Family Life Update

*I went with my son on his kindergarten pumpkin patch field trip. There I learned that the straw in hay bales can slice your thumb worse than any paper cut you've ever experienced. That, and my son still an extreme introvert. His lack of good friends makes me cry inside a little more each day.


*On a lighter note, we have discovered that our 2 yo no longer wants to be cinnamon toast when he grows up, because, and I quote "If I was cinnamon toast, people would eat me all up and that wouldn't be good."


*My husband's fire pager must react to the cycles of the moon like pregnant women. It has been silent for days, but now has gone off 3 times in the last 24 hours. Seriously, how can that many people need assistance in a town of 1,500?

*I just heard my 2 yo ask my 6 yo, "Did I just pull your head off?" The 6 yo actually answered, "no," to which the 2 yo exclaimed, "because it's super glued on!"

*I have a coveted haircut appt. tomorrow and nowhere to take my son. Wonder if the girl with the magic hands would mind some entertainment during my appointment. Her salon will be destroyed by the time it is over, but I can guarantee it would be entertaining.

*I have heard so many people complain over the years about the fact that teachers are able to retire so much earlier than most working people. After the morning I had at school, I'm thinking teachers should be paid roughly $400,000 per year, with a retirement age of 39.

*It's naptime. I think I might make it another 3 hours. Maybe.

Fired

This morning while I was putting on my make-up, I was reflecting on the fact that my son is now six years old. I was thinking about what I thought he would be like at age six, what responsibilities are appropriate for this age (like he instantly became more responsible overnight...I wish), and how he is growing up so fast. I was thinking about how it won't be long before mom becomes very uncool, he won't need me as much anymore, and I will have to fight for ranking in his life.

Then I hear my TWO YEAR OLD holler, "Mama!"

"What, honey?" I respond.

And he walks by the bathroom door, "Mama, I don't need you anymore, Mom."

I guess I will clock out now. My job here is done.

Happy Birthday!

Happy 6th Birthday, buddy!

I don't know why, but six feels so OLD. Maybe it's because the baby face is all gone now, maybe it's because you're in school, maybe it's because you being six makes ME feel old. Or maybe it's just because of the the many changes that have happened in the past year.

Since you turned five...

• You have started kindergarten.
• You have played in real "team" sports like soccer and t-ball (that I had to dip into my retirement fund to pay for...).
• You have lost your first four teeth.
• You are READING!
• You gave up your precious "hand blanket" (and by 'gave up' I mean accidentally left it at grandma's for an undetermined amount of time).
• You learned to ride your bike without training wheels.
• You have learned how to play the wii.
• You were diagnosed with more allergies than we ever wanted to know about.
• You learned to tie your shoes.
• You slept in a tent outside (well, inside too, but that doesn't really count) for the entire night.
• You caught your first fish.
• You vacationed in Chicago.
• You drove grandpa's boat for the first time.

I'm sure there are others, but wow, what a year! Happy Birthday!

Breakfast Conversation

5 yo: (to little brother): What do you want to be when you grow up?

2 yo: Superman!

5 yo: I thought you wanted to be a firefighter like daddy.

2 yo: I want to be a firefighter.

5 yo: You want to be Superman and a firefighter? 'Cause I think you could do that. He could, right mom? 'Cause Superman could put out fires.

2 yo: No, I want to be cinnamon toast.

5 yo: What?!

2 yo: When I grow up, I want to be cinnamon toast. No, I want to be paper.

5 yo: (laughing uncontrollably) You can't be paper! What do you want to be when you get bigger?

2 yo: Butter! I want to be butter!

5 yo: (a bit exasperated) Mmoooommmmm....

A New Era

It's time to face it, the kids are growing up. My son used to beg for farm animals and tractors, then we hit the Bob the Builder phase, and after that everything had to be Cars. Now we've entered a new era...

GUITAR HERO.

Our household of four recently expanded into a family of five. It's nice to actually have another female in the house, and the boys are feeling as if they have a new sister. Imagine their excitement when, along with all the boxes, and a new person in the house, Guitar Hero arrived.

