Me Too

Do you guys know that Meghan Trainor song, Me Too?  It’s my jam.  Love her songs.  So catchy. Every time it comes on the radio we have to immediately crank it up so I can tap my steering wheel in perfect drumbeat fashion.  I have the head bop/shoulder shimmy down perfectly.  I’ve got the rhythm.  I’ve got the moves.  I’m so white. 

I get more of a workout in listening to this song than I do in my yoga classes. 

If I could carry a tune even a little bit or had video editing capabilities I would make one of those awesome YouTube parody videos and become an Internet sensation.  But being as that I have neither of those things, I will settle for blogging. 

So every time I hear this song, I add all of my own sarcastic comments throughout.  Shocking, I know.  If you don't know it, listen to it here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RaveinO4_vs

Meghan Trainor

Me too

Who’s that sexy thing I see over there?  (That’s Ryan Lochte on my TV.)

That’s me, standing in the mirror  (Mirror’s make me want to gag myself….literally)

What’s that icy thing hanging ‘round my neck?  (Probably a booger from William)

That’s gold, show me some respect, Oh Ah (No, it’s an $8 necklace from Charming Charlies)

I thank God everyday  (Indeed I do)

That I woke up feeling this way  (No, I feel this way after millions of hours and years of gymnastics)

And I can’t stop loving myself  (It’s real easy)

And I don’t need nobody else (except for my chiropractor)

If I was you, I’d want to be me too  (Who wouldn’t want to be this?)

I’d want to be me too  (Well, it’s not ALL that great)

I’d want to be me too  (yeah, I’m done being me.  Who else can I be?)

If I was you, I’d want to be me too  (ok, I have a lot to be thankful for)

I’d want to be me too  (I’m happy to be me)

I’d want to be me too  (this song is getting boring, good thing it has a good beat)

 

I walk in like a dime piece  (don’t even know what that is.  So old.  Just so old)

I go straight to VIP (nope, I’m poor.  I work in non-profit child welfare)

I never pay for my drinks  (My husband does.  Out of our joint account)

My entourage behind me.  (and in front of me, and running circles around me)

My life’s a movie, Tom Cruise (I hate that prick)

So bless me, baby Ah-Choo (stupid line in a song)

And even if they try to they can’t do it like I do (yeah, nobody has it going on quite like we do)

 

I thank God everyday (yes)

That I woke up feeling this way (with a slight hangover from a margarita.  Damn, I’m old and a lightweight)

And I can’t stop loving myself  (still working on loving myself)

And I don’t need nobody else (except the 14 people it takes to keep my carpools going to get my kids to all of the zillions of activities I insist on having them in)

If I was you, I’d want to be me too  (depending on the day)

I’d want to be me too  (I’ve got the good life going on)

I’d want to be me too  (yeah, it IS good to be me)

If I was you, I’d want to be me too  (except for those days when it’s not good to be me)

I’d want to be me too  (like last week when I totally lost my shit on the kids)

I’d want to be me too  (but I’ve got some good stuff going on….stayin’ positive!)

 

Turn the bass up.  (I don’t know where it is in my minivan)

 

Let’s Go (I’m halfway there already)

 

I thank God everyday (yup, still do)

That I woke up feeling this way (thankful no one had a nightmare or peed the bed)

And I can’t stop loving myself (stiiiiillllll workin’ on it)

And I don’t need nobody else (I do like peace and quiet)

If I was you, I’d want to be me too (Yeah, I like being me)

I’d want to be me too  (but you should just be yourself)

I’d want to be me too (seriously, quit the single white female thing)

The Instigator

Anyone that has ever taken their children, or anyone children, to church knows the struggle.  Sadly, some weeks it can be a deterrent to even attending Mass.  Other weeks it is so clear that we all  need a little Jesus that nothing could keep us away.  Still other weeks, it is something we are squeezing into our busy life.  

We made it today.  Praise Jesus.  

William was William.  He wiggles.  He talks.  He kicks his brothers.  He tries, or succeeds, in ripping pages in the hymnal. He "reads" the book (usually upside down).  He stacks the books.  He lines them up.  He pretends they are cars and makes motor sounds as he moves them along the pew.  He sings when we are praying.  He plays with my necklace.  He stands.  He sits.  He lays down. He sucks his thumb.  He's basically every 3 year old at church or at least the churches I have been in.  

