A Day in the Life

Twenty four hours. 

This time tomorrow, my wonderful husband should be walking through the front door. It will be glorious. 

Today just seemed behind the curve before it even began. My son, once again, kept up with Midnight Madness and I lingered in bed probably a little too long, but it was still early when I made the executive decision to put myself first this morning. Yes, I put myself first, I was "selfish" if you will, when I decided to take time and wash up. Yes. That's what I did. I didn't take long, but everything went down hill from there. Maybe it was due to my terrible selfishness and neglect of the children and dog that I was being punished with the craziness that was today.  

I leapt out of bed and decided, "No! I will NOT stink today! I am going to wash up and get ready FIRST!" and so I did. The dog yelped and whined the entire time. My son barged in and had to be shouted at three times to leave before he left the bathroom. He did this twice. The Little One wailed in her crib while the crib squeaked in rhythm to her jumping up and down. I jumped in and out and dressed and put my make-up on in record speed and with a revolving door of interruptions. Adjusted the children's clothes, threw some cereal at them as I fed and ran the dog out and of course, like the pied piper that I am, the older two followed me. Once back inside, the baby was still screaming of course and needed to be changed. The older two already standing downstairs bickering over something inane. In efforts to change a poopy diaper as efficiently and quickly as possible, it ended up in heap on the floor at my feet with a squirmy poop smeared child in my arms. Managed to clean that up, grab some cereal and milk for the little one to eat in the stroller on the way to school. And off we ran. 

Dropped off the First Grader and ran (and when I say "ran" I really mean just kinda walk as fast as I can) home to pop the younger two in the car so I could make an appointment. Got in the car and everyone settled and something wasn't right. I didn't quite understand that the car hadn't started until I had it in reverse and nothing was happening. I turned the key again and it just made an "I'm trying" kind of noise and that was that. The battery was dead. This I was able to surmise because my son has the ridiculously terrible habit of touching everything and anything that he shouldn't be touching and had turned all the lights on in the car for the bazillionth time. My dad had to pop on over to give me a jump and I was forty minutes late to where I needed to go. Wonderful. 

Was able to make it back home in time to get everyone a proper lunch after their rushed breakfast and then off for Little Man to be dropped off at pre-k. What was that? Did I briefly hear the sweet sound of angels sining in the distance? No, it was just the beautiful serene sound of QUIET because the Little Angel goes right down after drop off for a nap without a peep until it's time to pick up! 

So, coffee was chugged while dishes were washed and in a moment of insanity (I blame the sudden caffeine rush), I figured homemade cheddar biscuits would be a great treat for the kids to go along with their chicken soup for dinner. They are surprisingly easy to make... Don't know if that's such a good thing being how it's mostly butter and cheese... But they taste great! Whipped through rooms straightening and pulling out pjs and clothes for tomorrow, had a few more sips of coffee, dragged the dog back out and had to wake up the baby to go for pick up and drag out a huge pile of library books. After pick up we were meeting with friends at the library. The highlight of this completely crazy day. So after a quick coffee stop at Dunkin Donuts, we were off. 

Library fun was had by all,  got home, heated up soup, homework was completed with minimal whining (I'm being generous by saying "minimal" because it wasn't) and puzzles were done and then food was eaten and by then, whining and nonsense had hit a peak and Mommy needed everyone instantly in bed. 

So, that occurred as fast as I could humanly manage it and here I sit. On second thought, it was a good thing I got myself washed up this morning because if I hadn't, I'd still be stinky and would definitely NOT want to get up and do all that right now... 

Tomorrow is a fairly empty day and my husband comes home. And there goes the angelic chorus once again...

Georgie Porgie

Pudding and pie

Kissed the girls and made them cry...

Except in this story there is no Georgie, it's my son. 