Not that they had a clue what it was before she came. Nevermind the fact that their hands aren't big enough to run the colored buttons, let alone coordinate the right hand with left. They'll just play four-handed.


Or five-handed. The more the merrier.

And when the game gets too hard, which happened in about 2.6 seconds, just dance!

Please, God, use super glue...

Yesterday morning we made the mistake of letting our 5 yo pick where to sit in church. He, of course, headed straight down front, and plopped down in front of some friends of ours. Our 2 yo immediately headed to their bench, which at the time I thought was a great idea. A little peace and quiet for me, a little fun for him.

Then the children's director invited all the kids to come forward for the children's story. I immediately heard my friend ask my 2 year old if he wanted to go down front with her daughter. He, of course, said yes, while I took a moment to hyperventilate.

In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not a "spur of the moment" kind of mom. We had never, up to that point, put him on display in front of the entire church of 500 to see how he would handle the children's story. And there he was, walking up to the stage without one "you sit still," "you stay with your brother," "you listen to the story," "you can't touch the drums," or "don't jump off the stage" preparatory lecture.

I eased my way to the front row -- just in case -- praying, "Please, God, super glue him to the stage."

The children's director started the story about the day her son's favorite basketball got lost. My child screamed out, "We have toys at our house!"

Then I prayed, "Please, God, super glue his mouth shut."

Apparently God was only taking one request at a time because he stopped talking, but soon began sliding ever so slowly backwards toward the drums. Then more sliding. And more. My 5 yo, who was sitting beside him, looked at me with big "what do I do?" eyes. I motioned for him to go get him, knowing that within seconds I was going to have to plow through 35 kids and tackle my screaming 2 yo who wanted to go to the drums and wasn't going to let his brother stop him.

Miracle of all miracles, the 2 yo stopped and slid back up into his spot next to his brother. Just in time to hear the end of the story - that they found the basketball in the microwave.

"IN THE MICROWAVE???" my child YELLED out, because he only has two volumes - sleeping and REALLY, REALLY LOUD.

Finally, the children's story was over. I was a little mortified, but honestly, I was laughing so hard I could hardly stop. He thought it was great. I think his next children's story will be when he's 12.

Breathe

I just had a moment of panic. Scratch that. I completely freaked out.

My 2 yo was out back in the sandbox, safely surrounded by a fence. My 5 yo was in the front yard shooting baskets.

All of the sudden I heard a horrible noise. A noise that sounded like a mixture of the neighbor's big black dogs barking and a little kid crying and moaning.

I raced to the front yard. No son.

I screamed his name. No answer.

I race to the back yard. I could breathe again.

There he was working on the fence latch. Turns out the fence latch is really hard for him to operate. It takes a long time for him to loosen it, open it, and tighten it back up again. And from inside the house it sounds like a screamin' banshee.

So Far...Practical

7:00-8:30 - Work on Lesson Plans.

8:30 - Talk mom into going on a quick run to Walmart and Target run with me. One adult for each child is my kind of trip -- well, if the kids HAVE to go.

8:30-9:30 - Shower, feed the kids, get everyone ready, gather the stuff to take back, run out the door.

9:30-11:30 - Hit Target, Walmart, and JCPenney. Endured 2 yo screaming every time we left the toy aisle. Took back shoes (both places), bought three birthday presents, tried on two outfits and decided against both of them. My husband will be so proud.

11:30 - Receive call from my boss in KC at teacher convention. He has job-altering news about our accreditation process that we have already started. I'll spare you the details, but the result is WAY MORE WORK for me.

11:45-12:45 - Lunch at Chili's. Thanks mom!

1:30 - Back home, carry sleeping 2 yo to bed, unload van.

1:45-2:15 - Clean out my closet while playing checkers with the 5 yo. I love multi-tasking. The 5 yo doesn't think it's so great.

2:15 - Hear the 2 yo screaming "Poop, mama, I have poop here!" That is NEVER good. Those words cause me to run so fast I usually pull a muscle. It means he has pooped in his bed...or grandma's bed...or on the floor...or wherever he happens to be. I found him standing up on his bed with his pull-up and jeans around his ankles. Thank God he had jeans on - at least it was all contained this time.

