Wednesday, November 3, 2010

'It’s so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life' ~ Rita Rudner.

Oh la la you say...who got that dazzler?



I mean that is the prettiest engagement ring you have seen a bit, right? You will for sure show your significant other, 'honey, look at this ring, isn't it beautiful?' I mean who said it has to be an engagement ring? In this case it is, but no one said you can't get a diamond ring because you are beautiful, you clean the bathrooms in your house, and it is a Wednesday. I'm just saying. But back on point.


Simple Story:



Boy:



+


Girl:


+


+



3 or so some years

___________________________________________________

And there you have it. My little sister, the same one who used to smell my sneakers after field hockey practice because I told her it would make her live longer, is getting married.

They say they aren't going to talk 'wedding plans' until after the holidays...but notice how 'they' is a really great word in this situation, because it isn't the word, 'we,' and so that leaves me out of the equation. That is fabulous...and get used to it Eddie, for I am going to be your big sister too.
So get ready to be pushed down the stairs by me, wrapped up in a comforter. It was fun, Meghan will tell you all about it.

I also get to personally benefit from this engagement, which is really exciting. I know, you are sitting right at the end of your seat. I get to get my butt really in the groove and get this baby blubber off of me, that's right I said blubber. Pictures last a lifetime, and I am not going to be looking at them and say, 'ugh look at that chin.' , well actually 'chins.' ( I have three beautiful children, I have 3 beautiful children), ( I chant that regularly). So thanks guys for that incentive, me as well as my jeans appreciate it. So as 'we' plan for this wedding, I will be running my ass off. That's right, I said ass.

Goal: Broad St. Run, May 2011. I may die when I cross the finish line, but I will cross it, dag nab it. That's right, I said dag nab it.

Oh, and I also will be gaining a brother in law, that is also a benefit. Whoops, sorry about that Eddie.

So Congratulations! We are super excited for you! See I said 'we', instead of 'they', but I am sure they are also really excited as well.

The Happy Couple...


I giggle a little, because marriage is that much fun.


Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Greek Life

In college I was not in a sorority. Not because I all out revolted against them, but because my university did not have them. Well there was the academic fraternities, but they don't count in the slightest. I am talking about all girls, all together, typically for social interaction, sometimes even living together. You know, Elle Woods, in Legally Blonde? Typically this is the image of a college sorority, and I really don't think it is all that bad. Then lightening struck me. But no, I really don't. Had a been at a college that had sororities, you probably would have seen me during rush week, and I am pretty certain that everyone who knew me in college would whole heartedly agree.


I was told by someone during my exit interview from college that I was, 'essentially the queen of the mall, that I led the way through this social circle that dictated appearance, gatherings, and nuances. That I lived in this building and walked around hand in hand with my star soccer player boyfriend, where others wanted to come in but could only window shop.' Hello Elle Woods. Snob? Imagine my rage at the time. How dare someone say that to me, right? What would you have done? But essentially that person was telling me I had created some sort of sorority, i.e. 'mall,' and in all honesty, looking back on it, I don't really think that it was that wrong of me to do, I was 21 years old. Sure, this person totally misunderstood my heart, but I was loud, I was rowdy, and I had fun, and I am sure that is the way I came across until you got to know me, because malls have automatic doors you know, you can come and go as you please, I never felt bad or apologized for being me. I said my, 'hi, how are you's,' to every single solitary person I passed in a hall, but more on the fun nuances of christian schools at another time.


There are tons of sororities throughout life if you think about it. Right now, I am a lifelong member in Delta Mama Kappa Nu. The sorority of motherhood. Why don't you come to our mall, window shopping is definitely recommended. Membership is quite easy, by accepting a bid ,all you have to do is become completely responsible for a tiny person's life. That's it. Do you sometimes look at your kids and are taken a little off guard? I mean really look at them, typically when they all are having a meltdown at the same time, and just you just sit there staring, mind wandering, thinking, 'who decided this was ok for me to partake in?' In essence, who let me join this sorority? Rush week was fun and all, with my significant, but wowee, the hazing never stops once you are a Mama Nu.


Girls in a sorority usually have things in common, something that unifies them, a reason they chose that particular sorority over another. Other normal standards are the following: Most sororities have a color or two that represents them, and some greek letters. They volunteer and fund raise, they have social events. They have rituals and symbols and structure and organization. They have membership protocol. They have houses that are home base. They are also surrounded by criticism.


So it's quite simple. As you have seen above, being a mom puts you right into a sorority whether you want to be or not. Let me break it down real simple.


*Our greek letters are pretty self-explanatory, although they aren't greek, but they should be; MOM


* Our colors do not require us to go out to the store and buy something new, how cost efficient, right? It's homemade. It's our children's bodily fluid. That yummy greenish brownish shade that comes only from poop, snot, vomit, spit up, dried urine, slobber.


*Volunteer, Fundraising, Planning and Attending Social Events.
Is this not a given? Seriously. As a mom, I tell you, I end up volunteering for more then I should be with three kids, but you just do it because you do it. Not even because it is the thing to do per se, you do it because the preschool kids need one large can of pumpkin to make their pumpkin bread. You can't make pumpkin bread without the pumpkin!

And sometimes don't you just wish the fundraising was for you ,and for a sponsored day at the spa? Right. We fund raise for kids teams, their class, their friends mothers brothers sister who needs new teeth. We do it with such fervor that is almost is overwhelming. I mean once you start getting a positive response, you just go with it, like its a game or a challenge. I will sell the most wrapping paper!

And social events. I am not complaining or saying that all social events are just terrible. But the number of parties that your children will attend in a year is just obscene when you think about it. And you go and they go because they are your children's friends, and sometimes even your friends, and they came to your kids party. It's cyclical like that. In the previous case, you attend to provide moral support for your friend, to help set up and clean up, to play bouncer, because let's face it, 20 four year olds wreaking havoc can make your hair stand on end if you had to forgo it alone. But the kids love it all, and that, in the end is why we do it.

My favorite social events in this sorority are get togethers that we say are play dates for the kids, but they are really for us. And when you have kids the same age it is great. You open the playroom door, proclaim, 'have at it, and don't tattle tale unless someone is being physically harmed by someone else to the point that there might be blood on the carpet or a broken bone.'