Apparently he's quite the little ladies' man. Telling this one and that one that he loves them and then kissing the student of the week on the cheek when all the others did was give her a hug. My, my, my... it certainly starts young.  I thought I had to be attentive with my daughters, and I am sure that will all come into play sooner or later, such is life. But for now? My husband needs to hurry on home and have a little sit down with his son! We're already teaching him how to be a gentleman: ladies first, open the door and allow the girls to enter, let the girls have your seat if they need one, etc. And he is doing quite well, unless someone takes away his Gentlemanly Duties such as opening a door, if we open it before he reaches it, he will throw a screaming fit! "I WANTED TO BE THE GEEENTLEMMAAAAAN!!!! I AM A GENTLEMAAAAN!!!!" And we have to calmly remind him that a gentleman certainly doesn't throw a fit in a doorway. But he seems to get the point though, right? 

Two weeks ago, we were all out on a walk and passed by a Catholic school that is near our home. There was a line of middle school aged girls in their uniforms all in line walking across our path just up ahead. My Little Ladies' Man pipes in, "Hey Daddy! Daddy, look at all those gauhws!" Completely enthralled and staring at them. He can't even pronounce the word "girls" correctly, yet he is somehow already entranced. Here we go...

So, he'll kiss them and tell them he loves them, but beware, Girlies, he'll turn around and steal your snack and throw wood chips in your hair on the playground. Let's just give it ten to fifteen years, shall we? 

Wondering About You!

I've had a few comments from people I know who seem to read and I hope enjoy my blog, but there are more people who read and I don't get comments or queries or criticisms or anything... If at all. Ever.

I guess you all don't have much to say in response to anything I post, so I guess I need to be more controversial and edgy? More exciting? Maybe it's a good thing and you are all just amused and encouraged? I dunno. I guess I write mostly to clear my head at the end of the day and to remind myself that life is fleeting and tomorrow is a new day and on my worst of worst days, I am not alone. And as a side effect, neither are YOU! None of this is easy... If you read here, then it's fairly obvious.

But, I am most curious about those who are in Germany, Russia, and Switzerland that seem to be viewing. They keep recurring so I am not quite sure if it is a fluke or not or if I know someone over there and since they haven't said anything, I have no idea who it is. And no, it is not my husband because he isn't in Europe at the moment.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Three days left. One of which is a no-school day (tomorrow is Yom Kippur- wishing all my Jewish friends who observe a peaceful day of prayer and fasting!). I'll survive. I promised them banana bread for breakfast and I am planning on making them help, so Lord knows that will take up half the morning right there.

Just really looking forward to having my husband home for the weekend, though. I always say it, that I know it's terrible to wish your time away, but I really, really, really just want it to be Friday... But until then, I am determined to enjoy (or in the least not completely despise) the moments. My kids CAN be pretty wonderful at times. And funny. And they would be a lot funnier if they didn't get so mad at me laughing at them all the time...

Until tomorrow.

It's Fall And We All Know What That Means

All I can think about are books. It's fall and that's just where my mind goes. Books and warm baked yummy things and coffee and chocolate. 

I want to sit and bake and read and then eat what I've baked while reading and sipping a mocha. And these kids keep cramping my style! What? You can't dress yourself, make your own breakfast and walk by yourself to school? No? Fine... I guess my reading/baking/sipping plans will just have to hold off for, oh, I don't know, another four years until the newest child is waltzing into the school doors... And of course that is all contingent on if she is to be our last child. But for now, I've got four years until I have enough free moments to string together to actually put my baking/reading/sipping plan into motion. 

So until then, my nights are filled with stacks of books that seem to grow because I can't ever get through them fast enough because time seems to get more and more limited the older I get. Huh. Who's got time to even procrastinate anymore? If I don't do something, it's either because I don't have time or I flat out forgot, not that I've put it off. And if I've forgotten, it's because I'm busy taking care of my children and thinking about all the books I want to read later when they are in bed. 

Like I mentioned before, I'm reading I Still Dream About You and am just about done. I began The Quiet American  a little bit ago and that's on deck and I'm half way through The Stand which I put aside earlier this year and I am itching to finish it. King has such compelling stories and memorable characters it's a wonder I was able to set it aside for so long, but seeing as how it's fall and I can't get through a fall without reading something of his, this one it is! Also, I won a copy of one of my favorite author's new book, Jennifer Weiner's The Next Best Thing and it's been sitting on the coffee table just staring me in the face everyday (not that I sit at the coffee table all day long and stare). So, those are just a few of the ones that I've got floating about next to me at this point. 