Today his Instigator came with us.  The Instigator is not a cuddly stuffed animal with a funny nickname.  Nor is it one of his brothers.  I think you know who it is.  It's his dad.  Yup, the Instigator was present today.  When the Instigator in in attendance I usually try to keep William with me.  We are all better off for it.  However after several minutes of squirming and previously identified church behaviors, Instigator decides to take over for a while.  Instigator isn't much of a whisperer.  He's more of a talk in a low man voice kind of guy.  So he "whispers" into Will's ear "You have ants in your pants."  To which William loudly says "I have ANTS IN MY PANTS?"  Followed by "I have ants in my bottom" several times throughout Mass.

So I separated Will and Instigator for a while.  Before long they were back together wherein Instigator looks over at me and non-whispers "Am I in trouble?"  No.  No 37 year old man, you are not in trouble because I am not your mother.  But for the love of all that is good and Holy, please leave that kid alone during church.  He gets into enough trouble on his own or with his brothers who poke at him the minute I get him sitting quietly for any period of time.  Of course, that is only when they can distract themselves from playing with their Fitbits and trying to scam their step counter by slyly swinging their arms back and forth as if they are walking.  

The kids measure the time in church by the songs.  "How many songs left" starts about halfway through church.  So we all made it to the last song without any additional notable events.  Time for donuts.  Everybody happily dodges their way through the crowds on the way to donuts until the Instigator denies them.  WHAT??  No donuts?  What do you mean we don't have time for donuts?  Donuts are the bribe that gets everyone ready on Sunday mornings.  They are the finish line.  The light at the end of the tunnel.  They are the end of our weekly faith journey.  They are the reward for staying sane (me).  They are the casual threat during church "Be good, or you aren't getting a donut."  So there we went.  Heads hung low, shoulders slumped, past the stairs that lead to the almighty Sunday morning sugar high.  So long sticky fingers.  So long spilled orange Kool-Aid that stains their upper lips.  We hope to see you next week.  

Addendum:

On the way home from dinner tonight we passed the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception and Instigator asked if the dome was really gold.  He said when he was young he always dreamt of flying a helicopter and stealing the dome.  It's all starting to make sense now. 

Tooth Fairy

Parenting, schmarenting.  I have my good days and I have my why-in-the-world-did-anyone-think-it-was-a-good-idea-for-me-to-be-in-charge-of-small-people days. 

I recently had one of the latter.  It involves the stupid tooth fairy. I hate that bitch.  She always comes at the most inconvenient time.  A tiny flying Tinkerbelle sort of thing that comes into a child's room at night and crawls under his pillow to steal his tooth?  CREEEEEPY!  Why?   My husband tries to tell the kids that the TF actually eats their teeth. I nearly threw up in my mouth even thinking about it.

As usual with anything that even remotely relates to parenting, I was completely unprepared.  Justin's tooth had been "super loose" for weeks.  I had stopped paying attention to anything having to do with teeth.  Except for brushing of course.  I make sure they brush their teeth.  Every-ish day. 

Anyway, his tooth falls out and we set it on the kitchen counter where all bloody former body parts belong and then we forget about it for two days.  It just sits there with all of the other crap including unpaid bills, random change, the still uncompleted school residency form for the upcoming school year, a Kohl's coupon, an empty fruit snack bag, and items that William has set aside for his "collection". 

Then comes the night that he actually remembers to stick it under his pillow for weirdo fairy witch to come take it and leave money.  Oh, MONEY???  Nope, don't have any of that.  Of course Jeremy the cash cow is at the firehouse and I don't have a single bill on me other than the unpaid ones on the counter. 

But guess who does have money?

This guy!

 

 

Right here! 

Yup, I stole from my 3 year old's piggy bank.  Parenting win! 

And have I paid those $3 back to Will's piggy bank?  Oh no I have not.  Why?  Because I am generally unethical and Will is clueless and 3 years old and he doesn't know any different and I'm really busy with a lot of other things that are more important than finding three dollar bills to stuff back in a glass pig. 

Weekend Lessons

I've learned a few things this weekend.  Or maybe a more accurate statement is that I remembered a few things this weekend.   