2:30 - Finish checkers and closet. Get out Moon Sand for the kids. Remember that it is called moon sand for a reason -- that's exactly where that stuff should stay. When toy makers produce something called "House Sand", I'll reevaluate my opinion.

2:30-3:30 - Put away laundry, sweep up moon sand, and receive another call from my boss. Sweep up more moon sand.

3:30 - Retreat to the computer for some "me time." Can't figure out what to write about, so I evaluate my day. Get a little depressed and post anyway.

Practical and Productive OR Laidback and Lazy?

I was supposed to be leaving right now for Teacher Convention in Kansas City. I was looking forward to two nights and two days of hanging out with my colleagues, eating good food, and soaking up enough educational creativity to conquer any dilemma I may face in the classroom.


Instead I have a sick husband, an iffy child who can't stop sneezing, and hours of sleep that were robbed mercilessly from me last night. Those three variables were enough to make me put my suitcase back in the closet and stay home.

Who am I kidding, the suitcase never made it out of the closet, but that's beside the point.

Now I have two days staring me in the face with absolutely no plans...other than taking care of my children, of course. So in ALL that spare time that I'm sure I will have, I have a few decisions to make. How might I spend these days?

Practical or Lazy?

I have a 'to do' list longer than any child's wish list for Santa Claus. I could clean out closets, go through the kids' winter clothes, dust, wade through the utility room, update the budget...and on and on it goes. But want I really want to do is waste away the entire two days, because, really, I wasn't going to get anything done anyway while being gone, right? I could sleep in (until my son wakes me up at SEVEN since he doesn't have school), watch movies (kid appropriate? nah...), read a book (and listen to the kids fight in the background), go shopping (with two in tow...).

It's crystal clear to me now. I should have never told grandma about the change in plans.

Counting Our Losses

SATURDAY

SUNDAY

A little blood. A little pain. A little visit from the tooth fairy to make it all better.

Admitting My Stupidity

Tonight I logged on to the internet and read the news headlines listed on my yahoo homepage.

This is what I saw:

"Dolphins earn big fines for choreographed dance"

What? I looked at it again. Did I read that right? I even looked at my friend and read it to her, following it up with, "how in the world do you fine a dolphin?"

So I clicked on the link.

Ahhhh, the Miami Dolphins.

I used to call those blond moments. Now I call those mother-with-small-children moments.

How could someone this sweet and adorable looking cover my entire bathroom floor inches deep of water all while making it sound like he was innocently playing in the bathtub?

180

It's so easy to get caught up in the little things - my water issues, the potty training fiascoes, my kids' latest terrible behavior, or how dirty the house is...


...and then something happens that makes me do a 180. It's amazing how one quick event can restructure my way of thinking and make me once again remember not to "sweat the small stuff." Cause it really is small stuff.

Friday night my husband came home from the fields and told me that he had just had his 2nd near-death experience (first one happened in 5th grade with a four wheeler). The story goes something like this: His dad was backing the wheat truck into the shed while my husband was watching so he wouldn't hit the mirrors. Apparently, one of the mirrors was in danger of decapitation, so DH instructed his father to pull forward a little bit. A "little bit" is somewhat of a relative term when it comes to large, old farm equipment. This "little bit" turned in to a significant lurch forward, somewhat like me learning to drive a stick shift. This, combined with a sloping floor, resulted in my husband being pinned at both his head and chest between the wheat truck and the metal shed doors.

Miraculously, he is okay. He has a scrape on one side of his head, a bump on the other, a cut on his ear, and a very sore chest. Sometimes we wonder if he cracked a rib, but really, for the most part, he is fine. Amazing. Even my DH, who is typically an "it's no big deal" kind of guy, admitted that he was within inches or less of being severely injured or killed.

So I'm thanking God I have a husband, and trying not to sweat the small stuff. It all pales in comparison to what might have been.

Good Grief Moments

~My 5 year old is fascinated with bottle caps. Don't ask me why, but I'm sure 10 years from now his therapist will be able to explain it. We visit the lake frequently, which assures growth of the bottle cap collection. Budweiser...Bud Light...you name it, we have it. The other night I went to a nearby Christian school to present to their board of education. Two of the board members were kind enough to carry my stack of manuals out to the van when the meeting was over. And as I opened the van door, what was there on the floor for all to see? Yep, the latest additions to the collection. Nice.


