over my plight.  Other patrons were watching the spectacle I was making of my myself between my children, The Chair, and my sweating and furious turning of the knobs.  I briefly wondered what I would have done had Jamie not been with me to take Jane.  I turned to her and said, "I fully expect Ashton Kutcher to pop around the corner at any second and say, 'You've been Punked!'" And at that moment, I actually glanced up to see if the cameras were heading for me.  They weren't.  I can't even get five minutes of fame out of this deal with this chair? What. Ever.

But I did prevail!  I won!  I beat the chair!  I took it out of the restaurant victoriously as the servers held the doors for me to make my triumphant exit.  As I left I saw Jamie standing by the car.  "Why didn't you get in?"  I asked him while getting ready to explain what took me so long.  "You have the keys," he replied.  Sigh.  

I'm Not Smart...and You Can't Make Me Be.

So you will notice WAY back on April 16th, I mentioned a sore right ear and sinuses being wrecked.  I see that I also mentioned going to the doctor.  Huh.  Funny that, because I DIDN'T.  Instead, I put it off because I was busy with the party and life and "Hey!  This will totally get better without the help of medical intervention!  Who needs medical intervention?!! Certainly not those of us who can make ourselves better with SHEAR FORCE OF WILL!"  And yes, I am totally married to a NURSE people.  Also, my will??  It is strong!

But not strong enough.  I suffered through two weeks of not being able to hear, and off and on ear pain.  The sinuses never got better and then sometime Wednesday afternoon my throat started hurting.  So yes, I know what you are thinking..."THEN you went to the doctor on Thursday like a sane person, right Malinda?"  Uh no.  I adopt this thinking from my Daddy, "I am not smart and you can't make me be."  No, instead I spent Thursday at the dentist with Jay, and ran four frillion errands, and Friday I worked a garage sale and a book fair.  And WALKED TO PICK UP JAY.  On the way home from that walk my father called me.  I answered the phone sounding like an old lady who has smoked ten too many packs of Marlboros.  He said, "Man, you don't SOUND good!"  I said, "Oh!  This?  I'm fine!  It's just allergies!  Been going on for weeks!"  And then I got off the phone and it occurred to me that actually?  I didn't feel that great.  

Ahh...but Saturday is another day!  And we had soccer games!  Two of them!  And I felt terrible for both.  But there was no time for wallowing because Annie had an accident (before the game even began!) and bumped her head on someone else's head. I believe her exact words were, "Olivia's head is BERY HARD!!" The blood...it was EVERYWHERE.  And I turned into MacGyver and totally rigged up an ice pack as well as used Janie's wipes to get the blood cleaned up...and didn't even get any on my white shorts!  I rock!!  And who wears white shorts to a soccer game anyway?? But that Annie, she wanted to PLAY.  She had to get back in the game Right Now.  And she did and even scored a goal.

I digress though.  We made it home from the games and I realized how Very Badly I was feeling.  So I told Jamie I was headed to the minor medical clinic to go ahead and get seen because I knew that come Monday I would be in bad shape and who has time for the doctor on  Monday?  That is TOTALLY Walmart day!  So I arrived at the minor medical clinic and guess what??!! My insurance does not COVER minor medical visits!  Seriously?  They would rather me sit in a crowded ER for eight hours or so to get some antibiotics?  What. Ever. So I PAID the 95 dollars and They. Will.  Hear. From. Me.  Best 95 dollars I ever spent though.  Apparently I have strep, a terrible sinus infection and an ear infection.  

I am now and the proud owner of five shiny, new pill bottles.  Two steriods, an antibiotic, a decongestant, and a narcotic for the pain.  It's been a long and bad day today, but I think I might be coming out of my fog finally.  I feel certain that a Monday in my jammies will take care of the rest of it.  