And then we get to to sit and drink our coffee and eat something that consists of more than a handful of dry cereal for breakfast. It's lovely.

*Rituals. Really every member of the Mama Nu have their own entity in their own clan. But when you really compare, almost every Mom is doing the same thing as you are in those high traffic times, as I like to refer to them as. We get up in the morning, there is diaper change, peeing, telling them to get their pajamas off 68 times, peeking at where the shirt tag is to make sure the shirt is on the right way before they stick their arms in because god forbid they get in on backwards and have to take it off and put it on again, this is just not feasible. There is the search for a hair brush, a little girl whining about knots, toothpaste on shirts to have to go and find another one or pretend you just don't see it. There is another diaper change thanks to the morning poop, daily, talk about rituals. There is breakfast, and milk and cereal rings on left on the table. All of this and more are typically go on at other high traffic times of the day that being dinner time, and bed time. We are all performing our rituals at the same time, becoming very ritualistic. You follow?

* Symbols. The ultimate symbol of Mama Nu is of course the mini van. You see a mini van nine times out of 10, there is a Mama Nu driving it. I cannot clearly fathom why on earth anyone other than a Mama Nu might need to be cruising around in one, well I am sure there are exceptions, but you know. Another is a home that is cluttered with laundry, small toys, juice boxes, and fruit snack wrappers.

* Structure and Organization. These are the two words we are constantly chasing after as Mama Nu's. Who doesn't want a set bed time, who doesn't want their closets cleaned? Who doesn't want a kid who always remembers to say please and thank you, and puts the toilet seat down gently and not slamming it down with all his might? There are moments of shining glory where you get to the bottom of that dirty laundry pile, but quickly someone spills a whole glass of chocolate milk down the front of them. There are those moments when you are yelling, 'Where are you, we have to go!' And they answer, 'Waiting for you!' And there they are by the front door, smiling, with their coats on, and shoes on the right feet. It is amazing what they can achieve when a Mama Nu keeps her eyes set on the prize, and that being raising functional human beings.

* And as a Mama Nu, we don't have a set house to gather, every one's house is the sorority house. And they all look the similar. Sticky floors, finger prints on windows, cats walking across the kitchen table, that might just be my home, whoops, a toilet unflushed, and a pile of little kid clothes set in such a way that it looks as though they just stepped right out, that's weird right? Shoes, socks, pants, underwear, one on top of the other, like the child evaporated. But they all look busy, right? That is a Mama Nu house. There is always something to watch to entertain you, or do to entertain you. Most importantly in a Mama Nu house you feel comfortable, not like a toddler in a china store.

*And Mama Nu's are typically always surrounded by some one's criticism. How we discipline, when we discipline, when we don't. What school our kids go to and where they don't go. What we feed our children and what we don't. And how many glasses of wine we drink at the end of a hard day. It could be rough if you let it.

And that is where another experienced Mama Nu steps in and says, 'there is no right or wrong way, what works for you is what works for your family, if your heart is in the right place, it will all come together.' There is no set feeding time, napping time, bed time, play time, silly time, learning time, and that is what is awesome about being in this sorority. You can stay in your comfy clothes all day long, and it's ok, this sorority is also a tough one, filled with responsibilities, if you didn't get your mascara on today, we forgive you. But isn't it fun to have the camaraderie?

Most recently I have seen a bunch of brand new Mama Nu's join the sorority and have loved to watch other members huddle around them and make sure their hazing is a little bit easier then their own. That's sisterhood.

And to my darling husband...if you are wondering why the socks aren't organized, it's not because I don't love you, it's because I am part of a sorority with a lot of expectations, wiggle your toes a little and be thankful that even if it took me 30 minutes to find a matching pair, at least I did it, and found outfits for all my kids for the day, at the same time. Yeah Mama Nu!

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Because I drank too much coffee today.


So wow. It's been awhile since I blogged. I am going to fully admit that three kids will do that to a girl, and I am losing my mojo when it comes to super multitasking anything other then wiping a runny nose and remembering not to use it right after on the baby's butt, or vice versa. Right now the babe is asleep. So I have a moment to ramble. And it is just that a moment, because this kids snoozes are completely unpredictable. That's fun,right?I am also waiting presently for the stain on the carpet that I sprayed cleaner into to be evaporated. Seems kind of crazy to me. But the stain is from Stanley, who must have gotten into something that he wasn't supposed to, and decided it might be nice to barf on my floor. How about the hardwood pal, the bathroom tile? Nope, as is such with my chaotic life, right on track, he barfed on the carpet, and that is no surprise to me. So I suppose we will be investing in some carpet cleaner today. That's fun.

To sum it up real quick, you haven't really been missing much. My house is pretty messy these days. I again, fully admit, I cannot keep up, so if anyone wants to invest in a cleaning lady and a home organizer for me for my upcoming birthday, that would be great,I mean, I wouldn't even try to stop you. I just cannot promise you that it will look the same 6 months later. I'm busy, man. And I really want my carpets cleaned. I am staring at them right now, the juice box stains...ugh. Maybe the next house I live in will have all hardwood floors. Then you could really see the animal hair, I don't know.

I was entranced with those miners in Chile. I seriously cried when the first one was coming up and they did that shot of his kid? I waited up to see that, paralyzed with fear that something bad was going to happen on live television and they would be stuck down there forever, with this video camera. That would have been terrible, so I peered at the television gripping my blanket praying for everything to go right, and it did, and they all came out, alive and well. Could you just imagine? I put myself right down in that hole with them and was panicking. I can't even stay in my house for one full day let alone three months underground with a bunch of smelly men. I continued to watch on mute each time Jacob woke up throughout the night counting down the numbers, engrossed in each of their stories. I could spew out at any given moment to anyone the reason for the order, how many capsules were made; 3 by the way, how big they were; a man's shoulder width wide, and how they survived down there, what they ate, etc. And I was filled with so much respect for the rescue men who volunteered to go down there to be in charge in this hole, and be the last one's up. Could you imagine if this was your husband? I would have committed him the psych ward at the mere suggestion, so there wouldn't have been even a chance of him going down there anyway.

