Crazy Days of Summer

Wow. What happened to the past few days? July is over after a terrific whirlwind of insanity. Tomorrow is already Wednesday and the first day of August. That means preparations for my sweet baby doll's first birthday, school supplies and clothes for the First Grader and the Pre-K-er. and scheduling for all things parental and holiday planning as well. I am so ready. I know there is quite a fan following for the summer season, but I seriously loathe summer. Oh there are aspects of it that I love: the free time with kids, the cold treats, lolling about outside when the heat isn't too unbearable, but it's the heat and the looooong days that I really just can't come to appreciate. Well, the long days became an issue when I had children who wouldn't go to bed because the sun was still up at their bedtime- having to explain to children who don't possess the logic capabilities that we go by the CLOCK and not the SUN just doesn't work out very well. The heat has never been a friend of mine and I've said it a million times and I will forever say it: In winter, you can always keep putting MORE on and make cocoa or coffee and eventually you WILL warm up, in the summer, there is only so much you can take off and the ice cream eventually melts leaving you STILL HOT. Today's weather was beautiful and it had me getting so excited about all the things to come and all the plans I have and all the things that I want to do and have to get done before the end of the month!

I am just so excited. I LOVE the end of summer. I LOVE school shopping! And now I have TWO school age kids for which to school shop! I've got lists already going... I've got it BAD! *dances a jig* Oh yes, when that first leaf turns on the tree out front, I will be the Crazy Lady of the neighborhood screaming and dancing about in the street from sheer and utter delight at the wonderfulness that is to come!

But for now, I am delighted that the weather has cooled down to much kinder temperatures and that we have gotten to enjoy some fun outdoor activities and we get to fit in a few more along with all the fall preparations that shall now be under way!

It's going to be one fantastic month!

Little Dirty Birdie Feet

No one is perfect. I'm (obviously) the first one to admit my faults. We all have them. It's what makes us human, our mistakes, our weird idiosyncratic behaviors. This is what is so easy to love about kids, too: their willingness to admit their mistakes, their readiness to say, "I dunno..." and their penchant to "say the darnedest things". We were at lunch today at the dining room table and I kept getting a whiff of something. We were having turkey and roast beef sandwiches and as I was eating one myself, I knew it wasn't because the lunch meat that was rotten. I found myself looking down at the floor thinking their was some old piece of steamed broccoli that had rotted under the table. Oh yes, we've lived here two months and I have yet to steam a head of broccoli, let alone attempt to serve it to my children as such and not hidden under a blanket of dressing or cheese. Come on! I'm flawed, yes, but I'm no amateur with these kids! That definitely could not be it. It passed. I ate on. It came again. "What IS that smell?!" My husband responds (God bless him), "What smell?" "Something STINKS! How can you not smell it?!" My dear sweet daughter pipes in, "That's me!" "What is you?" "I've been farting and my feet smell really bad." She then points out that her brother's feet stink, too! And their shoes do, too! Well, that explains it. I go on to say that I am going to throw out the shoes because I cannot believe they smell so bad and my insightful husband points out, "Dont't throw them out before you buy new ones or you aren't going to be able to leave the house with two barefoot children..." Good point! I'm relieved that fall is coming soon and now, suddenly folding a bazillion clean socks doesn't seem so bad in comparison to dealing with stinky shoes. At least she was honest... That's all for now...

Summer Lovin' and Cookin'

My husband came home yesterday and, as is always the case, time has sped up. I guess it's because when we are together we have so much fun. (I can hear the collective, "Awwww" and sense the collective eye rolling as well).

One of the things we have always enjoyed doing in the evenings has been cooking. Even before the kids I remember this was our budget date night of choice and it has definitely come in handy after having kids, when money is allotted to more important things than movies and other expensive date ventures. So, per his request, my husband wanted to have what he calls "street tacos" which are just tacos cooked at home from scratch. This time we took the "scratch" part one step further and did the corn tortillas ourselves.  Now, if you've never attempted homemade corn tortillas, do not be intimidated or dismayed! It is NOT hard and you will NEVER EVER want to eat the pasty, gummy, and sometimes crumbly store bought version again. I promise you.

We don't have a tortilla press, we just used the rolling pin and tossed them into our cast iron skillet and flipped them once and they turned out simply fantastic. That roasted corn smell with toasty edges and just enough pliability to load it up with shredded beef and cilantro and cheese and homemade pico de gallo with a splash of fresh lime perfect to fold up. When you bite into it, that's when you know. That perfect corn taste with just enough bite, but not gummy or chewy, JUST RIGHT, super easy, and absolutely DELICIOUS.

We are compelled to make more to finish off the leftover fillings tonight... that's right, we ate the entire first batch last night. That good.

You're welcome.

We've Come to the End

Here we are.

Tomorrow my husband arrives home once again and we can continue on with our normal lives. Well, our relative version of normal anyway, but that is just fine with me!

This month loomed ahead of my like an evil albatross to conquer. I don't know about conquering it, but I definitely survived. The kids and the dog did, too and I'd like to think that we are none the worse for the wear.

Items Accomplished:

Ice Cream at Smolak Farm
Story Times
Craft Times
Fourth of July Fun
Sprinkler Park Fun
Various Mall Fun
The Children's Museum
Shows on the Common
Concerts on the Common
The Lake
Various Play Dates
Vacation Bible School
Imajine That
Various Park Ventures
Various Restaurant Ventures
Church

I'm shocked at this list actually and I managed to keep everyone clothed and bathed and the house not a complere disaster. Sort of.