#1.  Shoe shopping with three boys is miserable.  I gave them the standard lecture before entering the store.  NO tag.  NO hide and seek.  NO nuthin’.  Just try on shoes and get out.  I made an initial tactical error in allowing William to walk instead of using a cart with a stroller on the front.  That lasted about 20 second.  I turned around to get a cart/stroller while Leo picks William up like a sack of potatoes and carries/drags him over to me.  We got a stroller and he proceeded to drag his feet on the floor in front of it to continually slow our minimal progress. We finally made it to the shoe department.  Our problem is either that they hate all of the choices or they just want the first one they see.  I’m walking back and forth between Will climbing out of the cart (with the broken buckle) and the boys trying on shoes.  Leo insisted on a pair of orange and blue shoes.  Ugh, Auburn colors.  I was not impressed.  He did it just to tick me off.  He hates Auburn.  William is standing in the stroller with one foot perched on a rack of shoes.  I just left him there.  He’ll figure it out.  Justin was getting hungry so he just grabbed the first red pair he could find.  Justin puts his shoes on and immediately says “they slide off my feet a little bit.”  We have a lengthy debate on buying shoes that he very clearly just said do not fit but he insists on getting because they don’t have another size and he is too hungry to try on more shoes.  I give in.  I give Leo one more chance to pick something other than Auburn shoes, but I’ve lost that battle too.  Then we get out to the car and everyone immediately puts on their new shoes.  The car was still in park when Leo says that they hurt his feet.  We.  Just.  Bought.  Them.  I am reminded that shoe shopping with three boys is miserable. 


#2.  Flexibility was never my strength.  My body is old and my flexibility is at an all time low.  I’ve taken up yoga/pilates again.  It is clear to me now that I always relied on sheer talent, strength, and determination to have whatever minimal success I did have in my gymnastics career.  Not flexibility.  No, no, no.  Not flexibility.    


#3.  My children have potty mouths.  Seriously.  It’s bad.  It’s embarrassing.  I realize this is and will continue to be a part of raising our boys.  But when one is telling a kid we just met that he “sucks balls” followed by “not the private part balls, but like a baseball” and the other one is telling peers that spelling S-H-I-T is just as bad as saying it, I would like to crawl into a hole (and scream cuss words). 


#4.  I am much better at mini-golf than everyone else in my family.  I kicked their butts today. 


#5.  Toilet bowl cleaner comes out of quilts.  A pale yellow quilt, at that.  In a moment of stupidity I left it sitting on my bed while I screamed at the top of my lungs at my children so they would stop wrestling, crying, punching, and dragging each other around the living room.  Then I got completely distracted with my discipline efforts and brought them all into the bedroom for a good ol’ fashioned lecture.  Unfortunately I forgot about the toilet bowl cleaner I had set on the end of the bed.  It had fallen over and leaked out through the quilt, sheets, and mattress cover.  Super.  Perfect way to end a long weekend. 

Movement Therapy

It’s been a rough few months for me.  After our son Zachary died this year I spent a great deal of time focusing on the joys that he brought to our life.  I had to or else it would be too easy to crawl into a ball and hide from the world.  And cry.  Lots and lots of crying. Work in particular became tough just because it’s a place where I need to keep it under control and be professional.  Actually that’s not even true.  I can keep it relatively under control but professionalism isn’t really my thing.  Sarcasm is.  And humor.  But I found myself having quite a few rough days at work in the last several weeks.  We had expected Zachary to arrive by Thanksgiving at the latest so getting over that hurdle was a major step in my grief.  On Thanksgiving weekend I was really dreading going back to work and carrying on a normal life. That is, until I had the BEST idea. 

It’s cartwheels.  Yup, cartwheels.  There is no way possible you can be sad while doing cartwheels.  So I’ve been doing them.  A lot.  At work.  Every day.  Anytime there is no one around, I do a cartwheel.  Mostly in our break room area.  Or if I think I don’t have time or the appropriate attire for a cartwheel I do full turns or split leaps.  Last week I did several fouette turns in a row because I couldn't hear anyone coming and then I got a bit dizzy and had to walk back to my office while shaking it off a bit.  Yup, I’ve just been cartwheeling and twirling and leaping all over our office and no one knows it (I think).  As of yet I don’t think I’ve been caught.  I do them while I’m making copies or when I check my mail.  Sometimes I just go to the break room to see if no one is around so I can get a quick cartwheel or leap in.  It’s just really hard to be sad and distracted after being upside down. 

Score one for movement therapy!  It’s so healing. 

Humiliatoin Day

There are two things you should know before you read this. 

#1: The weekly school email last week shared information that the school needs cardboard donations for the Global Cardboard Challenge.
#2: Now that he is in 3rd grade, Justin has a planner at school and every day he has to write down what he does throughout the day and reminders that he will need throughout the week. 