My children are obsessed with these small 'guys,' as Ethan calls them. They are those action sized figurines, and you can get them anywhere, the Disney Princesses at the Disney Store, the Toy Story little plastic figurines, sometimes little people are included, and most definitely the characters you would get in a Happy Meal. Anything really, as long as they are typical not taller then let's say 3 inches. They play with them for hours. No joke. You would think that I could get rid of all of their other toys and let them have only these, but the clever little nuggets they are, they incorporate them into everything. The kitchen set? They refer to it as Giant Kitchen Land, and the people live in the microwave, oven, the sink is the pool. Ethan, however, in a thing that boys do twist, obsesses with lining them up. Wants them to have order. And this organization can happen anywhere, kitchen table, edge of bathtub, arm rest in the van, window sill,it happens everywhere. And the voices he makes them all talk in? I sit on the steps and listen to them play. I can't let them see me because then it would stop because of embarrassment, but none the less, it is very entertaining to me. I asked them yesterday when they were in the basement playing, 'guys,' if they wanted to come up and play with me, and they responded, 'nah, maybe later!' What!?!? Ethan now wants Santa to bring him, 'superhero guys,' since we are beginning to enter into this fascination with superheroes. And the best part about these guys is stepping on them. Nothing like muffling obscenities under your breathe as you attempt to get Buzz Lightyear's wing out from under your big toe nail.


I don't know, should I be concerned? Have I passed on my obsessive gene? The one where I take all my pretty things for a given season and arrange them just so? Speaking of. I have this little half wall that divides my main floor into two, and I want to clutter it with some fancy phrases or something of the sort....like this one...I love it.

From Etsy of course, it's a good thing I am on the tightest of budgets because I could go crazy on that site. Oh, I think that print would look just perfect in my house.

And then there is the chunkiest nugget of the three, our little plump raisinet. I could call him names like this all day, because all he does is smile at me. I race around at close to 100 miles an hour each day to make members of this troop content, and I turn and look at him and he looks at me with this huge grin, and the grin says, 'you are the most amazing person in the whole world!' Sure he is probably just thinking, 'hey look, there goes that crazed woman again, let's see how many times she has to tell Kendall to find her shoes today, I got my bet in at 52.' But regardless, I pretend he says the former, and scoop him up and thank him with kisses. Because babies can't talk, and some days, that is just awesome.


So there you have it, nothing much going on. We now go to like 48 birthday parties for children a week. School is cool like that, and so therefore I have even less time, but wait until you see what I came up with for an idea for Kendall's birthday party! See this is my problem, random thoughts at inappropriate times, I should be doing laundry, not dreaming of a birthday party in February!


Have a great fall weekend. I will surely blog tomorrow. I stored up a lot to say. Imagine what all the wives of those miners had to say to their husbands. That is like 3 whole months to fill someone in on, I would be talking for 8 days straight...'And then on Monday, the 18th of August, the baby took a 4 hour nap, and I wondered, should I wake him...'because I am that girl.

Friday, September 24, 2010

To My California Girls...

To Ellie, my snugglishcious Victoria, Noell, & Joscelin:


FYI: I love this picture of the four of you...so loving...I think I might ask the Mrs. to frame it and put it near my corner of the couch!

Followed by a picture of me. LOOK! Remember me, girls?




Hello Ladies! Things are going well here. They still bathe me when I smell and I get to run around with the kids all day long. The boy here, he likes to wrestle and so that is something I enjoy doing now. Although he likes to sneak attack me when I am sleeping, not so enjoyable. They give me a new bone when I lose mine or devour mine. The Mrs. says that my behavior is improving. I don't run out the door to escape down the block to see my friends anymore. I simply just ask, and she takes me. Imagine that. She told me there was no need to run like that, but goodness do you know how good it feels to run like that sometimes? Too many pats on the bottom with her flip flop made me stop. She tells me it is too much for her to go running all over the neighborhood with the newborn in her arms and the little ones racing all over. Hey, all I want to do is socialize. Maybe we can reach some agreement. Playdates? Everyone else in this house gets one.

I have some good friends. Right next door is my girlfriend, Maddie, she is this little fluffy thing...so cute. She comes after me when I try to run away. I can't resist her beauty so I come right back. She has this little brother Chase, he is a funny little dog, but loves to run in circles like me. There is this giant Golden Doodle, Ellie, HaHa, isn't that funny Ellie? Anyway. She is a crazy beast who also likes to run out the front door without permission, and she always comes here to my stoop! Bunkley lives across the street with Bella. Bunk is a big guy who typically lazes around, no matter how hard I try and get him up to play, and Bella is a little Yorkie. Then there is LugNut. The biggest beast of all. He is an American Bulldog with the head the size of a soccer ball. They all laugh at us when we play together, but he is the greatest.

Lily, the cat, continues to pretend not to like me. However, she lets me get close enough to her to get a quick sniff. And sometimes she lets me sleep on the opposite end of the same couch as her.

They let me drive with them in the van alot. I love to stick my head out the window. We go to pick up the girl at school, or to the farm, and to visit relatives. I have now taken to running around with the donkeys when we visit the farm. They hate me nipping at their legs, but it's all in good fun.

There is the new baby. Often times I try to snuggle up to the thing, or sit on his legs when he is lying on the floor. Someone has to watch him. The Mrs. says something about it being her third child, she is less stressed. Uh, hello!?!?! He's an infant. Oh she is just crazy sometimes.

I still snore in their bed. She tries to get me to stay in the boys room, but he moves around too much. Something about my snoring being too loud, I don't know.

So I hear you are really moving. WOW! Wasn't that why I moved to this nut house in the first place? But it's been so long, I am sure you can't believe you are actually going! She had to show me the picture of the house for me to admit it was true. I love it.

I hear California is really nice. I hear the weather is just lovely. I hear there are some dog parks there. Actual places where dogs can run free with other dogs. I hear there are palm trees. Do you know how awesome it would be to pee on a palm tree? I hear they put dogs in real clothes there. Please don't do that to Charles, he would be humiliated.

Maybe you can come and see me or I can come and see you before the big move. But I am sure you are super duper busy, so if not, Have a Super Fun Time! I am sure you will meet lots and lots of friends, no worries. You have each other anyways, who else are you able to fight with and sit at the dinner table with every night, and be loved unconditionally? That's a sisterly bond you've got, love it up. What you are doing is super courageous! And don't you worry about me, I am spoiled silly here.