Well, I'm officially tired. Good night and I probably won't post tomorrow as I will have someone to talk to tomorrow night other than Sebastian... or I will be asleep in peace knowing if something goes wrong or if Oliver decides to raise the screen yet again and hang out the window shouting at the neighbors, my husband can deal with it.

Thank you all for listening... I appreciate it.

Penultimate

We've survived the penultimate day.

I love that word and rarely get to use it. So there. I did.

It began easily enough, as most days can, until things go absolutely haywire. Today, I am proud to say, nothing got too deep under my skin. It's because... you guessed it, it's the penultimate day.

My mom's day off and again she offered to join us and we ended up at Imajine That. The kids were having a great time until, of course, The Hunger hits. Always about an hour or so after we arrive ANYWHERE and they could have had a nine course meal directly beforehand and absolutely inevitably one hour after we arrive everyone is completely starving to death.

Re-directed as much as I could, but we were going to have to leave. I know they have food there, but I didn't want to eat kid food. And right before we do so, the kids see the dress up stuff and off they go. Fine. Until I bed over to pick up the diaper bag and the male child runs over to me and whacks me directly in the eye with a tiger puppet. "Sorry. He's a really, really strong tiger and he wanted to growl, Mommy." As though it was my eye that got in the way. Excuse me. I didn't need the vision in my left eye anyways.

That was that and off we go to whines about leaving and, already, them complaining they want to go back. Hm. I'm confused as to why we are leaving then. Oh. Yes, that's right. You haven't ever, ever been fed food before in your entire life and had to remind me of your level of starvation every minute and a half. In order to stave off whines, but not completely give in, we pick a restaurant that is both interesting, but not Chuck E. Cheese. Somehow still things just aren't good enough and there is still pouting and whining from my oldest the source of which is completely non-existent. I think she just likes to make a point to show people just how much her little life seems to be missing. Which is nothing. Oh wait. I spoke too soon. The ONLY thing missing from her life at those points is... again, you guessed it, her GOOD ATTITUDE.

Finally, the tables turn. Things perk up. Food arrives. All is well. After a few bathroom visits- everyone else seems to always need to go the second Mommy gets back from attending to just one individually, why we can't all just go together and get it out of the way, I'll never know- my son gets The Look. I immediately tell him to sit back and calm down. He continues eating and then it happens. He vomits his lunch directly onto the plate he's just eaten it from, luckily enough. No muss. No fuss.

Seriously, Folks. You can't make this stuff up...

So, The Vanishing Act occurs. Well, the bill was paid by lovely mother while I dragged my son and the baby to the car. Who upon entering his seat starts whining immediately about how hungry he is and that he wants to go back to the play place. I calmly tell him that he has just thrown up in the bazillionth restaurant and he can wait for dinner. As for doing more things for the kids, that boat has sailed.

So we end up at the mall. On the carousel. Meme had had enough after that and I don't blame her. She should have bailed after the vomit episode. Then after dinner, we end up at an hour long story time at the library. Joke's on Mommy, I guess. It was at story time where my kids got "cute" and "chatty" sitting right up front and telling the librarian and all the kids and their parents our entire family history and how Daddy is on a trip and loves to play soccer with them and how if they asked their Mommy to join the pirates on the ship, Mommy wouldn't mind and would send us off for a few days... Hm. Where do they come up with this stuff?

Tomorrow is my last day of this arduous parenting journey... oh wait, no it isn't, I just get a few days of help from their Daddy. I'll gladly take it!

Rolling Down the Hill

Midday Wednesday is my Mecca. I'm almost there. We have six full family days until his next trip! It's much shorter than this training time, but I think since he was gone twenty some odd days, he should be home at least ten, right? Oh well...

Even though I know he wouldn't say a word about the state of uncleanliness should the house be untidy, I have already begun the clean-up. The attempt to make myself as Donna Reed-esqe looking as possible. "Looking" being the key word, because I've obviously made it quite clear from the daily accounts of our fiasco ridden existence that I am no Donna Reed. A girl can pretend, though...

The past few weeks didn't turn out as I expected, but I've learned a lot about myself as a parent and I've had to work through and re-think some things and I think it's been productive overall. I hope.

Two more days to hang on until my brief reprieve where we are together for our "weekend" or I should call it "month end" because that's what it is. Rolling down the hill is so much easier than struggling up it!

Not For the Faint of Heart... Or Stomach

I'm the one who had coffee for dinner so why are my children still awake and I'm combatting the weariness? Go figure.

As is usual these days, today didn't go as planned. What can you do?

I remember being a child and I remember my logic, albeit faulty, concerning many things and I recall the reasoning behind a few of my more interesting decisions, but I don't know what runs through my children's heads. I have a feeling the oldest one put him up to it, but at one point as I was finishing up feeding the baby in her high chair, my son comes running into the room laughing hysterically. As I turn around to see what the fuss is about, I see that he is standing now in my dining room with his pants and underwear at his knees. I proceed to instruct (and when I say "instruct" I really mean "yell in shock") to pull his pants on immediately. He then turns around and shows me the source of his laughter. Let's just say a piece of poor Mister Potato Head has been thrown out and I've had to instruct (and when I say "instruct" I mean "yell in horror") on the ONLY places where Mister Potato Head pieces should be placed in are the holes on the Potato Head. Oh. My. Good. Gracious. Who comes up with this stuff???