So, that's where tonight's story begins.  Actually the story begins earlier this morning when Jeremy got home from 72 hours straight at the firehouse to find a huge unkempt pile of cardboard food boxes in the kitchen.  I asked him to break them down and put them in a plastic sack for the boys to take to school.  Go me!!  Contributed to a school project.  My kids must really idolize me.  Justin will be a hero today for bringing a variety of cardboard boxes of processed foods. 

OR, maybe not.  Tonight we were "doing backpacks."  It's our nightly routine of people pulling various papers out of their backpacks and throwing them out me at astounding rates as I try to thumb through them all and see what needs to be kept, read, applauded, corrected, returned, trashed, or in tonight's case blogged. 

I have to sign Justin's planner every night.  I open it up to find this:

That's right.  Today was Humiliation Day. Or rather Humiliatoin Day.  Who knew?  It begs the obvious question.  So, ummm J, what's up with Humiliation Day?  His response was well, humiliating. 

"Oh yeah, that.  Well Max and I decided today was humiliation day because no one knew why I brought that bag of trash to school.  Mrs. Nelson said 'Uhhhhh, I don't think we need it but I guess I can check on it.'.  They just need box tops."  We asked him what she did with it and he said it was still sitting there at the end of the day. 

My kid was so humiliated that he named a day for it.  Parenting.  Fail.  Jeremy and I have not laughed this hard in a very, very long time. 

Note: I double checked the school email and they do in fact want cardboard for the schools by mid-October.  I was just ahead of the game.  Boom! 

This is Sew Jeremy

I'm a procrastinator.  There, I said it.  It took me a while to realize it.  Even longer to say it.  Even longer to blog about it.  

I let a whole year go by without sewing any new patches on Justin's Cub Scout uniform.  Now Leo's a Cub Scout therefore doubling my opportunity to be unprepared.  I had to suck it up and get both of their uniforms up to date.  I arranged for my seamstress (yes, I have a seamstress "on staff") to get all of the various little patches in their correct locations. 

Enter: Jeremy.  Ten minutes before the first Pack meeting of the year Jeremy said some very unexpected words.

"Do we have a needle?  I think I can sew." 

WTF???

Yes we have a needle and a tiny sewing kit that I'm pretty sure I got about 10 years ago in some sort of goodie bag at a social work conference.  I've used it approximately three times.  Ok, twice.  Ok, I don't remember if I've ever used it except the few times that I got the miniature scissors out to open the blueberry muffin dry mix bag for breakfast.  Or cookie dough.  I probably used it to open a bag of chocolate chips.  It sure was hell wasn't for sewing. 

Anywho, in his typical "let's not spend any money" mantra, Jeremy wants to sew all of the patches on himself.  In my typical "can't we just pay someone to do this" way of living, I insist on using the handy-dandy seamstress (shout out to Heather!). 

So I directed him to the sewing kit.  If it can even be called a sewing kit.  It's like three of the tiniest spools of thread you have ever seen, one needle, and the aforementioned scissors designed for use on the set of The Littles. 

Sooooooo, he sews.  Here he is making his first attempt at threading a needle.  Followed by "son of a....."

"I had it until I heard the click (of the camera)"

 

Followed by "UGH!!!  I almost had it!" and "We are down to our last needle."  As if I need to run out and buy some more to last us the next ten years of non-sewing. 

 

 

"Yeah, I can do this.  Do you have a thimble?"

"Oh FUCK! I just got my finger!"

 

 

"Ok this is where I get confused" (as he tries to knot it).

Here he is pictured cutting the thread with his teeth as I'm sure his fingers won't fit in the teeny tiny scissors. 

 

 

SWEET SUCCESS!  What a stud!

 

 

How ya like me now?

 

 



JOY

Against all odds, there is so much joy in our life right now.  At the very end of Zachary's burial service when only Jeremy and I were left to linger for just a few moments longer than everyone else, our priest said something that has been nearly life changing.  He told us that Zachary brought JOY even in all of our sorrow.  I believed him and agreed immediately, even as I stood looking at Zachary's tiny casket.  Faith brings joy and our faith is strong.  Our joy is overwhelming. 