Have your Mama send the Mrs. your new address, she has some pictures of me to give to you. Four shots, one for each of you, so you never ever forget Stan the Man.

When you come back here, to visit, make sure you come and see me.

And just so you know, anytime you want me to come for a visit...



My bag is packed! I can get up and grab a flight at a moments notice!

Love you...and sending you lots of slobbery licks,

Stanley

P.S. Send Charles my love.

**** As a side note, a little about this deliciously cute family, well besides Trip, because referring to him as deliciously cute is just plain weird. Because for those of you who don't know the back story, you might be like who are these girls and why is Stanley writing to them?

These are our friends, the Forgengs. Jess and Trip are the parents, of those four little girls, who we know from college. They, obviously, are moving to California, Culver City to be exact. We inherited Stanley from them because there was no way they could take 4 girls and two dogs across the country to start pretty much anew. We volunteered to take the guy off their hands last year, since we were in the market for a dog, and not just any darn dog. However, these girls are extremely fond of Stanley, I mean how can you resist him, so keeping in contact is a must, and I will use the blog to do so every now and then for them.

They are moving to the LA area to build churches in a surprisingly unfed culture. I mean you see LA and you imagine it to be very worldly, but to actually here about the teeny tiny number of christian churches is disheartening and disappointing. As of last I understood, they are going to be part of this church, http://www.paradox.la/, go ahead and visit it.

Having Stanley in our home wonderfully leaves us easily connected to them, and is a daily reminder to pray for them! Knowing, that this move, although exciting, is not going to be easy.

Remember them, if you can, in your prayers. What an awesome thing they are doing!

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Sir Chunky

So on the first day of preschool, since we were not busy enough that day already, we had a check up for Jacob. This was the old 4 monther.



And as you get to the third one, it becomes routine, you know what shots they are going to get, you know the milestones they are supposed to be reaching, you know the questions the doctor is going to ask, and you know what homework they are going to send you home with. The poor third child.

He was 17.5 pounds, a certified heifer.

His length, I can't quite remember, I just heard the doctor saying, 'yeah, he is right over the 100th percentile in that one.' Again, sympathizing with Shaq's mother.

And the head circumference? That was in the 40th percentile. That one made me perk up and turn the ears at full attention. Now what is that all about? Both of my other children have heads the size of large pumpkins, much like their mother, and always were into the 80, 90th percentile on head size. They teetered right on that line of whether or not to get it scanned, and I am all, 'have you looked at my head, do you see the size of this sucker? It doesn't fit in most hats.' It's a real shame I tell you. E never fit into any hats for his age group, and in fact is presently fitting into a bike helmet that is made for 8 year old boys. I marched right on home and put a 3-6 month old sized hat on his head and it slipped a little down to his eyebrows. Imagine my elation! We have a normal noggin!!! I lifted him up and twirled him in the air like he had just pooped gold into his diaper. It's so wonderful, you have no idea unless you have a large head.

They then send you home at the 4 month visit with permission to introduce solids, if you think your little baby is ready. This kid would sit down and eat a steak dinner if you offered it to him. They say do just rice for 4 days, then introduce a fruit, yada, yada, yada. We had the applesauce mixed in there at the first sit down and we haven't looked back. He loves food. He smiles the entire time I am feeding him like it is the best invention in the world. Food. Imagine that. He is eating the veggies and the fruit like it is going out of style. He houses. I have never seen anything like it. I am going to have to put a padlock on the pantry. If I had a pantry. Someday I might, and when this offensive lineman walks in the house, we secure that sucker up.

The first supper.

So this child was born to eat. As if him taking to the boob in his first 5 minutes of life were not indication enough, this intense gluttony over rice and summer squash and peaches pretty much lays it all out there.

But oh I love this little man. I chomp on his cheeks any spare moment I get. I tell you that all the time, but they are so cute and saggy, oh I have to go and kiss them right now.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

B is for Busy

The Student

You know someone could have warned me. Someone could have said, 'yeah you think you're busy now, wait until one of them starts school.' Because I tell you, week one down of just preschool and we ran like ravaged beasts.If Kendall heard me call it 'just' preschool she would have a cow right in front of me, but I say it because we haven't even entered into the full realm of my children's education and I am spinning.

Ethan and the student. Apparently he does not do mornings either.

My morning begins with the slamming down of the toilet seat. My darling boy taking his first leak of the day is my shot gun sound to start the race, and it is non stop from this point on. I am not a morning person, which you may have gathered. And so as a result, I enjoy a leisurely prelude into the day. A nice snuggle on the bed watching the morning news and toons, while sipping on coffee. I know, right? It sounds just splendid. I have now embarked on a journey that will take 20 plus years until it is complete. Of course you get the summers off, but something tells me that once you are on a schedule, you are on a schedule. And it is go time, giddy up, and buckle up Mama.

I race up and down and everywhere to get them ready. Because monkey see, monkey do. I cannot for the life of me explain to Ethan that we are simply dropping the student at school and coming right back home. He can stay in his jammies, he can wait to eat a nice breakfast until we get back. We will be returning within 15 minutes. Nope, no way, not gonna fly for E. So as I toss an outfit to the student arguing with her that she can choose to wear whatever she wants to wear on the other 4 days of the week, I choose what she wears to school, I am changing a baby, and digging for the 'right,' undies that Ethan wants to wear on that particular day. This kid has an agenda, and if he plans to wear Buzz Light Year on his butt that day, well than that is how it is going to be. I mean there are battles that I choose to take on, but when you are trying to get 3 ready in a set amount of time, he gets to leave his streaks on Buzz.

I then get to try and find the student's brush which is left somewhere with some pile of Barbies, while holding a bottle to the mouth and dumping cereal in a bowl as I fly past. I then beg of the student to stay clean as she shovels in the cereal dripping milk all along the way. We then get the backpack, hope that the lip gloss is in its rightful spot, because god forbid we go to school without the right accessories to reapply with. And the onslaught of just what shoes to wear begins. The ones that were fine yesterday pinch her pinky toe, and the ones that match her outfit make her feet slippery with sweat, and you just can't run properly and fast with sweaty feet. The ones that she wore all summer just don't feel right, and the ones she wants to wear resemble banana peels with high heels attached, and that is just not how we roll, much thanks to Molly and Brynn.