If someone had told me all this seven years ago before I was bit by The Baby Bug, I wouldn't have believed it. Or I would have thought, "MY child would NEVER do that!" Regardless, it's by far THE nuttiest thing every to be a parent.

And I'm STILL putting him back to bed!

Three more bedtimes to go...

Short and Boring

Well, it's hit. That bone crunching tiredness.

We've had a long week. A long month.

I should be doing dishes, laundry, sweeping the floor, dusting, mopping, organizing, making grocery lists, planning a birthday party, a house-warming, anything but sitting here... I could be writing some funny anecdote about my day and my now Normal Hair- My daughter said I look like a Fairy Princess Queen. I'll take it. -but, I'm not. Because I'm tired and don't feel like it.

Had a somewhat restful day. Am calling it a night. Tomorrow will be bright and shiny and new and it's one day closer to a return to our normalcy.

Re-Calculating In My Favor

Six Days!

Not that my math is all that great in the first place and also, I do have a few theories concerning time as well (i.e.: my countdown to Christmas is usually one day less than most folks because I don't count the last day before Christmas because it's MERE HOURS, not a DAY...), but my husband has his check-ride scheduled and so now he knows that he will able to come home WEDNESDAY! Yes, my friends, he is coming home soon!

I am so excited to be making normal family plans once again and not just "Filling in Summertime" plans. Plus, as all Mommies can attest, children tend to be on slightly better behavior when it's Daddy Time. I'm glad I made (and was able to keep!) a hair appointment for tomorrow so my husband doesn't have to come home to a woman with a nest on her head that all manner of animals could possibly make home within. Yay! That and whenever I pull down my hair from it's obligatory Mom-Do (or Don't, as is the case), I find much to my shock and dismay each and every time as though it's the first time I'm noticing them, the Dreaded Gray. I am much too, too young to have this occurring. Every time I see one, I find myself making a mad dash and scramble for the tweezers and start in on the quest to divide and conquer to ensure they aren't getting too comfortable upon my youthful scalp. However, every time I yank one out, I turn ever so slightly and see another all too familiar glint. And then I go for that one and then another and when I miss and pull out the wrong strands, I think, "Mayday! Mayday! Soldier down! Good Soldier down! Noooo!" And then I wonder if a gray strand will grow in it's place... I know I could Google it, but frankly, that's not information I feel I can handle right now. A girl (yes, GIRL) can only handle so much at a time, you know. In any case, my husband can come home to pretty shiny hair that is the proper color and not in a tangled knot on the top of my frizzy head. And I get a wee nap at the hair salon!

In less than a week, we will be Normaling once again...  until the next trip, but we don't have to think about that right now, do we?

Quick Post

Nine Days Left.

Last night we were out at a church event and fun was had by all. The line to the ice cream truck, however, was not necessarily my favorite portion of the evening, but the kids enjoyed it thoroughly and we were home at about 10 and everyone promptly passed out. Success. I'm expecting tonight and tomorrow to be the same! I've already warned them that the ice cream truck will not be repeated and I am fully prepared to weather any nasty attitude.

Today the moments have been nice. We made meatballs together. Everyone had a job. I would chop up garlic and onion and put it in the measuring cup so my son could dump it in the big bowl. My oldest daughter was the egg cracker and putter awayer. Cooking really is a wonderful family diversion. Even on the hardest days, I think that it's a wonderful distraction. This morning started out with the same old aggravations of my son doing everything he felt like doing and disregarding what he was told. That's fine. I kept doing what I know to do and stayed in "My Happy Place". I know sometimes it's easier said than done and I am the last person who will tout about how well they are doing because I know that I have fallen quite short daily, hourly, and some days even by the minute. No one is perfect and I am grateful for each and every day to try again... even if I don't always get it right, I love my family and that's all they really need, right?

So, the meatballs are in the crockpot  because it's too hot to turn on the stove (again, hooray electricity!), attempting to keep the kids busy without the use of the television, and have them get involved with the cooking and cleaning and picking up. They seem to do better when given tasks to complete. My son was so excited to take out the trash so, great! Have at it!

Hanging in there for the home stretch.

I *heart* Electricity

There is nothing more terrifying than at 9 a.m. having National Grid show up at your home (boasting four currently blasting air conditioners no less) threatening to turn off your electricity. When it's going to be over 90 degrees. Some mix up concerning our billing information.

I was almost in tears and I think between the barking dog, the two babbling older ones and the raspberry blowing baby, he had pity upon me and called the company using his direct code to get me in contact with an actual person so that we wouldn't be left high and dry... very hot and dry at that. What I don't get is why they approach you from the start as if you are trying to rip THEM off. As if I was stealing the electrical current. Um, no. I plug things in and they work. The bill comes, we pay it. Well, my husband does, but still. I'm not "pulling a fast one" on the electric company. When he saw how utterly shocked and confused and frantic I became, he seemed to soften a bit. Got things shaken out and we didn't skip a beat with our electrical current. Whew.

Other than that small snafu, the day was lovely and had a nice play date for my little one and Mommy got to chat... It's like a small vacation, really. Sometimes I feel a little guilty about how different things are with the third child. The first two had so much more one on one time and play dates with friends and with the youngest, she gets shuttled about so much with all the stuff we have to do for the older two and I think this was the first time in a while that she has had play time with a little friend. I know she is only a baby and doesn't realize that she is getting the shaft, but as a Mommy it makes my heart happy to be able to give that same attention in that way... And, selfishly, I get to have a Mommy chat and it just makes the day so much easier to handle afterwards. It's a breath of fresh air.