What about you? I love to keep the stacks of books high and the lists far too long, so if anyone is reading and would like to pop a comment on any and all things books, I would love to hear! 

Put on a pot of coffee and grab a paperback and join me! 

One Ravioli, Two Ravioli

I made it through the weekend. If I made it through the weekend, then I can make it through this week.

Today didn't go as planned, but I was able to be productive, nonetheless... But that doesn't mean everything is done, but we are prepared to begin our week.

I don't know why children do this, but the meals are going to be a problem.

I made a ravioli lasagna. What kid doesn't like lasagna?! And I used ravioli instead of plain lasagna noodles. What's not to like? They won't eat it.

I froze meatballs and yet another pasta dish, but I can't pull that out until the ravioli bake thing is gone. I have chicken and rice soup, they don't like it. They like chicken, they like rice, they like broth and they've eaten SOUP before, but when I make things for a plan and plan that they will eat it and we will be fine, then of course, they won't eat it.

I've frozen little egg cups for quick breakfasts and half the time, they "don't like it"! It's egg and cheese and a biscuit! I don't get it. Even when I give them what they want, they don't want it. It's enough to drive anyone completely out of their minds.

Tonight, I pulled out the frozen chicken and rice soup and got it started. The whining started as I put it over the heat. It escalated as I served it up and it hit the breaking point when a bowl ended up on the floor and chicken and rice dripped from the sides of the chair.

And then it was bedtime.

Don't they know that half the world would LOVE to come eat at our house?! I tell them that some people get a little ball of rice to eat everyday and THAT'S IT and I get blank stares! I tell them that some children don't have a Mommy and they live on a street by themselves with no clothes or blankets. Again, they get this look on their faces like they wish they didn't have a Mommy at the moment because they are sick of listening to me. I'm not trying to scare them, but I am trying to put their "sad" lives into perspective. And they don't get it.

When can I send them to dig some wells in Africa? Well, maybe not, but I'm thinking we need to go hand blankets out at a homeless shelter or something super soon because this attitude of theirs has got to go and I don't think it's too soon to show them how to appreciate every little thing they have.

Until then, it's one ravioli at a time.

You're Not Hard Core Until...

I was up before dawn this morning. I was trying very hard to make sure that I was prepared for what I understood to be my son's soccer picture day. Practice starts at 9 and I had the impression that to be prepared for pictures, you needed to be there a half hour early. I had had about a string of fifteen or so emails concerning all things soccer for the older two who are enrolled that my husband has been forwarding to me because he is the athletics point person in our home and I am most obviously not.

As we know all things fall upon me when he is out of town, so I was barking orders left and right and gelling hair and making sure that gear was on properly and teeth were brushed and I had snacks for the little one and told the oldest one to bring books, just in case.

We hustled out of the house by 8:15 and hightailed it to the field across town so as to be right on time. I was somewhat impressed with my self.

I pulled in.

It was deserted.

It's was cool and misty out, but I was under the impression it was to burn off and it wasn't pouring and I had not received any communication concerning anything being cancelled.

So, stuck in a deserted parking lot of a deserted soccer field in a car with two bickering kids and a screaming teething child, I am scrolling through all kinds of emails and trying to reach my husband, when I find it- My son's picture day is NEXT SATURDAY. My daughter's picture day was to be today, but that wasn't until 11:30.

Still wondering if there is even practice today, we sit and Mommy endures as much of it all as she can when at about 8:48, people start rolling in.

At least, we were on time for practice and he had a successful go of it this time. Except for his chucking the ball directly at his friend's head- point blank. That ball bounced HARD off of that poor little man's noggin with a thud and he just smiled and when my son apologized, he said, "That's ok! It didn't really hurt!"These kids are hard core.

PS- Yeah, we're not doing the whole picture thing this season. Completely stressed me out and if we survive this go, we will do it in the spring, thank you very much.