So in this time of extreme difficulty, we are finding joy.  I find myself looking for it every day and frequently it finds me.  God is putting joy in my life and putting it right in front of my face.  Here are some examples:

• Despite our extreme sadness the moment Zachary was born we also felt joy.  Joy in meeting our son and in finding out that (shocker) we had another boy!  Joy in seeing his round little O'Brien face just as we had 3 times before.  Joy in giving him a name that honored my grandpa and knowing that now all 4 of our grandpa's names are represented in our boys names.  Joy in having him immediately baptized and knowing that his sweet soul is safe and loved in heaven. Joy even in heartbreaking sadness. 
• My marriage to Jeremy is stronger than ever.  I love him more than the day we were married and I know he feels the same.  We say it to each other.  Joy.  We rocked this tragedy with a togetherness we had never experienced.  We were on the same wavelength at every single step.  That's not true for other challenges we have come across, but it was true for this.  True love.  Joy. 
• I smile every single time I leave my house because I have a beautiful tree (soon to be two) in the yard with a guardian angel sitting beneath it.  Joy. 
• We have seen and heard from friends that we haven't seen in a while.  And it's been wonderful for all of us.  Joy. 
• We are raising an amazing amount of money through donations to Synergy Services for children who either have no home or their home is unsafe or so chaotic that a shelter with caregivers that are strangers to them is a better choice.  Those babies will be rocked in chairs, sleep in beds, and cared for between the walls that are paid for by our family and friends simply because sweet Zachary will never get that opportunity.  Joy for those kids.  They will feel comfort, love, and security that they would not otherwise have without our help.  I have rocked all of my babies and I was able to rock Zachary.  Rocking babies tugs at my heart and these babies will be rocked with love.  Joy. 
• Our kids are learning grief at their own pace.  They are gaining an understanding on what it is to lose someone, even someone they did not know, and still be able to live a life full of joy.  They are learning that its ok for adults to cry and cry hard.  Ugly cry with hacking sobs of grief and there have been many.  They are learning, Leo in particular, that it's also ok not to cry if that's not what your heart feels in the moment.  It's ok to be ok.  It's so ok to feel joy. 

Tonight my joy came from William.  At the burial service we had each of the boys place a Hot Wheel with the casket.  The nursery has always had a Hot Wheels theme and Zachary missed out on all of the Hot Wheel fun.  In typical 2 year old fashion, Will refused to leave his.  He clung to it and did the age old "MIIIINE!" so we let him keep it.  It's a Hot Wheel fire truck and it's been sitting in the car for the last few weeks.  A few days ago he randomly brought it inside and I've told him several times that it's Zachary's fire truck and that he is allowed to play with it.  Will has been clueless to what has happened and only recently realized I'm not pregnant.  Tonight, to my great joy, he put the two things together.  He asked about the baby in my tummy and when I reminded him that the baby is no longer there and the baby's name was Zachary, his eyes lit up.  He ran upstairs to get the fire truck and has held on to it all night.  He is "sleeping" with it now (using the word sleeping loosely because.....he's not!).  He's been walking around saying "Zacccree fire truck" and maybe, just maybe, he has created a memory of his brother that will stick with him.  Joy.  And peace. 

My friend Rachel sent this devotional to me tonight just as I was starting to write this blog.  Joy.  Thank you Jesus for all of the JOY in my life. 
"I continually call you to closeness with Me.  I know the depth and breadth of your need for Me.  I can read the emptiness of your thoughts when they wander away from Me.  I offer rest for your soul, as well as refreshment for your mind and body.  As you increasingly find fulfillment in Me, other pleasures become less important.  Knowing Me intimately is like having a private wellspring of Joy within you.  This spring flows freely from My throne of grace, so your Joy is independent of circumstances.  Waiting in My presence keeps you connected to Me, aware of all that I offer you.  If you feel any deficiency, you need to refocus your attention on Me.  This is how you trust Me in the moments of your life."

Whew!

First of all a super odd thing:  the last blog I posted was exactly a year ago today.  I obviously don't blog much anymore but tonight was blog-worthy and so I'm drawn back to it.  I miss it so much.  I hope to make more time for it again soon.

Our sweet and tiny baby boy, Zachary John, was born two weeks ago.  He was immediately received into Jesus' arms.  It's been a long two weeks.  Sometimes it doesn’t seem real.  Our priest told us at the burial that Zachary brought joy even through our sorrow and it is so true.  We have received amazing support from family and friends.  Two groups in particular have given us very special gifts.  Our daycare family, past and present, have bought us a tree for our yard in memory of Zachary.  We are so excited.  It’s the perfect gift.  Jeremy has always wanted a tree in our side yard and this is the perfect way to honor our baby.  Then today we got a knock on the door.  Another tree, this time from my amazing college buddies.  So now we have two trees, which has always been Jeremy’s plan for the side yard.  Joy in our sorrow. 