And out the door. Putting baby in car seat while attempting to scold Stanley who is desperately trying to escape to go with us. And he has. And by the grace of God he runs into the van and not up the street to visit his friends and pee on their bushes. Then the argument of who is sitting where. Really? But you know you remember doing this. I used to always want the middle seat in the backseat and would inflict bodily harm if someone threatened to whine to our mom about how they never got to sit there.

And the marathon is still going. Because upon our arrival Ethan is grabbing at anything his grubby little hands can get a hold of on the way out of the van and asking, 'Mommy, I bring this with me?' I swear he thinks that the van is gonna blow sometime after we exit it, and he needs to take things he just might miss. Presently it is a catalog with Halloween costumes in it. I don't know. I can't explain how his mind works. Just smile and nod when what you really want to do is raise an eyebrow at his strange ways. Tick Tick Tick goes the clock. And Kendall is stuck behind him in the van screaming to get out. Hair.Flying.Everywhere. So now we get to redo the hair.

At this point I just want to scream, 'A Drop Off Lane would be a real novel idea!!!' Because every mom that drops of their child there has more then just this child and we all parade in and out; strollers, carriers, screaming toddlers, so on and so forth. It's a production that could be resolved in 2 seconds.

So I literally blink and it is time to pick her up. And I am moving Hector the Collector along. I have to make sure Jake is fed, changed, etc, and again wrestle Stanley all to be there on time. Because I won't be that Mom. I won't be the Mom who is late and picks up their lonesome child who is just standing there grief stricken with their teacher. Nothing against that Mom, it is going to happen at some point this year, but just not in the beginning when you are one of the new students and families at this preschool. Probably not kosher.

So you race in all the while E complaining his legs hurt and he just can't walk another step. Again...drop off/pick up lane. I'm just saying. So you try and hold it together because you are in public, but what you really want to say or I don't know, perhaps shout is, 'Ethan, if you don't move it, the pain in those legs is gonna be nothin' in comparison to what your fanny is going to experience!'

And there she is! The student!

On the first day Andy and I could not wait to hear what she had to say about it, however, the student typically has her own agenda, and on this day she proclaims once we are in the van, 'Please don't ask me lots of questions Mommy about school.' Who made this child? But once the monster was fed she 'shared' her school experience with her brother and I, secondhand I suppose, oh and her Daddy who was on speaker phone and she didn't know.

Apparently she was the counter for the day and there is 17, 30 kids in her class. I am going to go with the first number. And she is the newest one in the class. There is also a girl named Jasmine in her class and she wished that was her name. They forgot to feed the gerbils, and they had goldfish for snack again.

That night we had the Back to School Feast. The student ordered tacos for the menu, and we just celebrated the ensuing chaos in my life and to future college tuition. I asked the student to list three things for me she wanted to learn this year at school, and on the last day, we will read it to see if it was accomplished.

1. Be a better painter
2. How to do tattoos on my hand
3. Write my name

I don't know. It's interesting, right? At least she has some priorities?

Back to School Feast Set Up, Pre Taco Explosion




On the night before the second day of school we get home a little later then bedtime and the student was tired so she was all emotional. And as Andy is putting her to bed, he says, 'Kendall, if you cannot get yourself together and asleep, you will either not be able to go to school the next day, or not stay out late for birthday parties.' And she replies in what will surely be an Oscar winning performance, sobbing, mind you, 'What's the use in going to school? They don't even teach me how to read!!!!' Apparently someone has set the bar a little to high for preschool.

Friday, August 27, 2010

'Today was good. Today was fun. Tomorrow is another one' ~Dr. Suess


So summer.
As much as a love it, I am starting to crave a regular schedule.
I am almost tired of the kids running out the door to play before I am even dressed. 3 months later it is still quite embarrassing to be running outside after a dog or someone at 8 a.m. braless, teeth not brushed, and smelly. You think I might have learned my lesson and will get up and get myself dressed upon rising. Nope. And by the time it happens I am cursing my way out the door because I always run into someone. Quite typically someone dressed all nice, smelling all pretty on their way to work. And here I am barefoot with a baby just in a diaper draped in my arms, coffee breath, boobs down to my belly button, running after my dumb dog. It's awesome. I am a terrible mother that way. I like to laze in the mornings, I have 3 small children, I don't get what I want in regards to that, and promptly upon my arrival back through the front door, I am on my way up the stairs to throw on something, that will get snot, pee, popsicle drool, and what not all over it, kissing my sweet summer morning away.

The darling oldest starts preschool in September. We can all hardly wait, sort of. Kendall is beyond excited, I am excited for her, and that's it. This child needs school like cereal needs milk. You can eat it plain, but it is much better with it. She would be fine going to kindergarten without it, but is much better for going to it. And it's simple like that. She needs a place that is special Kendall time that only Kendall goes to and not the boys. She needs a place where she is not the boss. And she needs a place to give her that final bump out of little girl stage to just girl stage. It's so sad. E, Jake, and I are going to sit in the parking lot and cry the first day. Well I will cry over Kendall, they will cry because their crazy mom is keeping them pent up in the van for 3 hours.I am going to beg Andy to stay home on this day so that he can take her. I won't be able to bear it. As much as I am ready for it, was she not my baby not to long ago?

We have been so busy this summer I feel as though it really didn't happen. I know it was hot out, man was it hot out, but I feel like I need to go and roll around in the sand or something and eat a few more ice cream cones on the front steps with the kids.

Last weekend we went to our annual end of summer event. And though it is really in the middle of August, once that weekend goes by, Labor Day is here. This year it becomes a bit more meaningful as Kendall goes to school, and I am left with my little men. Can you tell I am for sure going to be a blubbering mess? It is just preschool, but it is away from the nest. Envision the mother bird hanging on to the baby birds little leg it is flapping away to get free, the mother bird is me. It's pitiful.