And to all a goodnight.

Pull Out the Footie PJs

All summer long, I had to hide the fuzzy footie pajamas from the kids because in ninety degree weather they would insist on wearing them for whatever reason and then spend half the night complaining how hot they were and would inexplicable refuse to change into light summer pjs or simply wear undies and a tank top or something. Bonkers. 

It's getting colder. Today on a car ride, my son and I started a new fall game: "Yellow! I see yellow leaves," I would shout. Super excited to have seen the colors morphing beyond the green we've been seeing all this long hot summer. 

Of course, he didn't quite get the game because he would keep yelling in between the red and orange spottings, "Green! I see a lot of green leaves, Mommy!" 

We still have a way to go, but they are changing and they will probably all be aflame soon! But that means we've been pulling out the socks and the sandals have made their migration to the back of the closet and the footie pajamas have been revealed once again. 

So, what was my daughter wearing last evening? A flimsy summer nightgown. And tonight at dinner she had the nerve to complain about how cold she has been in the night. How she needs more blankets. 

Hm. I'm fairly certain that it's the wardrobe choices that are the problem. Now to find a hiding spot for the summer pjs... 

Another Countdown: Nine Days

I've got nine days ahead of me this trip. 

Ran out to an Open House at my daughter's school and then ran home so my husband could run out for his flight. And off he went. Kids are in bed reading or being quiet at least or maybe even sleeping, but in any case, all is quiet. 

This is when I gather all my strength. It's like being in one of those insane strongman competitions. You've got to gather every last ounce of patience and serenity and concentrate it down into one complete stretch of time. It's not a marathon-type of longevity where you just pace yourself quietly and jog along, it's a condensed intensity that lasts for relatively short bursts of time until my husband returns and things can even back out again, until the next insane burst. 

So, we've got school, story times, soccer, and church. I've got ideas for fun easy things we can do together. I've also the things to do perpetually to keep us clothed and fed and attempts at keeping the house looking unlike a tornado damaged sight. And in order to keep Mommy at peace, I have my closely guarded Mommy Time activities. 

This is why I am such a rigid stickler for bedtimes during trips because I can't be peaceful and happy if I can't get a few moments of peace to myself. Let's be honest, being a mother is rewarding, sure, but I don't get elated after wiping a poopy bum, I don't just love popping up every thirty seconds from a single meal to get everybody else another portion, another napkin, more water, or to mop up and wipe up the third or fourth or fifth spill of the meal. It's really not my favorite thing to do to answer the same question over and over and over again. I love my kids and I do these things and more because I want them to have a good life and these are just the practical things that need doing right now, but when lights are out and it's time to be going to sleep, Mommy is re-charging. During trips, I make sure I get whatever I can get done during the day out of the way so that my evenings are my own. I've stacks of books (currently reading "I Still Dream About You" by Fannie Flagg and it's taking quite an amusing and interesting turn and so far, I'd say that I recommend it!) and this go around I've got the audiobook of "A Game of Thrones" so that I can be "reading" while keeping busy. I've got yarn and knitting projects going- it's a great de-stresser and there is nothing like the feeling of putting your hands to something, literally, and having a physical material outcome of something to wear or gift or use. "Look what I just made!" is the best feeling ever! So even when I feel like a complete failure, if I am sitting and knitting, it's like at least I've got SOMETHING. It makes sense to me and makes me feel better. Some Knitting Nana from PEI is mailing me a cute hat pattern, too! I contacted her from Ravelry (fantastic yarn crafting sight) and she offered to photocopy it and mail it. I was about to suggest an electronic means, but it was then that I realized she was probably an older woman and I didn't want to push my luck! How nice is she?! And then there is always online shopping (mostly browsing and planning) and movies. 

So, just thinking about all those lovely things makes it easier to keep the kids happy and busy during Kid Time all day. And it keeps my mind off the fact that I am here and my husband gets to go to wonderful and fabulous places and I don't (I will not be bitter, I will not be jealous, I will not be bitter, I will NOT be jealous...) 