My heart aches and my tears overflow as we realize that Zachary will always have a place in the yard where the boys mow with their dad all summer and sled down the hill in the winter.  But that’s not tonight's only story.  The rest of the story is that Jeremy and I put the boys to bed tonight and invited our friends, Ellan and Robert, over to help us figure out where to plant the trees.  Ellan is our daycare provider and a landscaper extraordinaire.  So we chatted inside for a while about which trees we were getting and how far apart to place them.  Then we went outside to place some stakes in the ground to prepare for planting.  That led to chatting and a few tears as we talked about sweet Zachary. 

Then the cops drove by.  Not super common, but ok.  Then they turned around and came back.  And slowed down.  And stopped.  So I walked up the hill to the driveway to see what the officer needed. She said “do you have three small boys?”  My heart stopped.  I swear it did.  I could not handle any more bad news. I couldn’t process why she was asking until I looked back at the house and saw Justin standing at the window on the phone (with 911 dispatch).  The officer told me that they didn’t know where we were and they got scared so they called the police.  I guess we were outside longer than we realized and they got out of bed and couldn’t find us. I yelled for Jeremy to go get them inside.  He says their faces were indescribable when he walked up. 

They came rushing down the driveway where I was still leaning up against the police car trying to gain composure that nothing was wrong with them.  Leo gave me the BIGGEST hug and Justin’s face was ashen.  Will was just chilling on the driveway.  So the story goes that Will wanted out of his room and was banging on his door for us.  The big boys couldn’t figure out why he was being so loud so they came downstairs and realized we weren’t in the house.  They looked outside and could not see us (because we were in the side yard).  Leo said he wanted to go outside and check but Justin wouldn’t let him in case there was something dangerous outside.  So Justin called 911.  LOVE THAT KID!  He wasn’t sure of our address but he knew our street name and the elementary school down the block from us so he was able to lead law enforcement close to us.  Dispatch told him to turn on the TV and just relax because police were on their way to help.  Justin demonstrated how his hands and whole body were shaking as he made the phone call.  It makes my heart hurt and melt to know how scared he was but how he stepped up and took care of his family.  They were so nervous.  Leo talked a mile a minute when we got inside (typical anyway) about how he kept thinking “I hope they didn’t take their phone with them” and how relieved he was when they found my phone.  They did it all exactly right.  They made safe choices.  Whew.  My kids are safe.  Three are safely in their beds and one is safely on Jesus’ lap being rocked to sleep. 

A Mom Named Gwen

Tonight I asked Justin to tell me a story to distract me from itching my bug bites.  As he began telling stories he has the idea that they were going to be a book series.  He named it “The Mom Named Gwen” however he says that they are not about me.  I’m not convinced.  (Then I just read this back to him and he laughed hard and said that it is actually about me.  It is mostly about this family except for the dad part because he is a nice dad and he loves him for it.)

Book 1

Once there was a mom named Gwen.  And she was so nice to her boys that she even got their favorite donuts for breakfast even though they were having a really hard time.  Plus she was also very kind to share money to the poor.  But one day she was mean to her boys.  She was very upset and disappointed.  Then she apologized and even let the boys sleep in her bed.  The End.

Book 2

Once there was a mom named Gwen.  One day the boys threatened their mom.  And then the mom cried and cried while the boys just cleaned up the whole house.  The mom didn’t even look.  Then they said they were sorry and the mom said that is not enough.  She looked at the whole house and there wasn’t even a crumb in site.  She loved the boys and she even scratched their back and let them lay in her bed.  The End.

In reviewing his work, Justin believes that Book 2 is “even more impressive” than Book 1.

Book 3

The Grumpy Dad

Once there was a grumpy dad named John.  He was very mean to his kids.  One day on a sunny morning the dad thought about the way he has been to his children all of his life.  Then one day his heart grew and grew and he was very nice to his children for the rest of his life.  Even though he was still a little grumpy to his kids he always loved him at the bottom of his heart.  And the kids all grew up to be as nice as that dad.  The End. 

A Day In The Life of Will

He's a busy little boy!!!

Just some Saturday morning cleaning

Swingin'



 

Livin' on the edge

 

 

AIRPLANE!!

Cheese!

Will taking pictures of his brothers while they sit in timeout, holding hands until they can say something nice to each other.

Up in their business.  Clearly my technique for time out works!