I look at the pictures of last weekend and I am like, what the heck!?!?! She looks older. They all grew to fast this summer. I mean Ethan decided he was going to ride a pony and carnival rides, what is that about? I mean Jacob is sitting in a Bumbo, I will say it again, I can't believe it. They are adults now. Ok, so maybe not. But now am 100% convinced that with the good Lord willing, Jacob is not my last. I love babies. I love to smell them, cuddle them, watch them, its fascinating. Not that I am about to go and jump in the sack. I am no fool. We shall wait. Practice being chaste for a few years. Just kidding babe, we are not Trudie Styler and Sting, and I don't believe them anyway. But you know, get them all ready for the world, and then pop out another one that I can tremendously spoil because he or she is the last one.

But I am supposed to be talking about the summer, no wonder it went right by me, I am thinking about things other than the season.

So we were off to the Grange Fair. My kids love it. Kendall has this love for animals like I do. It's this deep sympathetic connection, that some people think is crazy as anything. We even think that this is cute:

I mean he us just so gross that he is cute because you feel bad for him, because no one really likes a pig, unless of course it is Wilbur from Charlotte's Web, but even he grows up to look like this. And we eat pork. ewww...they roll around in poop.
That people is a connection. I have yet to tell her that the meat she eats is from the animals she loves to see at the fair, this would shatter her world.

So we walk along taking in the smell of manure and funnel cake. We comment on the best in show, and get real up close with them...

(Why are my children staring at the camera like they are some scary Amish kids in horror movie, I don't know, this pic sends me those vibes, I had to share.)

Sometimes they got a little too close. Here is Mr. Goat just before he nipped Kendall's shirt, to which she replied, thankfully, 'that's just what goats do, they like to eat clothes.' With some nervous laugh I have never heard before.


Kendall sat and watched the sheep show. You get this girl near anything that resembles a beauty pageant and she will sit. I think she was probably sitting there thinking, so when is the formal wear segment coming?



We made her wait off any of the carnival rides until it was dark. It's more fun that way with all the lights, too bad kid. So we took a pony ride, and like every time, we ask E if he would want to do it. Low and behold, he said yes!I turned and said, 'Wait, What?!?, he said yes!?!?' I am so inclined to him saying, 'nah,' that the change almost sounded like he was speaking german. We could not believe it. And he did it with a smile on his face...my baby!



We then decided it was dark enough to do carnival rides, and again offer it up to E. And he said yes! Ethan went on carnival rides. He took the tickets from his Pop's hands and he went on rides. Who is this child and where is my sissy? Gone. I tell you. He is growing up and I can hardly stand it. He plays tee ball and he is good, he takes the bat and he throws it after he has hit the ball because that is what the 'guys,' do.



This summer Ethan became a little boy, not a Mama's boy. Time to smother the next one.



So summer. Thanks for the sunny days. Next time you come around we are going to the beach, please be as nice as you were this year.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Mommyhead

And the boy.

This one is a bit tricky because Ethan has quickly become the in house comedian. So there are lots of fine lines. Like when is it name calling and teasing as opposed to just being silly? When is it lying and not telling the truth or just being goofy to make me laugh? And do I tell him to stop when it is annoying me, but clearly everyone else thinks he is hilarious? I have said it before this child is going to be the one setting the chickens free in the high school as a senior prank. This is the child I will sit and listen about at parent/teacher conferences as the boy who is intelligent, but needs to stay focused and apply himself because under arm fart noises will get him nowhere in life.

Three year old humor is a hard one because it consists mostly of, 'potty talk,' and repetitiveness, because if they laugh at it once, sure,they will laugh it on the 49th time also.

Even when he is fighting back with his sister he attempts to be funny. Example,'Dendall I not like you right now because your datitude smells like Baby Jacob's poopy diaper! Ha Ha, you so mean you smell like poopy diapers!' You know you smiled. But I am the mother, and even though Kendall's attitude, does in fact stink, we don't use potty talk. See that fine line?

Right now he refers to Andy and I as Stinky Pete when we ask him to do something. This is a character from Toy Story 2 if you live in a cave. This character got his name because he lives in his store packaging and he farts in it. Very funny to E. So essentially he is referring to us as a fart box. 'E will you come and take your clothes to the laundry mountain?' 'Ok Stinky Pete.'

He also thinks it is just hilarious to do this:
'Hey Mommy!'
'What E?'
'Gotcha!'
And he will laugh incessantly and do it over and over again.
He is getting a little more creative now:
'Hey Mommy, Stanley pooped on the floor!'
'What!?!?! Where!?!?!'
'Gotcha!'
Again this is lying, not telling the truth; fine line.

Or he will say;
'Oh No Mommy, you have something on your behind, I'll get it!'
And then he swats my behind, while sceaming, 'HaHa, Gotcha!

Everything is also 'something-head.' Now he has gotten that he cannot say, Poopyhead or Farthead, after a few encounters with the wooden spoon. Now he resorts to other names, like, Sillyhead, or IceCreamhead. They aren't exactly mean, but they are name calling, but they can be funny. It's a mess of confusion. 'E please pass me the salt.' 'Ok Butterhead.' He acts like he is going to say butt, starting out nice and slow, and then adder the -erhead, real fast when I am ready to say something. And now that is just so funny to Kendall.

Ethan will also try some things out that others say that he thinks are funny. I am not going to mention any names as to implicate someone, however, Ethan recently has been trying out the word 'Weirdo.' And I don't like that. You can call someone a sillyhead, but not a weirdo. I am the mom, these are my rules. So he calls Kendall a weirdo, and I say, 'E, I do not like that word, you don't call people that.' To which he says, 'Daddy says that.' To which I say, well it is not nice and I will tell Daddy that too, it is not nice to say that.' And I get back, 'Yeah, Daddy is a weirdo for saying that.' E!!!!!

E is also a story teller and can think of excuses on the drop of a dime. One day I am cleaning up his room after he had been in there and see a wet spot on the floor. 'Uh, Ethan, you want to tell me who peed on your floor?' To which he replies, 'Uh, not me.' Kendall chimes in, 'Not me neither!' I ask, 'then who did?' And Ethan replies, 'Baby Jacob!' I say, 'Ethan Baby Jacob has been in my room all morning, if I find out you are lying, you are going to be on punishment.' And I get a sweet, 'Ok Mommy.' I go on, assuming that he is riddled with guilt for lying, and will tell me soon enough, this is what Kendall does. So then I find the wet clothes. 'Uh E, if you didn't do it why are your pajamas and undies all wet here on the floor?' Without even missing a beat, 'Well when Baby Jacob was peeing I held them out there to block his pee!' What in the world? Again, 'that is impossible Ethan, Baby Jacob is in my room, if you are lying, you are in even more trouble.' And he replies, 'well Mommy his pee shoots real far!' So I just later read him a story about the Bernstein Bears and lying because they have a story about every life lesson, and tell him that I know he was lying and I am not happy and there is going to be punishment. He says, 'I sorry Mommyhead.'