And since it's Monday, I can say, "My husband comes home next week!" The end of next week, but STILL!

Tonight I promised myself that I would get some rest, so this time I actually WILL read and then go to bed at a ridiculously early hour because I can and I probably should.

Ice Cream Appreciation

How many ice creams can children eat in a day and still burn off the sugar rush in enough time to sleep at a decent hour?

The answer is two and space them about four hours apart. And then make them run in circles afterwards, but not so much that they vomit or anything.

I hope I'm not about to jinx this whole thing and now I've got that John Mayer song running through my head, "Don't believe me, when I say, 'I've got this down.'" We are over the halfway hump and it feels easier. It's comforting to know I have a week filled with plans for activities with friends and outings and story-times and shows in the park, free bowling coupons, church events, you name it and it's on the calendar. So, this is all just the downhill roll, I hope, believe and pray until my husband returns.

Maybe that's why I'm starting to think this isn't so hard because I can feel the end coming. That or maybe I'm just becoming completely delusional from sleep deprivation and am having a mild heat stroke. Either way, I'm starting to get excited and plan for all the fun stuff we get to fit in between his regular and MUCH SHORTER trips. See, it's all perspective! A week long trip to Europe, bah! No problem!

My husband mentioned that this trip seems so much more difficult than ever before. Well, this is the first uber long stretch with three children, we've just moved and the kids are on summer vacation. It's a trifecta of craziness. But things are going... We keep trucking along and having fun as we can and tomorrow is a new day! And all my sweet Mommy friends are in the same Summer Time boat. Gotta keep those kids learning, happy and MOVING!

On to the next.

And the Worst Mommy Award Goes To....

Today was awesome...

No, no it wasn't at all. The upside? I got to bathe. So, that's good. But, it's not helping me much now because that was thirteen hours ago and it's been over 90 degrees since, so...

I earned Worst Mommy Award of 2012 already and it's only July. So all you other Mommies can pat yourselves on the back because that's already taken. After a completely embarrassing display at breakfast this morning (did I mention we went to a restaurant? Maybe I should just feed my kids at home from now on), I may or may not have ignored my children and thrown myself onto the bed and put a pillow over my face for a while. Then, when that didn't help much, I decided to swig some hours old, cold coffee from my mug that I left out on the counter (Don't judge, you know you do it, too!) and DO something. Remember the list from yesterday? I attempted to do a few of those things. Put on the television (Don't judge! You do it, too!) and I put the baby in her activity center where she proceeded to scream, and I walked away to get the laundry through the wash and dry from start to finish, make beds and get the pile of dishes clean because they were climbing so high that I could no longer fit anything beneath the faucet. After a while, I realized things were quiet. Uh oh. Went to check on the kids and what did I find? They were sitting nicely watching their show. The baby however (My Precious Little Angel) was slumped forward, cheek resting on a protruding toy activity in her little circle of fun, fast asleep (!!!!!!!). Hello... it was nap time and THAT was why she was screaming. Come on! So I scooped her up and held her for awhile because I felt TERRIBLE that I left her like that and I was trying not to be too enraged with the older two after their horrific display earlier and for not telling Mommy that their little baby sister was asleep sitting up in her activity center! Some people are just so self involved...

Funny Aside: My son who was (and is always) the last one rolling about in his bed saying how un-tired he is, calls me into his room.

"Mommy, tell me to get some sleep."

"Okay, Oliver, you need to get some sleep."

Dramatic sigh and, "Oh Mommy. Why do you always tell me every day to go get some sleep?"

*sigh*

Thirteen days? Or thereabouts? I am now starting to lose track.

A Good Day!

An uneventful day is a good day. 

I am happy to report that I've made it to the halfway point and two weeks from today, my husband should be home or at least on his way home. The first half is always the hardest with the extended absences, I think. The kids are adjusting for a while and it's hard to be happy and positive all the time at the beginning because you know it's such a long, lonely stretch of time ahead. 

We did drop in craft at the library today and the kids were acting delightful. In fact, it was another Mom's turn to have The Screaming Child today. It wasn't me! I did send her many sympathetic smiles and looks, though as she struggled along. Honestly though, I am just glad it was a turn for me to have the well-behaved ones today. How refreshing to sit and pretend like we are a quiet and controlled family and I can look like the good little Mommy while my well-adjusted little darlings make crafts and say adorable things that cause the library lady to make a point to tell me how much she loves my children. 

I kinda feel like a fraud when this occurs. It's all for show. Watching and waiting for the End Scene and all hell and it's fury to be unleashed. Ha! But it didn't! Not today! The sun shone brighter and the air smelled sweet and all is well. 

On another note, I've run the same load of laundry through the wash three times because I keep forgetting it's in the washer and by the time I remember it's been in there a day or so and it's musty. Disgusting. 

That and I haven't had much chance to clean since The Departure. I've neatened things daily and keep things straightened and uncluttered, however, there are dust bunnies and dog hair balls forming in corners and creeping out from under the beds and when the afternoon sun hits the kitchen and the light falls on the fridge, I see fingerprints and streaks everywhere... Don't even get me started on the bathroom... I know there is that saying that says that good moms have dirty kitchens and happy kids and all that, but seriously, can't I at least keep up with making sure the kids aren't sleeping on the same weeks old sheets? Oh boy. 

Leaving all that for tomorrow...or the day after. Whatever. Today, I revel in the sweetness that was a relatively stress and bicker free day and with that, I shall retire with a book... 