So, that's where I am at right now. I am retreating into my happy place. So just remind me of all this when you catch me in one of my Mommy Tantrums when the kids are acting less than desirable and I'm about to throw myself into the river, ok? Thank you!

Sleepless Nights and War Wounds

Some days are longer than others. You know, they just feel so much longer than a day should and by 4pm, you are itching to throw food on the table and wipe their little faces and put them in their beds because you honestly don't think you can take any more.

Yesterday and today have been days like that and we are starting in on another long stretch of a trip and I feel un-rested and ill-prepared to man this ship alone. My son alone is the major cause of my concern these days. God bless this child. He needs an extra bit lately. And so does his Mommy...

He had a scuffle with his older sister the other day and he survived with only a few gashes on his cheek. We are working on our Kind Hands, still... Sometimes I chock it up to tiredness. I mean, who doesn't have a bad day when they are tired?

Two nights ago, I was awoken in the middle of the night. To moaning. Ghostly moaning. Our house is a hundred years old and perhaps I read too much Stephen King, but it took me a few minutes to realize it was my son. What he was moaning about, I couldn't tell you. I went in to settle him down and I believe he was still asleep. Or faking. Who can tell? He did it some more after that and I was thoroughly freaked out by it so I sent my husband in. Then he began the wandering around. I would attempt to settle myself down and calm my rapidly beating heart and I would sense a presence. My eyes would pop open and there he would be, standing right over me or walking around the foot of the bed to my husband. He did this intermittently from about midnight until about 4am and we are up for the day at 6:30am or so and when asked about his antics in the night over breakfast, he says he didn't know what we were talking about. Or so the four year old says. Again, who can tell?

Thinking that he is probably beyond exhausted and will settle down without any troubles, we put them to bed last night and he was being himself, but then settled down. And then the storm began. Branches were falling about and doors were slamming shut in the wind and things propped up on the window sills were being blown over. Now, I fully expected the kids to have trouble sleeping. It was LOUD. I mean, these are the kids where if you step on the somewhat squeaky step on the stairs will wake up and ask for water, food, another story, anything. These are the kids where if you flush a toilet in the night, they will come around hearing you and say they have to potty, as well. They were SILENT, not a sound. So, today I was thinking they would be completely well-rested and un-eventful.

Not so. After the oldest went to school, he was climbing the walls. My husband gave him a bag of trash to bring out to the shed. A few moments passed and there was that weird wailing in the distance. The bag of trash was by itself sitting on the back porch. My husband and I ran out to see what was going on and off my son took from around the corner and ran away from us! He came back around from the other side of the house and as he approached, he was evidently wailing and had a gash on his nose and a purple welt forming under his eye. After about twenty minutes of him running away and crying, we were able to piece together the story: he dropped the trash to chase a squirrel and when he came back, he tripped up the steps, face planting on one on his way back up. Come ON! So, now, he has the scratch marks from his sister on his cheek, a slash mark on the bridge of his nose and a purple bruised line under his eye. Perfect. THEN! When picking him up from pre-school, I see him digging with his friend and one of them has a trowel and I watch as the child raises it above his head and brings it down with some force and my son is digging directly in front of him and just as I think, "Oh, this might not end well," he does it again and gouges right down onto my son's knuckle. Lovely. Again, he runs away. I try to run and comfort and he throws wood chips at me. These are the moments where I am grateful when my husband is home because he stalked right over and scooped him up and off we went home in a trail of wailing.

So, needless to say, I am tired and am I am sure he is also. What the problem is, I couldn't tell you. Growing pains of a metaphorical kind? Adjusting to new perameters with school and the house? Too much stimulation? Not enough stimulation? Maybe it's just a string of "Those Days" that just occurred together with "Those Nights" and things will be better for a few days in a row at least? I don't know. All I know is I am thankful for the grace to handle these children each and every day and the grace that he obviously needs to just survive... being himself, I guess. I am shaking my head just sitting here thinking about it all.

Tomorrow is a new day...