So, what did I learn from this?  Probably not too much, other than Darvocet makes me unable to remember ANYTHING.  Which is why I cannot for the life of me think of the funny poop story that I referenced WAY back on April 16th.  Huh.  Maybe it will come back to me.  Or maybe it is forever locked away in the dark recesses of MommyBrain, never to be seen or heard from again.  Oh well.  While I try to remember, enjoy some pictures of the children.  I snapped these during my brief stint outside (in my jammies!!  Horror!!) while Jamie entertained them with promises of swimming in our non-heated, freezing cold swimming pool.  Clearly he wants

us all to be sick this week!!

Annie is a TRUE member of the Polar Bear Club.  Don't worry...we got her out before her kidney's began to shut down.  And yes, you TOO could be the proud owner of the dead plant to the right of Annie IF you possessed my ROCKING gardening skills.  It will be removed this week.

Jay might not always have enough sense to come in out of the rain, but he CERTAINLY has enough sense to get out of that cold pool.  Smarter than the average bear, that boy is!

Nobody puts Baby in a corner!!!  I'm sorry....that was just so fitting here....

A Letter of Request

Dear Jane's Bottom Two Teeth, 

Hello...I am Jane's mama.  You know, the lady who you are torturing with you ever so sllllloooooowwww ascent through Jane's gums?  The woman who's baby has not taken a decent nap in DAYS.  The woman whose baby went from a happy little imp to looking like this:

You know, I am trying to be patient here.  I do appreciate your presence. After all, one cannot partake in the joys of steak and lasagna without you.  But do you realize that you are taking away my baby's sweet, toothless grin? I know Jane would look awfully silly if she had no teeth by the time she was....say....six, but at the same time, I am trying to hold onto to every baby moment here.  And cutting teeth?  Why that just means we are one step closer to getting a driver's license and going off to college.  So in the meantime, I'll hold on to every toothless grin I can get.

But little teeth, my patience...it IS wearing thin.  You are very sneaky, one day looking like you are about to break through and the next day HIDING and making me think that I am seeing things.  You should not do this because when you are my age and you have a baby, you tend to think you have lost your mind on a daily basis.  Your sneaky ways do not help me in my quest to Keep It Together.  

So, both Jane and I implore you...please help us out and make your way through her tender little gums already and end the torture for all of us.  We are tired of the statement, "Forgive her attitude, she is teething."  

You are the source of all her pain and anguish.  How does this make you feel??

Respectfully,

Jane's Mama

And then it Rained...

So Jay's National Treasure birthday party was last weekend.  And yes, you are right, I SHOULD have blogged about it by now.  But I have excuses!  Tons of them!!  Four soccer games and two practices in the past four days!  A shower that needs to be completely gutted and retiled!  In-laws that visited!!  Jane is cutting two teeth!!  And did I mention those soccer games?  And while I'm on the soccer games, Annie's team came close to winning yesterday.  It's the closest they've ever come.  She scored a goal, it was fantastic.  They were tied until the very last minute when the other team scored the winning goal.  Annie didn't realize they had scored and came off the field SO EXCITED!!  Then the coach broke it to her that they had lost.  You would have thought her dog had died.  She was so sad.  It took me fifteen minutes to get her to stop crying.  Bless her....

Okay, but the BIRTHDAY was this weekend!  True to form, Jay got up at literally the CRACK of dawn.  My kids...they love to celebrate an occasion.  Even Valentine's Day causes a lost night's sleep.  So, we were up EARLY, which suited me just fine since Annie's game started at nine o'clock and we needed to get moving.  The threat of rain was high that day, but as we watched the weather, the meteorologist assured us that the front had stalled out, the rain would not be around until the evening hours!  Good news for the party!

Now, let me just mention here the TIME and EFFORT this party took.  I glued together a jeweled treasure box.  Burned my finger.  Made jeweled goodie bags, made maps of the nature park, and then spent HOURS putting together the actual hunt.  You know, the hunt that was supposed to take place OUTSIDE...at the nature park??  This was probably two weeks worth of work.  But don't worry....it's for Jay.  My first born...light of my life....joy of my heart (as all my children are).  What's two weeks when it means that I will get to see the look of joy and wonderment on his face as we are at the party and he realizes, "My mother...she did this for ME!!"  Clearly...I have lost what little brains I have left after this most recent baby. 