If You Feed a Baby Soda

It's hard when we get caught up in life to remember to listen to children. This is one of my short-comings. The days are endlessly long and tiring and by mid-afternoon, all I hear is whiny tones and nonsensical annoying phrases that start to irritate me to no end and all I want is silence, to have the grating little voices cease. For this, I feel bad. They are children and deserve to be heard just like anyone else. They can't help it if they don't make much sense and their sense of humor is child-like, obviously, because they are, you guessed it, still children.

As annoying as some patches were today, I tried to make a point to listen.

I'm glad I did because I was heartily amused and realized that it's been some time since I've laughed  hard.

My kids have become quite the masterminds of cajoling their Meme and Pepe into taking them out to lunch and today my eldest daughter got her Pepe to take us to Wendy's. The kids were eating and talking and I saw my father, their Pepe, attempt to fill his straw with diet coke and give it to the baby. So I practically spat out at him, "Daddy! Don't give her that! She can't have soda!"And immediately my older daughter pipes in quite emphatically, "Pepe! Don't feed that to our baby! If you feed babies soda, then they will blow up!"

I have no idea where she got this idea. Perhaps it's the bubbles that lead her to believe that babies will explode much like seagulls or pigeons who've consumed Alkaseltzer. I'm not sure, but I'm still laughing and I'm glad I was listening.

The Vanishing Act- Day 16

It was all for the best but all of our big plans today didn't pan out. We made it to Item #2 on the list and there was, of course, an incident and Mommy hightailed everyone out of there before she crumbled in complete mortification.

Whatever possesses these children to do half of the things that they do, I will never understand.

My husband doesn't quite understand this, but one of my coping mechanisms is The Vanishing Act. In all honesty, when my kids act up, I get EMBARRASSED! It's not that my face is red because I'm angry with my child, I get upset when they make terrible decisions, but frankly, I want to vanish when things go awry. There is nothing WORSE than having to drag your child across a playground to complete strangers to apologize to a crying child and parent that you don't know. Some parents are gracious and I am thankful that my children have only treated their children badly...? That doesn't sound right, but I am not looking forward to the day when they pick on the wrong child and then MOMMY is going to have to get the earful from some not-so-gracious parent. We all know what's going to happen then: Mommy will cry. THAT will be embarrassing. Lord, spare me, I beg of you!

My plan is always the same: when things start to go wrong and before they can get any wronger, let's get out there! Fast!

My husband got a slight taste of this a few weeks ago when we all went to a birthday party for one of our son's pre-school mates. It was a pool party and we forgot the floaties. So, first there was the Jump In- you know when a fearless child (my son) just jumps into a body of water and then the fully clothed adult (my husband) has to jump in directly after in order to save the child. Since I wasn't alone and my sweet husband was ok with being in the water in his shorts, we stayed. Then there was a tantrum. Then there was a head-butt leaving my husband with a fat bloody lip at which point I asked if we should just do The Vanishing Act. Nope, he said, no... Then there was another tantrum and when my husband was in the bathroom, there was a second Jump In when Mommy was holding the baby and so another father had to fish my son out of the pool, when he subsequently threw up. When my husband comes out of the bathroom what does he find outside? Two crying children, a pre-school father graciously holding my baby girl and a crazed Mommy (me) trying to hose off vomit from the hosts deck as they begin to sing Happy Birthday across the yard to the birthday girl... This was on a good day when we were fully manned as United Parents. This is why I do The Vanishing Act.

I'm pretty sure we all do this... Right?

Anyways, they had a pretty decent afternoon at home, so for that I am grateful.

Bring on Day 15.

The Russian Clown, Julia Child, and Me

My day was full. It even had a Russian clown in it named Benjamin, I kid you not. He wasn't a weird, scary clown, just a nice Russian man from the circus in Moscow. He was the free town entertainment today. If anything, I will keep going back to the free shows because who else gets to say they saw a Russian clown that day? Other than the Russian circus people, I mean...

No offense to my kids, but frankly, I'm tired of talking about them. So let's talk about me for a minute...

Guess who was too "lazy" to go get bread at the store? Me. So, I baked a fresh whole wheat loaf from scratch. In the middle of summer. Lazy? Maybe not. But insane? Kind of.

Furthermore, I'm reading Julia Child's My Life in France. I knew I loved her before, but she really was a quite remarkable and fun lady. I used to watch The French Chef on PBS on Saturday mornings when I was a child. I loved it. Can you believe I lived in a world that didn't have The FoodNetwork? It amazes even me! I digress- I think it was because I was reading it in between things here and there while I was giving the kids their space (i.e.: Mommy needed a break from the craziness so she put everyone in their rooms for an hour so she could be lazy and read) that inspired the whole let's not make that long (three minute) trek to the store and spend money ($3) on bread when I can just simply whip some up here real quick (takes like three hours). But anyway, the house smells fantastic, it gave me something productive to do, the kids will have fresh whole wheat bread for their dining pleasure tomorrow. Who's not happy?

Here's the thing: Sometimes you have to do stuff for yourself or you go nuts. So today, I found the Russian clown quite amusing, and I made time to read and bake what I felt like baking. It's a simple life, but it's mine.

Enough with the rambling. And Day 17 (is that all?!) on the countdown has come to a close.

Little Robots and a Sunburn

Given the nature of my children, most children really, the best way to combat their craziness, if you will, is insane activity. 

Today, we were up at 5:40-ish. 

General morning things such as playing and taking the dog out and breakfast and packing up for the day's outing (wait, those are mostly Mommy duties) are expected, then the day begins. 