On Television

I am not going to pretend that I am one of those people who say they don't like or watch t.v. because I do. I never really just sat down to watch whatever whenever for hours on end when I could be doing other things, however. I mean, I had my favorite shows and I enjoyed having the Food Network on or when I was up late waiting for my husband to come home from a flight or if I was up nursing the baby there was always something crazy on on Bravo to keep me entertained at least. But when we moved into our home this past summer, there was no room in our budget for cable. And that was that.

Since we moved here in June, we have not had television. And I can't say that I miss it terribly. As long as one has internet, there really isn't any point to having cable especially with our lifestyle. My husband and I like to watch pretty much the same shows and I would have to wait and miss them anyways to ensure that we could watch them together if he had trips. The other shows that I think I might prefer to watch, I watch them when they are online, that is, if I even remember and now that the fall season is starting, because we haven't seen commercials or trailers for the upcoming shows, I have no clue what I am missing. Reading the newspaper I recognized ONE movie title that is playing. Nemo in 3D. That's it. We rarely get out to the movies anymore anyways... I have to say, it's a little odd. But do I mind? I've got to say that I am really enjoying it. If you think about it, television is just a habit really. A fail-safe. When there is nothing left to do, you turn it on and just sit. Now, it's not really an option. We have shows on the computer and we have hundreds of movies, but it has to be intentional: I am going to sit and watch XYZ and that's all there is and when it's over, you are done or you have to make another conscious decision to watch ZYX. No more getting carried away with whatever is on and looking up two hours later wondering what the heck I've been watching. So, again, I guess that's a good thing. Right?

With kids, it's a different story. There are times when I would LOVE to just pop on Disney Junior and walk away. Somedays, I would pull my own teeth and donate a kidney if it meant I could just throw on Nick Junior and be left alone indefinitely until someone got hungry or it was bedtime. Television isn't all bad and these days, when life is super crazed and stressful, kids can even benefit from a half hour of disengaged mindless entertainment and God knows Mommy could use a break to make dinner in peace.

We've gotten out of the habit of just popping it on whenever, though and I suppose that's a good habit to break. There is a dining room closet bursting at the seems with all manners of child activities, games, puzzles, and art supplies. There are stacks of books everywhere and their rooms are filled with more toys than could be employed by a small country.

Last week, my husband hooked up the antenna. We now get PBS, ABC, NBC and a Spanish channel. Could Mommy be any happier? Just the few moments of Peep and the Big World so Mommy doesn't have to smell for the third day in a row won't hurt anybody! It's amazing the little things we come to appreciate.

These Moments

Time is forever passing. The clock never ceases to tick away the minutes, the seconds of our lives. We are continually moving and striving and are about the busyness of day to day existence. Even in making these posts I am astonished at how much time passes between each entry at times. Has it really been almost a week? Has it only been JUST a week? See. It even plays tricks on us. How can it feel like just moments ago that I was typing away here last Wednesday and yet, I feel like worlds away from that moment?

Now, I don't mean to get deeply and darkly philosophical concerning life and time, but since it's been weighing on me heavily lately and the manner in which it passes and how we spend it, and we are all facing it whether we choose to address it or not, it's a key component of our human condition, I feel it is worth mentioning. Life is moving... Fast.

It's a thin gauze. We are merely a breath away from eternity or the unknown. I don't know if everyone feels this at this point or if it's just because children grow and change so quickly that life and mortality become so material before our very eyes. Moments ago I was a child and life had yet to happen. I was invincible and waiting for it all to begin. Then all of a sudden it seems I was living it and then it's like a cold wind: leaving you behind and you are grasping at it as it's whipping through your very fingers. I am now looking into the eyes of my own children who it feels like just moments ago were being born. The eldest is now six and a half, the other four and the little one is already a year old. How can that be? It's hard to bend my mind around it. I'm not quite sure why.

All this to say all that we already know: life is fleeting and we make it what it is. Hug your loves a little tighter and start living the life of your dreams. These days more than ever I remind myself to breathe it all in and to savor the little moments. These are what life is made of.

Until the next...