So...right...the rain.  I was quite happy to hear that I didn't have to worry about it until the evening hours.  Ha!  Let Jamie deal with it as he cooks ribs!  That's not MY deal!!  We had presents that morning, did the soccer games, got home and it came time for me to go to the park to decorate.  I checked the radar and not a speck of green was to be found.  So, Annie and I loaded up the car and headed to the park to get all set up.  And when I say "set up",  I mean that we unloaded a small portion of the car, hauled it five minutes up hill to the gazebo, went back to the car and repeated this process no less than 25 times.  We finished unloading as the first guests arrived.  Obviously, I did not allow enough time for the two of us, one being a small person with small arms and short legs, to walk up and down a huge hill four thousand times, arms loaded with party gear.  I began setting up. All the guests arrived!  Then Jay arrived with Jamie, the in-laws and the baby!  Pictures were taken!  Excitement!  Boys running everywhere! Nature trails to explore! Birthday madness ensues!!  Treasure hunt time was upon us!!  It began to sprinkle.  Seriously??

But, we are treasure hunters and we press on!  Back down the hill I trudged to hide the treasure box ( in a thicket of thorns I might add...wouldn't want life to be too easy for those eight year olds!).  Back up the hill and we were ready to begin!  We passed out map, compasses and explained the game.  They were beyond excited, and ready for the games to begin.  We headed out to take care of the first clue.  Running!!  Screaming!!  Excited boys!!  They solved the first clue and decoded their next destination.  Wait....was that a rumble of thunder?  Naaaahhhh...keep going.  COULDN'T HAVE BEEN THUNDER?? As we arrive at the second destination there is a DEFINATE rumble of thunder.  You MUST be kidding me!  

But!  We are good sports!!  Am super mom!  Will just head back to the gazebo and wait for this passing storm while we do cake and ice cream, presents, and the pinata.  The treasure hunt...it WILL prevail!  Only it didn't.  It poured.  And poured.  And poured some more.  It poured for an entire hour.  Suddenly, we were covered in green on the radar and had no hope of it letting up.  

Finally, with soaking wet, excited boys, we decided to pack it in and continue the hunt at my house.  Only first we have to get there.  In the pouring rain.  Hauling load after load in the pouring rain.  And retrieving the treasure box from the thorny thicket that had then become a mud pit.  We all learned why exactly I USE a flat iron on my hair.  After a good thirty minutes of hauling stuff in the pouring rain, I get muddy, wet boys loaded into my car and we head to my house. Oh...and did I mention the pouring rain? As we pull out of the nature center parking lot, the rain slacked up.  As we pull into my neighborhood it is only a sprinkle.  After we get boys and treasure hunting supplies out of the car, THE SUN COMES OUT.  I kid you not.  Now, I have a good and faithful God, so I can only assume that He was keeping one of those wild boys from a broken arm or something during that treasure hunt...right??

We finished the treasure hunt inside my house.  With muddy, wet boys.  I swept up dirt for the next three days.  When I asked Jay if he had fun, he said, "YES!  It was a GREAT adventure!!"  Mission accomplished. 

Distractions

I have things to write about.  Funny stories about poop (intriguing, no?), things to tell about Jay's birthday party and how busy this week has been between bible study, getting ready for our grandparent visitors, birthday excitement and planning, so on and so forth.  But instead, I am spending the five minutes between feeding Jane her bottle and fixing children's hair (a time that I usually spend making my bed...my sacrifices for you AMAZE me!!) to jump on and say my sinues are wrecked. And my right ear hurts.  And I can't hear out of it.  And I haven't been able to hear out of it for the past two days.  And my head is killing me.  And motrin is not working. And so, instead of composing creatively written prose, I feel like I am underwater and the sound of anything is driving me crazy.   So, I think I am going to the doctor today, neglecting what I NEED to be doing to get ready for this birthday party. Meh. But I guess ears are sort of important and probably I should take care of this before it completely knocks me on my fanny.