We left our home a little past 9am and headed to Silver Lake in Wilmington. 

We played, splashed, made friends, had numerous time outs, ate lunch, dug up sand, collected rocks, chased little fish, you name it. 

Came back home where, in order for Mommy to get dinner ready and laundry going, a movie was in order- Mary Poppins which is about 2 hours. Popcorn and all. 

There was the wash down- unfortunately most of us have slight sun burns here and there, fortunately for myself and the children, I am the worst off. If it had been one of the kids, they would have been insufferable, so thankfully it was me and I really don't mind in the least. 

Dinner and then a bike ride to the library which began an hour before story time and turned into a rebellious little jaunt in the park that required a return ride home and then another walk back in time for story time and then the subsequent walk back.

Ok. My point in laying out my entire day is this- Does it sound exhausting? Wouldn't you expect a sleeping child the second their head finally collides with their pillow? 

The boy child is still tossing and turning in his bed. I usually hang around upstairs until I'm sure they are asleep, but this was getting ridiculous. The girls are out cold, but him? Ha! 

If I wasn't absolutely positively sure he was a human being, I would almost believe that he might be part cyborg... Really. 

At least I'm getting in my exercise! 

Signing off on Day 18.

Nineteen

Trying to keep kids busy and yourself feeling like a whole/normal/sane/hygienic person is sort of a contradiction in terms. 

Wouldn't you agree? 

Just got back from a brass band concert on the commons that we had to leave early on because I wanted to sit and enjoy the music, but the kids wanted to run to the opposite end of the park, pet random dogs being walked by their humans and shanghai unwitting teenagers' soccer balls. The baby was everywhere and kept trying to eat grass. So much for culture. 

They had a busy day and got to run and play and do kid things. So that's good. 

Now, I get to have a few quiet moments. I can even hear a clock ticking two rooms away... Amazing. 

The nights are a slight reprieve, but I have to admit, they are starting to feel lonely... 

Nineteen days left...

Side Note: People who aren't accustomed to this life balk when they learn my husband is gone for days even a week or so at a time. They don't realize that while those are challenging to a degree, it's a walk in a pretty park compared to these extended training sessions. My heart truly goes out to Military Wives- not knowing when and if their other half is returning any time soon at all. I should be slapped for my petty belly-aching over a short 25 days, huh? God bless those wives and families! 

Taking the Pressure Off

It's Day 20 and I am so happy that tomorrow marks the teens counting the days until my husband's extended trip is over.

Today started on yet another rough foot, but I stuck it out. And I took the pressure off of myself. Here's the thing. I am a naturally gracious and giving person. In high school I was dubbed The Softie because inevitably I would crack and give you whatever you asked for or help you with whatever you needed be it to copy my homework or give you my lunch... It's just who I am. And I don't think I am a total pushover because I will say what I think and hold my ground when it's truly warranted. It's hard reconciling this part of my nature with parenting however. I give too many chances. Warn too much. Believe that this TRULY is the LAST time that my daughter will lie to my face, the last poo poo word that will come out of my son's mouth... until the second my back turns, of course. And why does this always surprise and appall me? Because of my nature. But it's in THEIR childish nature to push boundaries and unfortunately, I have to toughen up and be Iron Mommy... which I hate. But, it gets the job done.

We have consequences in place and I need to just let it be. If they choose to misbehave, then they know the consequences. It's not my problem. So, I just stuck with it today. From start to finish. Yes, it's exhausting, but I felt in control. Even when they were out of control. Because they know, when they do X then Y is the consequence and you can leave Z (that's me) out of the equation entirely. I'm merely the Facilitator of Good Behavior. So, if you aren't going to behave then there is a ransom box filled with toys and a list of fun chores to do to get them back. And I'm not worried. I could see their little minds working. They know they have a lot of toys and I know they have a lot of toys and I could tell they were trying to figure out how long it would take for me to stockpile enough of their toys to make it hurt. The box isn't very big. I purposefully picked a small one. With a smirk on her face, the eldest asks, "So what happens when this is full?" I respond, "Mommy has a lot of empty boxes and bins and a whole empty attic to fill, so when you are ready to start behaving and earning your things back, that's fine." No pressure on me. I'm not the one losing my toys and I only gain little House Elves to help me clean.

Oh, and since I've been recounting a lot of negative experiences, I made sure to make note of one particularly precious positive one: This morning while changing the very messy diaper of my screaming little one, her older brother and sister came into her room and stood beside me and serenaded her very sweetly singing, "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray, you'll never know dear, how much I love you, please don't take my sunshine away." I always sing it to them and I always feel slightly bad about the wording because I don't have just one and only sunshine, I'm truly blessed to have three of them.

Until tomorrow.

Day 21

Today had it's good moments. And today had it's not so good moments. 

Of all things, this morning as I was using a butter knife mind you to break open frozen bagels to put into the toaster for the kids' breakfast, I actually sliced open my thumb. With a butter knife. How this is possible, I really haven't a clue, but there was blood everywhere and it hurt! So, be careful out there with your butter knives. They aren't as innocent as you think. 

Was able to cross off a few items that I wanted to accomplish today, so that's always a plus. The kids are still adjusting (or that's what I tell myself when they get all crazy-like) and so we continue to work on it. 

Four days down. I'm sorry to say it feels longer.