~This afternoon my 2 yo tried to refuse to take a nap. At 3:00, I finally won. And at 5:00 I went in to wake him up since it was getting late. The good news: he was already awake. The bad news: There he stood on his bed, completely naked, with his pull-up in his hand, declaring "Look, I pooped!" Sure enough. A nice pile of poop and a little puddle of pee right there on his sheets. Good grief.


~The other day in algebra class, one of my students pulled out a stack of papers to turn in. He was at least five lessons behind, which was not making me an incredibly nice teacher. Much to my delight, they all looked finished. However, he quickly let me know that he couldn't turn any of them in. Apparently, the night before, his mom told him he couldn't go anywhere until his math was complete. So he headed up to his room and filled numbers in every blank and showed her his "completed" math assignment. Then he brought them to class and told me what happened. Because he thought I would be okay with this??? So help me, if either of my boys ever try this...


One can only wonder what tomorrow will bring.

I've heard it's theraputic to write down what you're feeling...

Dear Water System People,

Two and a half years ago when you showed up at my door I thought you would be my knights in shining armor. We had just built a brand new house, and were overwhelmed with the fact that we had terrible water. It smelled nasty, tasted nasty, and made everything look nasty. You assured me that you could fix the problem for a mere $6,ooo. You were wrong.

We called you back because life was not good. You sent "technicians" that could not have been more than 18 years old and we kindly sent them back. We asked for our $6,000 to be returned to its rightful owner, and instead you promised that you now knew what we REALLY needed.

You even sent out the big boss to sweet talk us and convince us that the problem was fixable - for another $6,000. We laughed at you. But we still had disgusting water, so what choice did we have? We made you promise us that if this did not fix our problem you would come take every piece of your obnoxious equipment out of our basement and put $12,000 back in our savings account. You signed the piece of paper that agreed to this. Only you wrote that it was good for one year. WE.SHOULD.HAVE.KNOWN. You assured us that we would know in a years time if this was going to work or not. You were wrong.

The first year went fine. Of course it did, it always does. You knew it would. But now we have stinky, disgusting water again. You sent out your 18 year old technician, only now he's 21 and is the guru of technicians. He promised you could fix us up for a mere $600 dollars. At least you dropped a zero this time.

That was four weeks ago. It took you a week to get us a quote in writing (because that worked so well for us last time). It took another week to get us on the schedule. Then the day you were supposed to come we had a message that while you were loading the truck you noticed a part was missing. You would have to order it. That was 2 weeks ago.

I called you on Monday to find out what was going on. The secretary promised me that a technician would call me back. I never got a phone call or a message - nothing. So you can imagine that when I got home today and saw a "Sorry We Missed You" card on the door from you - I SAW RED.

Therefore, the purpose of this letter is to kindly inform you that we will no longer be needing your services. We have a pond out back to bathe and do laundry in, and a nice little creek beside our house that we can haul our drinking water from. The quality of water is about the same, so we should be all taken care of for about the next 60-70 years.

Sincerely,
Us

Cause I didn't know enough useless facts...

Today I discovered:



~No matter where I fill up with fuel, it will always be cheaper in the next town I arrive in.


~30 days of potty training has accomplished not a thing in the area of bladder control.


~Homemade applesauce is REALLY yummy. I still cannot believe I spent my evening making it, but I had to do SOMETHING with all those apples my son brought me from the apple orchard field trip. I had no idea I signed up for that many. I had to enlist my mother-in-law to help, cause there was no way I was tackling that much domestic work all on my own.


~I dislike visits to the dentist. Pretty sure I knew that, but it was once again confirmed.


~I'm also not overly fond of having my eyes dilated. I'm thinkin' that something about dilated eyes should be in that little book of driving safety laws.


~Thank goodness for grandma and DQ.


~Taking your kid to school 5 miles north, attending a meeting 40 miles south, heading to the dentist 60 miles north, and then to the eye doctor 40 miles south makes me question my sanity.