So I will return (victorious over whatever bug this is!!!) to tell you funny stories about poop.  Can't wait, can you?

Quote of the day....

"It's not you...it's me..." 

This is what Jay said to Annie just seconds ago as they were playing wii.  He wanted something, she wanted something else and told him that he never cooperated with her.  He said he knew, but he just HAD to do this one thing.  "It's not you...it's me."  Said with complete and utter sorrow and everything.  After discovering how well it worked on his sister, I guess he'll keep this line for future use.  

Lost in Space

The Millennium Falcon is not here.  I won it on ebay, I paid the next day, and yet it is still not here.  I finally sent a message to the seller today and he said he is mailing it today.  We are cutting it rather close for Jay's birthday next weekend.  And I DON'T LIKE TO CUT IT CLOSE.  The fact that I cannot cross this off my list of "things to do"  highly irks me.  I mean, does the seller not understand the POWER behind crossing something off my "to do" list?  Does he not realize that I MAKE the list simply so that I can CROSS SOMETHING OFF OF IT? That there are things that I have sometimes already completed and yet I still add them to the list anyway so that I can have the power of crossing it off.  Perhaps I am the one with the problem, no?

Last night the Power of the List overwhelmed me.  I have quite the list going to get ready for next week.  Between the big shower remodel, my in laws coming in, four soccer games, the regular weekly activities and Jay's party, THERE IS A LIST.  And it is keeping me up at night.  So I went a little nuts last night and ran to Walmart at 6:00 in order to figure out what kind of cake we were doing.  Just one small errand.  I should know better. But then, nothing was fitting for the theme of his party. And the wandering around began.  An hour later, I left with crafting supplies so that I could MAKE a treasure box for the top of the cake.  And that's what I spent my night doing.  It turned out so cute...I was so pleased!  Until I decided to hot glue on that veeeeery laaaaast jewel.  You know, the one you just NEED to have?  The one that will make the whole thing peeeeeeeerfect?? The one that caused your ring finger to get STUCK to the hot glue gun, bringing about searing pain and blistering? The one that caused you to lose almost an entire night's sleep?  Yes...that one. The sacrifice was worth it though.  It is so cute and best of all, Jay loves it.  I just hope it's not so heavy that it goes crashing through the cake.  And yes, I did write "make treasure box" on my list, JUST so I could cross it off.  See the big green jewel?  That's the one over which I sacrificed my finger.

A Hot Mess...

The snot...it is everywhere.   I think you reach a whole new stage in life when you can write a whole post about snot.  But I can...just watch me.  Little trails of it all over my clothes.  Finding it on the furniture.  Wiped it off the cat.  Really, I did.  And then?  I spent fifteen minutes looking for a bandaid for a scratch on Annie's arm (because a bandaid?  It makes everything better. ) only to find that the scratch was really a trail of dried up snot.  I have reached a new low. 

And when the snot arrives, you know you will spend weeks dealing with it.  Dried up on faces in the morning, running freely throughout the day. Constant wiping, which then makes for cranky children.  "DOOOOOOON'T COME AT ME WITH THAT WET RAG WOMAN!!!" Wipe, wipe, wipe, clean face!  Crying!!  Snot bubbles form and faces are messy again.  Repeat process.  Weeks, people...weeks.  

But I will leave you with this...memories of better times, before the snot covered the toys and before the children were tired of dealing with The Woman with the Snot Rag.  

More than words...

Of course, I'm having a hard time actually WRITING this post because these children keep talking to me.  They do not want me to document the funny things they have said.  Probably because they know I will hold it over their heads as they get older.

Jay- "Mama!  You're the best basketball player in the whole family!!"  Clearly the child hasn't been out much.

Annie- In reference to a PTA luncheon we went to last week, complete with "do it yourself" Mexican food, paper plates and plastic silverware..."Mama!  I had no idea this would be so fancy!!"

Annie- while cooking dinner with me tonight..."The first night that I'm a grown up, I'm making PIZZA!"