A Blink and a Blank Stare

I have no words for today.

I am not exaggerating or lying when I say that I have been sitting here with my feet throbbing and my brain buzzing and the sound of blood thumping in my ears with my head cocked to one side... and nothing. I mean, I have ideas, of course, always, on things I could start going on and on about, but quite literally this is taking all that is left within me to just type this out.

My sneakers have been laced tightly on my feet since 6:45am and I had a forty minute sit-down this afternoon between things, and in all seriousness I have been on my feet and on the go since. Lunch is ready for tomorrow. Coffee pot is set. Kids are in bed and haven't gotten up-- I guess this is what it takes to tire them out and consequently tire me out, too. I am about to tuck myself in bed with a book and call it a day.

And that, my friends, is that.

Soccer Mom

So, now I'm a soccer mom. I don't feel like one. I don't know what they need. I don't know how to put those weird socks on or how to fasten their shin guards so they don't fall off. I couldn't even figure out how to sign them up. My husband had to do it. He was here for their first practices and we made a family thing out of it. I chatted with other moms from town that I knew.

Now, my husband is gone. Practice is tomorrow night. I hope I don't make a fool out of myself and my child by showing up with all kinds of things going wrong and without a clue. I can ask the other mothers, I suppose. They always seem to have things straight and to know exactly what's what.

At my son's first practice over the weekend, one of the other Soccer Moms that I don't know came over to chat me up and frankly she scared me. I couldn't tell you what she was talking about. It had to do with soccer and the game and it was all manner of seriousness and in the end, she dragged her son out of the practice in a huff over the other players (all pre-school/ Kindergarten-aged) being too small or not experienced enough or something to the effect of them not being tough enough to handle her son playing soccer with them. Whoa. Ok. Originally she offered us one of her child's old jerseys and my husband was all concerned that now, we weren't going to get it because who knows if she is coming back. Now, I'm just a novice here and the only Soccer Moms that I have to compare to my reality are fictional and end up in fist fights with other moms and the refs and coaches and that's all fake, right? This is JUST a game for KIDS, right? I mean, I'd love for my kids to become little soccer gods and end up with scholarships, but that's in a perfect world. For now, I'm just hoping they burn off some energy, have a good time and learn to be good sports while learning skills of team-manship. Win, lose or draw, I could care less about anything else. Maybe it's because I didn't do sports growing up. Maybe it's because at heart, I am a peace-loving semi-hippy-ish person who truly believes it's how you play the game and knowing you are having fun and doing your best. Sure, who doesn't love to win, but this isn't the Olympics.

This is the first time in my life to have all kids of crazy plates spinning balanced on sticks that I'm holding. I mean, you think it's busy and it's summer and keeping kids busy is crazy, but putting them in scheduled activities and keeping them busy is just as crazy and hard. Huh. Getting everyone to school and it starts before that even, getting up at the crack of dawn to get everyone READY and then to take them and then rush-rush-rush-rush to get whatever you can done and the little one taken care of and then dinner and then activity and then ready for other things and ready for tomorrow and bed again... Whew. All in all, this past week has been a whirlwind of beginnings and we are gaining our bearings and soccer is the new thing for us and frankly, if it tires them out and they enjoy doing it and make friends, then I will feel like being a Soccer Mom is worth it's weight in gold.

Keeping the crazy coming until next time...

What Little Boys Are Made Of...

At the market this morning, he toppled over two large watermelons from their pile and they cracked open on the floor when they landed. While "helping" load food onto the conveyer belt to check out, he dropped a cottage cheese container and it popped open with a splat as it hit the floor at the feet of an employee who so graciously picked it up and offered to get a replacement. Then while loading the car he knocked into the bag with the eggs in it, and it dropped from it's perch on top of the other bags, thankfully none were broken. At a later appointment in an office building on official grown up business with Mommy and Daddy, he shot phlegm all over the conference table right in front of us as he was being held on my lap in hopes of keeping him contained. Can't keep him bottled up, no sir. At another store, we were in close proximity to another family and he sneezed all over my arm and the back of a poor little girl who looked up at her mother, "Mommy. He sneezed all over my back." She said it super quietly and it sounded like she was in shock. I felt terrible and apologized profusely. She offered her daughter some Purel. At the start of the day, he looked like any other energetic little boy, ready to face the day. At the end of the day, his eyes were tired and red. The front of his shirt that was white to start with is an unsightly gray with weird and unholy greenish tinges all down the front. Glittery bits of sand cling to every last inch of his sweaty little body.