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

On the High Horse

So my children are growing, imagine that. Growing into little people with little personalities. Ok, so not so much Jacob. He is charming and all, but what he really likes to do is drool, poop in his pants, and stay awake all the time, this does not really count as personality development. He is a pretty mellow fellow, easy to please, and kind of just goes with the flow. Is this because he is the third child or that he is just about 4 months? I don't know, I suppose we will find out in about a year or so. I would never ever say it out loud, but does typing count? My three babies have been pretty easy to please on a whole. All issues that come up I make it my everlasting purpose on this earth to stay focused on nothing else but this sole issue until it is solved. We may not have clean underwear for a few days, but dag nabbit, I am going to get the baby to stop crying all the time, and he stopped, and I promptly did the laundry, but oh Lordy he is a cute little thing. I could just sit and smile at him all day. Ok, and so sometimes, I will admit it, half the day I do do this, or dream about doing this.


Wouldn't you want to come over and gnaw on those cheeks too? And what is this about growing so fast. Sitting in a Bumbo? This is just insanity. Wasn't he just coming out of me? In 2 weeks he will be eating cereal and fruits. Not fair.

So the personalities I am referencing in this post are the darling older children. Goodness parenting is hard, right? I mean because now I have to decide between if it is something that they are doing because that is just what they do, or if they are doing it to annoy me to the point that I want to sky rocket out the side window. How do I encourage a born leader as she asserts her assertiveness but at the same time try and explain to her that not everyone wants to listen to her and do what she wants to do all the time? That if she doesn't stop trying to get everyone in the neighborhood to be characters in some play she has made when they clearly do not want to, and thus she is upsetting them, then she will need to go inside.


With Kendall, I have now attempted to take a back seat with some issues. This is two fold. One, I am trying to get her to solve her own problems. And then there are some issues that just exacerbate me so I just let her work it out, so that I don't send her sky rocketing out of the side window.


Kendall is at a point right now of pointing out constantly what is just and unjust to her little mind. She is also all about making the profound statements that are profound, I suppose ,to a 4 year old. Today she told me with absolute seriousness on her face, 'uh Mommy, this house is bigger then us.' Thanks Kendall. 'And do you know why?' Why's that? 'Because we are people that is why, and people are smaller then houses.' Deep, right? To be 4, and to have these be the things that run through your mind must be just wonderful. And then she walks away from me with a look on her face that mimics Aristotle's.


Kendall has also recently taken her big sister role quite seriously. I mean any chance to be in charge, this girl is all over it. Some recent conversations I have overheard between her and Ethan are as follows:
(while brushing teeth)
K: Hey E, you should spend some more time on your bottom row.
E: Can I use your bubble gum toothpaste Dendall?
K: Ok, then I will show you how to floss, and swish this stuff around in your mouth.
a few minutes after brushing-
K: E, the dentist told me it is important to floss with this string and to rinse with this stuff, here.
K: Now, swish it and spit it out, it's poison, and can't touch your belly.
E: WHAT!?!? I not want that Dendall.
K: Well then if you don't your teeth will fall out. And you know, I don't want your teeth to fall out.
E: Me neither.
K: Because if your teeth fall out, everyone will laugh at me 'cause I have the brother with no teeth.

It's always good to hear where her concerns really are.

And over snack time:
K: E, when you chew like that it makes me sick, chew with your mouth closed, like this.
E: But Dendall, you have crumbs coming out of your lips.
K: Yes, but my mouth is closed, and that is minding manners.

I am going to go ahead and say that most first born girls are really like this. I am constantly reminding her that I am the mother. Like when Ethan is getting mad at her and so she tells him, 'E, if you can't get it together, you are going to have to go upstairs to your room and get it together because I have had it.'

But she is going to preschool this year. And this will do her wonderfully. Just yesterday she said to me, 'So uh, school starts in 2 weeks, are you guys gonna get me a school bag or something, it is coming fast you know? What do you put in those things anyway, like your toys and stuff you might miss and some make up?' Priorities.

Monday, August 2, 2010

"Don't grow up too quickly, lest you forget how much you love the beach."



So I love the beach. I think if I could choose to place a house anywhere it would be on the beach. Ok, so maybe not right squat on the beach, because then you have to worry about beach erosion and your house going right along with it, and waves crashing through your windows, and jelly fish on your kitchen floor. But most definitely ocean front. I want my bedroom to have a wall of windows facing the ocean and the sunrise, or sunset, but I really don't want to live in California, I heard somewhere that is going to fall into the ocean someday, and I don't exactly want to live in the ocean, just be able to look at it and hear it. I really don't think that is asking too much.

I love the beach in all weather, in all seasons. I love salt water effected hair, sand in my ear canals, and lying in bed at night still feeling as though you are being rocked by the waves. Don't you just love the smell of the beach? The sticky air? I even love the smell of the stinky sludge in the bay. That is love ladies and gentlemen.I love sand between my toes, I love getting home from the beach and seeing the sand in the carpet of the car, some might get annoyed by this, I love it.

I love the summer because I can decorate my house with shells from the beach, that I found, and this giant one from my Pop Pop's home that I took after I was living there for a bit. It isn't exactly stealing, it was outside, it had spider webs in it, this conch shell was left for the taking, so get off my case. It reminded me of him because he too loved the beach. I mean loved it like no other. He would be tan all summer, and inevitably most of the year. I honestly think the sand in his hair would stay there until at least christmas time. My ocd behavior would beg to peel his back when he returned home from the beach. That's gross, I know it is, try being me, I swear I was meant to be a dermatologist. I am obsessed with pores, skin, etc. Anyway, I got to keep this conch shell and his hat that said, 'Plumbers have Bigger Tools.' That my friends, is some good memorabilia of a grandfather.