Janie- "I DIE!  I DIE!!"

Star Wars...or Bidding Wars??

So Jay has decided that he wants the Millennium Falcon for his birthday from us.  At first, I thought, "GREAT!  An easy present!"  It was at Walmart and easily accessible, versus having to haul out to Toys R Us to get the thing.  It is HUGE, but I am willing to make concessions in order to not have to travel far.  Lazy mother.  And hey, at least I could get my hands on it and not have to worry that the stores didn't have any left. 

I headed to Walmart yesterday to get a few (er...lots of...) things.  I hightailed it over to the toy section in order to get this taken care of immediately, with no other witnesses other than Jane who poses no threat of spilling the beans.  I looked and looked.  IT WAS NOT THERE.  I asked the lady who was working in the toy section and she said they just stopped carrying them.  Of COURSE they did.  So I spent lots of money on other things instead.

When I got home, I got online thinking that maybe I could order it from Toys R Us, or at least drive out there to get it.  IT WAS NOT THERE EITHER.  Now, if you know us, you know that this is a pattern.  Usually it is some Christmas something or other that Jay has asked for that cannot possibly be found in stores and is only available through ebay and paying an extra 50 dollars, spinning around in circles and holding your tongue JUST so.  So, I started searching other places.  I found two on Amazon.  They were the only two left.  Anywhere.  In the world. AND they were WAY more expensive than the price Walmart had.  AND an extra 25 dollars for shipping.  SERIOUSLY?? So, I finally checked ebay, where lo and behold, I found one!  For less than Walmart had it! And free shipping!  Of course, first I had to win the auction. So I put my bid in and the battle began.  

12 hours later and it is mine!!  I WON!! I WON!! I WON I WON I WON!!  A major prize!  A major prize!!  I WON I WON I WON!!  ( a special prize for anyone who knows the movie).  

So, laundry has not been folded, I'm behind on dinner, Jay has soccer and I'm letting Jane play with coasters right now.  BUT I am an ebay winner and THAT makes me awesome!

A Little Glimpse into Night Life at My House...

This??? Well, this is just sick...and maybe a little sad.  Yes...there are two cats here.  They kind of blend together, no?

See this baby?  This sweet sleeping angel all passed out and cute?  Couldn't you just CHOMP on her cheeks?  And maybe kiss the folds in her neck?  Yeah, me too.  Problem being though that this sweet, sleeping little girl WAKES UP.  And then you have to do things, like keep her from crashing into various pieces of furniture, cause her much angst and grief as you remove small, shiny objects form her fat baby hands, and do the unthinkable...CHANGE HER DIAPER.  

Why...oh why!!??  Why must we torture this baby so by insisting that she be clean and dry.  Horrible parents, we are.  Probably you should report us to the authorities.  Probably our neighbors would LIKE THAT VERY MUCH because there is obviously some kind of torture going on at our house during various times of the day, judging from the screaming by the smallest member of our household.  Sigh. 

So, I turn into a crocodile wrestler several times a day.  That's the only thing I can equate it to.  I mean really though, can you think of a better analogy?  As I remove the old diaper, Jane immediately goes into what can only be classified as The Death Roll.  Legs out straight (as I forcibly hold them down) and contorts her body so that her upper half is stomach down on the bed, and her lower half gives the illusion that a new diaper MIGHT be put in place if only you had two more hands with which to open it, fasten it AND hold her legs in place at the same time.  So I let go, she rolls all the way over, I roll her back and we repeat this process until I am sweaty and she is screaming.  Oh...only it's not just screaming...hence that whole neighbors reporting us thing.  No, no...screaming would be welcome.  Instead, Jane is learning to babble.  And her favorite vowel/consonant combo is,  "A Da!" Seems harmless right?  Well, if you crank up the volume to Ear Shattering, and then add an edge of desperation to it, it sounds more like, "I DIE!!! I DIE!!! I DIE!!!"  I expect the police any minute here...

And honestly, I think what she's really saying is, "I'm dying and I'm taking you with me Diaper Welding Woman!!"