Kids are in bed. I probably won't last much past nine considering the week we've had, but in typical Jennifer style, I've borrowed three huge books from the library at one time. How I think I can manage to read three books in three weeks when the only Me Time that I get (if it's a good day) is after 8pm and by then, I'm spent and nod off if I read for more than an hour or so. It's comforting to have them piled next to me though. It's like I always have friends just sitting there smiling at me. Just there, waiting to chat to me whenever I've got the chance. It's nice. And on that kinda pathetic and slightly creepy note, I shall sign off. 

"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense."

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

A quote to live by.

That Story...

You know the story. The one that parents always have to tell. The one time that Little So & So was no where to be found... Well, today it's my story. And it was my little So & So.

If you know my son at all, you will not be in the least surprised. I certainly am not. If you have three children and they are the way that my children are... it's not that I expect bad things to happen, I don't, it's just that there are certain inevitabilities that you know are bound to happen sooner or later. Like the lost tooth. Except it's still in the head of the child and it's the whole child that's missing.

And this is me being optimistic and feeling prepared planning such a little trip down to the Boston Children's Museum. My mom had the day off and thought it would be fun to come along with me and the kids. It's practically a rite of passage around here. If you didn't grow up going to the Children's Museum, then you might as well have lived in a cave somewhere. It's just THE THING to do as a child. We've been before, of course, but I wanted to take them again as something to do this summer because it's been so hot. So I plan and pack a bag and go over how it's going to go in my head and oh boy, my version of it is so very lovely. It has kids playing nicely together blowing bubbles and helping one another climb the hanging maze and skipping hand in hand to the construction room as I push the little one along behind. Well, maybe not that perfect, but I thought it would go smoothly and they would play and have fun and, most importantly, be drained of energy and sleep like logs until 8am the next morning. Mommy has a dream!

Not so. We'd been there approximately ten minutes. Enough time to have our hands stamped, the kids rapidly climb the maze and come back down and get to the power seats. This is where my little boy did something I didn't quite catch to my eldest girl that made her very upset and whine about her thumb. Attending to the non-existent wound and attempting to distract from said wound, I see my son out of the corner of my eye. A moment later, he isn't there. Not a big deal. He does this. So I walk around the play area. Don't see him. Then I start calling his name. No answer. I walk slightly faster. I call a little louder. Nothing. Just other happy children and capable parents who can seem to control and keep their children in eye sight. And this is when it happens.

This is when that out of body things happens. The moment where you are in your head and you can hear your thoughts trying to calm you down where they say, "You are over-reacting. He IS here and you just can't see him. This will all play out just fine. You'll see, but this is That Story, so you are going to flip out, but all will be well." And you hear this in your head, but as you are frantically darting about and bumping into people and calling out your child's name as your heart starts to threaten to choke you to death, you see yourself in a police station trying to make sure that you remember every curve of your child's skin and every freckle and the very shade of every thread of clothing he is wearing and you, of course, flip out.

As I'm frantically calling, one of the museum attendant girls calmly walks over and asks if I'm looking for someone. No, I just love making a spectacle of myself in public running back and forth calling out various names to see who comes running. I explain I can't find my son, where we were and what he's wearing and then another girl comes and whips out the walkie talkie. Oh My Good Gracious Merciful God Almighty in Heaven. This is equally embarrassing and flat out terrifying. So, in the eighteen seconds it takes for her to put in the call concerning my son. I am basically walking away still calling his name, because we are obviously wasting precious time while I stand here chatting with you, I could be screaming his name on the first floor again so that everyone who walks in can get in on my drama and have a story of their own to chuckle over at home over their dinners about the crazy mother at the museum.

By the time I come around to the front of the maze, I see my mother is walking over with him and had found him in an adjoining play room. This is when I break into that movie run when the long lost child is reunited with his mother. I scoop him up and break down into sobs. Does he hug me back? Doesn't he know how lost he was? No and no. He starts hitting me and pulling away to be put down screaming that he was playing and wants to play. Awesome.

Instantly I'm thinking, "Great! Now these people think I put on this whole ruse so I could kidnap a child because what kid what NOT be happy to see his mother when he's been so lost?!" He wasn't lost. He knew where he was. He wanted to play. I put him down, hold his hand -won't be letting go any time soon- and bring him aside and attempt to explain to him what happened. As I'm crying, he starts to get visibly upset. Not because he understands what I'm going through. He wants to play. I've disrupted his playing. Ok. What else can I do? I'm not angry, just not happy. I know what I told myself when it all began to play out. All mothers do this. This is what happens when That Story occurs. This was my setting and my characters and my children and my life. And now I'm drained.

So, I pull myself together the best I can after the longest three minutes that aged me nine years and we move along.

This was That Story.

"The Fourth" or "Day 23"

We began with some challenges and attempted to move beyond them.

We went to a cookout and ate. It began to get much too hot to play outside and who wants to sit inside on Independence Day? Well, I do, but children have different ideas concerning these things. We ended up at the play center at the mall.

Things were going quite well until, well, they weren't and we had to leave. Immediately.

Then there was the lightbulb that went on after some brainstorming and after a detour for bathing suits and sun grease, we ended up at the sprinkler park.

Things were going quite well until, well, they weren't and it was getting close to time for more cooking out and eating, so we had to leave.

More cooking and eating happened.

Then we came home. Not everyone is sleeping, but they are quiet and in bed. I expect them to be asleep very soon. And The Mommy and The Furry Buddy sat and each silently rejoiced.

The End.

Hard Lessons All Around

Day 24
 8:03pm
 My children did not have the best of days. In fact, I made up a new little system that I felt was a sure fire win. A foolproof ticket to the fireworks. Nope. Didn't work.