CHEESE

Kissing his reflection in the dishwasher

 

 

Lunch

 

Sad little boy at naptime

So instead he will play for a bit 

Lovin' his new big boy bed

playing with Justin

Little boy in a big bed

Sweet success

Chillin' with his bros

 it's back to hat time

Supporting Justin as he buried Owen, the beloved turtle

 

French fries for dinner on a Christmas plate

Wearing Justin's shoes

Helping Mommy with laundry in the basement

So sad that his brothers don't want to play with him

Bathtime!

Nakie baby on the run!!

Too lazy to hold the phone to talk

More hats

Probably my favorite picture of the day.

Bedtime stories.  Roll Tide and goodnight!

 

Parenting Fail

I didn't have a bad day.  I just had a weird day.  One of those days where things don't go quite as planned.  I had planned to spend the whole morning turning in some data requirements only to realize that I was a month early.  Better than being a month late and allowed me time to start other things on my long to do list.  Then I had lunch with a good friend and hurried off to my next meeting.  Well, the next meeting was a no-show.  Not only a no show but blamed me for a miscommunication on where we would meet and then refused to reschedule for her internship interview!!!  Guess she can go do her internship somewhere else.  Kinda dodged a bullet there I think.  Once again, not in the plans but allowed for more time on the ol' to-do list.  Next on the schedule was a conference call.  Oops, it was for 3pm Eastern, not Central time so I missed it.  Dang it.  Really needed that info.  Fortunately the people were kind enough to immediately send me the recorded version so I can watch it soon.  I finished my work day cooking with/for a bunch of teenagers at work.  At least that part went off without incident!

But then it was home to the kiddos.  I attempted parenting success by surprising them with a trip to McDonald's PlayLand.  They always beg me and I hate going there.  Fed the big boys dinner and headed home.  Everyone got their bath/shower and jammies on and we were just winding down for the night.

OOOPS!!!  I forgot to feed Will!  I seriously forgot to feed my own child!  Total parenting fail!!! What is wrong with me?!?!?!  I don't feed him McDonald's at his age and I just plain forgot to do anything related to dinner when I got home.  And sweet little Will is so used to just going with the flow that he never even made a peep.  Never asked for food or drink.  He did have a few apples at McDonald's, but still!!  It is 7:10 pm and I totally forgot to feed the little guy. 

So I start berating myself and head to the kitchen telling myself what a horrible mother I am.  I think I said something like "UGH!  I am the worst mother EVER!!!". To which sweet little Justin responded "MOM, you are a great mom.  You were just busy yelling at us."

Oh well don't I just feel a whole lot better.   

Easter, again

Oh Easter.  Why do you do this to me?  Some of you may recall the blog from Easter 2011.  http://sothisismy30s.blogspot.com/2011_04_01_archive.html 

This isn't that bad, but it's so typical for me.  Nothing ever quite goes right.  I am a horrible planner and a huge procrastinator and maybe just maybe (fingers crossed) many other moms are just like me so I won't feel so crappy about myself! 

I don't go all out for any of the holidays.  I don't do it up crazy and expensive.  I'm a simple gal.  Not a lot of fanfare.  I really hope my kids won't be sitting around as adults some day talking about how lame their mother was for every holiday.  Are my insecurities showing too much tonight?  They have been flaring up quite a lot today.  Not my best parenting day or really my best day in general, but that's for another blog on another day.  Actually that's probably a lie as I am not a woe is me kind of writer.  I'm a here's how my woe's are hilarious and can entertain everyone kind of gal.  It's an excellent defense mechanism. 

Tonight is about Easter prep.  My dear, smart, hard-working husband did the Easter basket shopping.  I gave him the list and he got everything on the list for the Easter baskets.  Tonight, while he is hard at work getting thrown up on by a woman who ate strawberry cake, I am here making Easter baskets. 

And now I'm drinking wine.  And eating a brownie.  Because I didn't write on the list for my dear husband to buy candy to actually fill the plastic Easter eggs.  Yup.  It's 10:30 pm and I am home by myself with three sleeping children (thank you Jesus) and the only candy that he bought are dum-dum suckers and fruit snacks.  Neither of which will actually fit in an egg, but do fit nicely in the baskets themselves.  What I wrote on the list was for him to purchase items for the Easter BASKETS.  And he did. 

But I'm a resourceful woman.  I went through all of the cabinets.  Don't think I didn't consider putting some pretzels and grapes in those plastic eggs.  Fortunately I came across this fabulous half-full bag of Christmas candy that was being utilized for the Advent Calendar treats!  YES!!!!  No one cares that the candy is all in red and green wrappers with the occasional holly wreath.  My kids aren't that smart. 