We've walked all over town today and I hope he gets his rest... because tomorrow it all begins again.

A Few Things I've Discovered

I've come to discover a few things that I am going to share:

1) Yes, I am aware that my child is screeching at the top of his lungs in public and no, I do not think it is ok and yes, it is as equally annoying/unsettling/baffling/mindnumbinglyaggravating for me as it is for you to hear. 

2) Mommies listen to noises such as that all the time and while we absolutely HATE it, we have and USE an IGNORE button that suddenly develops once having children. If I am in a restaurant (not a posh one by any means, we are talking a chain restaurant at lunch time which is when Moms with their children are tolerated), and my baby starts her screechy "singing" which we laugh at at home, I am going to continue to eat. Just so you know. 

3) Old people like to look at smiling kids and coo and gush, but when the child starts to scream, they start to get.... well, nasty and mean. Go figure. 

4) This world is not family friendly or child friendly at all. And all those places that are 

"child friendly" are just out to shake down Mommy's wallet and take you for every last dime. Not the park, though. That's free. And the library. That's free, too. Just look behind all the furniture before returning books...

5) If an old person thinks your baby is cute enough, they will hand them money. But only to the baby. Once your other kids are older, they ignore them, so then Mommy has to deal with the aftermath of why strangers hand money to the baby and NOT to them. 

6) Children will pick more library books than The Hulk could carry and will then whine and complain the entire walk home because Mean Mommy who has to carry everything else AND push a stroller has made them check out and carry their own books after warning them they should ONLY take what they can CARRY. Which leads to the next point-

7) No matter how much you prepare and warn, something will go amiss and they will get angry and unfathomably, it's YOUR FAULT. I'm still not sure why, but I know there are therapist couches filled across this country and it's all because it's Mommy's Fault. Nuts.

8) You must behave and watch yourself around your children because they talk to the neighbors. 

9) Having children is directly correlated to the lowering of all social skills and acceptable and appropriate outside behavior. Use of the words "potty" and "tubby" and conversations concerning bodily functions are openly spoken about when B.C. (Before Children), you would have sooner died than discuss it over dinner. That and misnaming things and forgetting words altogether along with even the names of your children if there are multiples. And because of your awareness of your newly socially awkward status, you babble. Enough said. 

10) Lastly, the words, "STOP THAT!" Lose all meaning. 

I'm sure I have more discoveries that await me on my journey... 

Good night and good luck. 

Mommy's Shoes Were Made for Walking

First days are rough. They are new. They are crazy. 

This is a lot of firsts for us. We are "walkers" now. And a back and forth from my First Graders school has me covered in sweat and my calves aching. Not because it's far. It's ten minutes. To walk. I am coming off of a summer spent at home, doing home things and sitting on my butt apparently.

 *sigh*

So, that's ten minutes, there and back and there and back again. Forty minutes. Then when my son starts next week, it's a ten minute walk in the opposite direction and then back, then after picking up my First Grader, it's fifteen minutes to high tail it from her school to HIS to pick him up at 3:15. So, I have to do a twenty minute walk in fifteen. So, right now, I am dusting off my sneakers and searching for stretchy pants. Hopefully all this walking will be evident in my lumpy Mommy Body. My "baby" is a year old now and apparently that means she's a "toddler" and it's no longer acceptable to blame chubbiness on them. Well, it IS their fault, but regardless, it's now my responsibility to get it off... I mean, Thanksgiving is coming and I love me some stuffing...

Who knows, maybe I will end up being one of those Jogger Mommies yet... Ok, let's not get delusional now. Who am I kidding?