 In fact, they even told the neighbor about it as I stood there, embarrassingly enough, calling their names to come back over to me and they were ignoring me to tell him all about my three strikes plan. Up side is they obviously understood it. Downside is instead of three happy little stickers by their names and a hop down the street to see the fireworks, they have three red X's and are fast asleep. Well, it's an upside for me because instead of having to drag them out in an hour, they are already in bed... Not looking forward to the booms that shall begin in an over an hour. So I sit here, exhausted having been prompted awake by the four year old at 5:45am informing me that the sun is, in fact, awake and so should we also be. I inform him every single morning that this is incorrect. I am still waiting for the enlightenment to hit him. I hope it does very soon for both our sakes.

 Here's the thing I don't get. I don't count myself a genius on any level and I know for certain I am not what you would call gifted in dealing with all manner of children, but I do consider myself to be not stupid. I am educated and even when comes to dealing with the kids, I have read myself crazy; reading up on all kinds of ways to deal with this and that and connecting and feeding and training and encouraging and whatever else, but sometimes I feel like we are the ones being duped. My kids don't care if I have a positive feedback philosophy in dealing with them or if I am a rewards and punishment kind of parent. They don't care if I tell them how I feel and ask them how they are feeling. I mean, I am sure they do care on a basic level that Mommy cares and is talking to them, but really, today is a day where I feel like I thought too much and definitely talked too much. What it boiled down to is that they wore me out because I had to repeat simple instructions too many times. I reminded them over and over and over again the events of the evening that they should be mindful and listen and think twice before making their choices. All because I wanted them to want to go somewhere enough so that they would listen! They had their good moments, but the not so good moments overtook too much and at one point Mommy and Jennifer had to spar. Mommy is cut and dry- no one has been quick to obey, I've given them fair warning, they obviously understand as they can explain in great detail the actions and consequences, NO FIREWORKS. We are all tired and to take them would be a disservice to myself and to them, not to mention makes Mommy out to be a wishy washy liar and I have just dealt with my oldest THREE TIMES today about lying. But then Jennifer, the personality pushover part of me, feels terrible. You only live once. These are supposed to be the fun kid things that they are supposed to remember, that time when Mommy took us all to the fireworks... but what comes after is the part that I don't want to know what happens next, because it would probably end with me yelling at a child in the streets in the night like a crazy person so it's all for the best, it is what it is and I'm NOT about to wake them up and I do hope they sleep soundly through the noise.

 All this to say, being a Mommy is hard. It's hard to balance things and when we feel we've made a decision we beat ourselves up about it, at least I know I do. In all fairness to myself, my kids aren't missing out on anything. They've been to fireworks before, they will go again, we are definitely celebrating tomorrow all day with cookout fun, so I really shouldn't feel too badly at all... right?

Tomorrow is a new day. It's Independence Day and worthy of celebration and fun and relaxing. At least the kids will be worn out again tomorrow night.

Here's to a healthy and happy Fourth of July to all ...and to an easier day!

Twenty-Five Days and Counting... Again

This time last year, I was uber pregnant. It was fires of Mordor hot. My two oldest were climbing the walls. And my husband was hired for his fabulous new job and was sent for a 28 day training. Fast forward a year. I'm no longer pregnant (even though one might still make the assumption from my ever present lump-ish-ness- I am still working on it!). It is still Fires of Mordor hot, unfortunately, but at least I'm in air conditioning! And my husband has been sent to training for something new. Again. And I've got an actual house to hold down (I'm actually very excited about that!) and three kids to maintain this time. Insurmountable task? I hope not. I've known for a few months that this was coming and I've made lists, checked them twice, researched a few fun things in the area that are kid-friendly and, well, let's be honest, FREE, and I've attempted to make peace within myself and center my resolve that no matter what happens, I am going to maintain a peaceful, Zen Jenn. Let's see what happens in REAL life... My husband left midday. I directly called my mother to join us for a jaunt to the local farm for some ice cream for the kids- ok, again, let's be honest, also for me -so I could fill in the rest of the day (I have come to find that departure days are ones that need to be filled with chocolate, and treats, and anything I can find to keep my children- *ahem* AND MYSELF -from flipping out or having a complete breakdown because it's not easy to have this kind of revolving door in life). So after my mother left from our wallow- I mean, ice cream fun day- it was time for dinner and a walk to story time and then home to bed. Whew. I've made it. To the beginning. So, Wallow- I mean, ICE CREAM FUN DAY!- has come to a close and Day 24 begins tomorrow. Tomorrow is the town fire works... at 9:30pm. At night. After a whole day. Of kids. Three of them. And then we go out late at night to see things blow up in the sky. So this time tomorrow- and right now I'm propped up by four cushy pillows in bed in my inviting dimly lit bedroom with The Furry Buddy next to me and books and am practically nodding off- the right NOW of tomorrow is when I'll be standing with my ten month old and my 4 year old and 6 year old at the fire works as they JUST START. I think my planning has two flaws. 1)I'm not very bright. 2)I have not purchased enough coffee yet to propel me into the next 24 days. All joking aside, I am learning at the ripe old age of 31 that life actually IS short *gasp* and that it actually DOES go by fast- who knew?! -and my children will not be little forever *chokes back silent sob* so, living in each and every moment has taken on further meaning, more than it has ever before. But, again, let's see how the reality of the situation comically plays out in my life over the next three weeks shall we? And the countdown begins...