Just in case it hasn't sunk in for you, I just filled my kids Easter eggs with Christmas candy.    I'm keeping it very Catholic.  Christmas.  Easter.  Wine.  Guilt. 

Sunday Funday

I am pleased to say that when this morning started out as one of "those mornings" and I started jotting down notes and keeping my phone handy for pics for what I knew would be a blog-worthy day, I did not expect things to really calm down by lunch time.  So instead of a days worth of craziness, I only ended up with a morning.  Thankfully!

My overwhelming thought this morning was "why do I ever try to accomplish anything when I am here with all 3 kids."  I was in such a productive mood and had grand plans for completing many tasks on the to do list, yet every time I turned my back for a few seconds something went awry. 

If you don't live around me, know that today we are in ridiculously cold temps and more snow.  I had no intentions of going anywhere but being stuck here with the 3 stooges wasn't going so well either. 

First off, Will is a first class climber.  He is on every possible piece of furniture or other climbable item instead of playing with the hundreds of dollars of toys that are strewn about the living room.  That doesn't stop him from destroying the living room by dragging said toys all over the floor, but as soon as he is done doing that he finds something to climb on.  The unfortunate part of his little plan at this stage is that he doesn't know how to get down from anywhere yet.  Other than a face plant. 

First place I found him today:

I'm just fortunate he wasn't already up on the table.  He surely can't get hurt too bad falling out of a chair, but off the kitchen table is a different story (is what I tell myself). 

One of my goals today was to get all of Will's clothes changed out.  He is growing out of most of his clothes so I had to bring up the next bins, go through all of his drawers, keep the things that fit, pack up the things that don't fit, wash all of the clothes, etc, etc.  You guys know the drill.  And I knew I needed to keep the little bugger with me since he clearly can't be trusted out of my site.  (foreshadowing here).  So I had him locked in his bedroom with me to go through clothes.  First thing he does is climb up on the wooden rocking chair we have in his room and promptly fall off face first and smash his face into the floor. 

I was getting nothing accomplished.  Justin offered to watch him for a few minutes in his room.  (bad idea).  I was working as quickly as I could to put clothes away when I hear Justin say "Leo, you were supposed to be watching him!"  And down they come.  At first I thought Will's mouth was bleeding from his face plant off the rocking chair.  Nope.  Worse.  He ate a purple crayon.  A quick call to Poison Control and all was well.  For about 5 minutes. 

Then I tried to go pee all by myself. I know it's a cliché but I really was trying to just sneak in a quick bathroom break. See, I really did have lofty goals for myself today!  Just as I was wrapping it up, the oldest two boys come flying into my room.  Justin is crying and before Leo can say anything he apologizes to me with "sorry I saw your buns mom.  I hit Justin."  But he didn't just hit Justin.  He threw a metal saucepan lid at Justin and hit his ear!!  So I go through my whole schpeel of telling them why they can't hit, why they need to calm down, why they need to play nice, etc, etc.  I order them to the steps (their time out location) to talk nicely to each other.  However on our way to the steps we all three stop cold when we realize that William is doing this at the bottom of the steps:

He is standing on a plastic tub that I had just filled of clothes that don't fit him. When we first walked down he was trying to climb over the back of the couch.  Lord help me! 

But the boys still had to finish their time out.  Our general rule is that they have to sit there and talk nicely to each other.  Here's a little snippet of that fun.  They are so used to this drill that they almost always just go there automatically.  It's adorable!

 I was losing steam.  I needed a break.  I plopped myself on the couch and within moments I heard a big crash in the dining room.  And then not a single sound.  I thought for sure Will had knocked himself unconscious this time.  I knew all of the chairs were pushed in after the first fiasco this morning.  Found this:

We finally made it to lunchtime.  I was defrosting some hamburger when Leo came in to find out what was for lunch.  I warned him that it wasn't going to be his beloved PB&J.  this was his reaction.

In case you can't understand it, Leo says "YOU ALWAYS MAKE US STUFF THAT WE NEVER LIIIIIKE!"  And of course, Justin is just trying to get in on the fun and amp up Leo's response to lunch.  This video pretty much sums up my morning. 

Everyone was amazingly well behaved after lunch and played quietly while I tried to lose myself in Netflix during Will's nap (success!) He woke up in a great mood!

I thought we were really going to get away with no additional trouble the rest of the night until just before putting Will to bed while I was filling his humidifier, I caught him drinking out of the dogs bowl.  That's a new one for us.  Sigh.