So,our family was coming from out west to visit again, and they wanted to go to the beach for the day. Now I have not been on a beach vacation since Ethan was born, so I am suffering from some major withdrawal. Not only that, my kids don't even remember the beach! Can you imagine that? This is some major neglect going on.

In preparation for this day, I explained the beach to Kendall and Ethan. I told them all about the waves and what we could do with the sand. They asked about sharks, I promised there was no sharks, what are they crazy?!!? I went to bed each night leading up to the day praying that the Lord would not bless Harvey Cedars with a shark sighting on the day we were to be there. They wanted to know why we were not taking a plane to the beach. I mean, we hardly ever went there, it must be far, like Disney World. I explained we would be taking the van, that it would take a little bit of time, but we could most certainly drive, Daddy is not Donald Trump, and we were not hitting up Atlantic City.

Jacob was running a high fever the day we were to go. I was panic ridden the night before, certain that we couldn't go due to this illness, and I would break Kendall's heart because it was all she talked about. I mean E talked about it too, but really, he talked about it because Kendall talked about it, much like everything else he talks about. In his little head, I am certain that the beach was simply a pool surrounded by sand, and we can do that any old day. So back to Jacob, you know him, the third child? Well he was burning up, and not only is it just plain difficult to take a newborn to the beach, but a sick one did just not fly. I didn't want to leave him sick and all with just anyone so I could worry and feel like s terrible mother all day. So in swept our hero, Daddy Dearest, who said he would take the day off to stay with Jake. What an awesome man, have you met him?

And we get there, much to Beatrice's, the british lady on the Tom Tom that wanted to get me lost, dismay. 'Turn right in 50 yards.' 'Opps, continue to the nearest turn around point and head back, make a left in 25 yards.' Seriously? Why are they british, telling me how to get somewhere in America, and how do I know what 25 yards is exactly? My grandmother informed me that a football field was 100 yards, so that should give me an idea. Again, what? Stupid GPS'.

So we arrive on Long Beach Island. Not only have I not been to the beach in a few years, but, I have not been to LBI since I graduated high school. I forgot how much I loved this little town. It's a classic beach town, nothing gaudy, and people ride the street on beach cruisers in bare feet. I guess you could do this anywhere, but doing it here makes it all that more nostalgic. We get all ready, load up our arms, and begin the walk to the beach. Because that is what you do, you set up a mini camp on the beach, you take all your arms can carry, because you never know what you might need, and the car is a 5 minute walk away, and that is far.

Ethan insisted that he be the leader. And he is getting pretty clever, more on that in another entry, but I can read that kid's mind like it's my job, which it is I suppose, and we are still attached by an umbilical cord, it's a medical phenomenon. So he does not announce aloud that he wants to be the first person to see the ocean, because that would mean he would have some competition, so his little legs picked up speed on the little boardwalk to the beach. Almost to the top he exclaims, 'I am going to see the ocean first!' And when he reached the top, of the dune he froze. His head slowly went from left to right taking in the size of it all. And then he takes off again.

Mind you. This child is the cautious child. Always proceeding to something new with a little trepidation. So I for certain thought that he would either a. take the entire day to even stick his feet in the ocean, and then love it when we had to leave, or b.not want to go near it at all and scream like he does at the sight of clowns at the mere suggestion of sticking a toe in. Did I ever mention this kid and clowns? I mean terrified, he screams like a mass murderer is coming after him with a hatchet when one is near. Panic takes over his face, and his facial expressions are so large and animated that you swear he is about to fall over and just die from fear. He looks at a picture of a clown and shudders. But he is not stopping and here I am tossing everything into a heap and racing to grab his hand before the first wave hits him. Thank goodness Jacob was not with us, he might have landed on top of the umbrella. It smacks into him and I let him fall. First lesson of the ocean, it is really strong. Since he was showing no fear, I wanted to instill a little, I have that healthy fear of the ocean, like if you don't mind your manners, you are getting a huge mouthful of salt and sand to choke on. But he gets up laughing hysterically, wanting more. Kendall right beside him, thinking that it is just hilarious that the water is not flat like a pool. She wants her swimmies so she can go swim out in it really far. Wonderful. You never think about the exact opposite of a situation being worrisome also. I found that out real fast. Kendall found out real fast about sand in the pouch of the bathing suit. That it feels real comfy. Nothing like feeling like you have a load in your pants that is chafing you at the same time.


So after some battles with the waves, they took to the sand. And they looked like sand monsters, sand sticks so well to suntan lotion, what fun!

Kendall and E played with Carson and Kaitlyn all day long.



At one point my sister took my begging daughter out into the ocean in between the yellow flags. I will just go ahead and say, that is what just plain sucks about the Jersey Beaches, you have to swim between the yellow flags so the life guards can save you a little easier. I call this laziness. So everyone is all crammed together like a public pool, and people who insist on body surfing in this tight space get to annoy the crap out of you. Kendall quickly learned that it is not so fun way out there with or without your swimmies since a wave took them in the first two minutes. Kendall was screaming and crying telling me she was 'never going in the deep end of the ocean again!' 'How could Aunt Chelley do that' to her!?!??! But once we got back to the 'little end,' in front of our chairs, she was happy to jump and splash again, and scowl at her aunt.



Now my grandmother. I say it like I am nothing like her, but I am just the exactly the opposite, and just like her. She believes firmly that when you go somewhere you are going to experience it all. And when you go to the beach, you get the sea gulls. She decides it might be fun for the kids to feed them and watch them swarm. Yes, she was the person on the beach you want to drop kick because they are feeding the seagulls.


Once it was done, this one gull didn't take the hint, and stuck around for leftovers. Carson named him Bob, and a friend was made. He just sat there amongst us. We fed him by hand and Kendall even stuck a goldfish cracker in her lips, and Bob came up and grabbed it right out. Now had she not thrown the goldfish crackers into the air, we would have never met Bob. See what I am saying? Experience life a little, feed the seagulls.





When it was time to leave Ethan did not want to budge. It was 6 pm, and him and my mother could have stayed there till dark. A beach bum in the making. We promised him that next summer we would stay over at the beach for a lot of nights in a house. OBX we are coming home...




So there is still some sand in my van's carpets. But it is almost time to vacuum it again, looks like we have to go back for some more.