Santa's Snack

I should have written this a little sooner, perhaps in time for Christmas, but with two children, two dogs, two cats, two rabbits, a move into a new house, and of course an ADHD husband, I was a tad busy! I did however think that this was worth a mention…

            As I was driving the kids in the car the other day on the way home from daycare, I asked Benji what kind of food we should leave out for Santa this year. I saw his reflection in my rearview mirror and he had a look of confusion. I proceeded to explain to him that Santa Claus gets very hungry because he carries lots of presents to lots of kids all night long and he works very hard to make sure that he can get to as many children as possible. To that statement Ben responded with, “He can just eat at home.” I laughed a little, and then explained to Ben that Santa would probably eat dinner at his house in the North Pole, but he would probably like a snack when he got to our house. All the time I was planning on leading up to encouraging Benji to leave a snack that Adam and I could enjoy that evening after dinner, my strategy was failing miserably. After explaining this process to Ben, I again asked him what he thought Santa would like to snack on that evening. He thought for a while and gave the generic answer, “Cookies.” I assured that him that cookies were a great idea, but EVERYONE leaves cookies, Santa likes cheese and crackers, maybe a little summer sausage, and maybe even a little wine…again Ben thought for a few seconds. “We can leave Santa chicken, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and cookies.” So, there it was…that was the plan, it wasn’t necessarily what “Santa” wanted, but that was what Ben thought he needed. I headed to the store the next day, picked up a rotisserie chicken in preparation for the Big Guy, and headed home with a car load of other groceries to get us through the holidays. The chicken didn’t last long, it was consumed that night for dinner as I didn’t really feel like cooking, there was a little left over, but we forgot to leave that out for Santa…we forgot to leave anything out for Santa and his reindeer. I have high hopes that next year’s Christmas will be planned a little better…perhaps I can carve out time to prepare a delightful snack for Santa, some grain for his reindeer, remember to leave the Santa Key on the door so he can actually get into our house. The only thing that I accomplished this year was hand making all four of our own stockings and getting the gifts wrapped in time, although that probably wouldn’t have been completed without the assistance of my niece!  

Even though we forgot the chicken, Santa still came through.
Christmas morning 2012.

Going home and Going to bed...

            A recent move to an old family home has recently taken place, and with that a disruption to the organized chaos that I call my life is happening. The other morning, I woke up to get ready for work, and for Adam to inquire where his tennis shoes were. He was in desperate need of tennis shoes because he had been asked to dress “business casual” for work that day. I’m not sure where the tennis shoes fit into business casual, but I wasn’t going to argue about it so early in the morning. I searched for the shoes, having no idea where they had walked off too, but Adam was positive that I was the one that had packed his shoes so I HAD to know where they were. Now that I’m living in my deceased grandparent’s home, I feel the need to steal my grandfather’s catch phrase and describe what happened between Adam and I a “heated discussion.” Maybe I packed his shoes, I really had no idea at that time, and definitely didn’t know where they ended up. He’s since found the shoes, and I’m POSITIVE that I wouldn’t have placed them in the spot that he found them! Anyway, that was my morning! I dropped the kids off at daycare, headed to a long day of listening to a prosecuting attorney lecture on how to testify in court (training for a new job is not always so exhilarating). About half way through the day, and thinking about testifying I court, it popped into my head that my car’s tags would expire in exactly two days. From my other stories that I’ve posted, I’m sure you can imagine that I was completely unable to focus on what I should have been learning for work, all I could think about was getting new registration for my car! Luckily, I calmed my nerves somewhat by finding a Secretary of State office less than a mile from where I was, and I would be out by 4, therefore able to make it to SOS before it closed. The day was saved, or so I thought. I promptly left work that day in a rush and without saying goodbye to anyone, sped to the SOS office, walked in and without having to stand in line I walked up to the counter and was told that I would need to show my current registration and proof of insurance. I informed the woman that I would run to my car to get those and be right back. As I got to my car I searched, and searched, AND SEARCHED MORE…and then drove off too embarrassed to admit that I’d been driving for 6 months without proof of insurance or registration in my car. Of course I had no idea where they were, Adam had no idea where they were, and the expiration date was soon approaching. I drove home cautiously to avoid catching the eye of any law enforcement. About 40 minutes later I arrived back home in time to pick up a prescription that I needed, the pharmacy informed me that they had tried to call however couldn’t reach me…my prescription was on back-order…whatever that means! Okay, trying to stay calm… I head to our old house to pack up a few more loose items that we still needed to clean out and then to get the kids. I noticed that my car was low on gas, but I was positive I could make it to get the kids and then head directly to the gas station before driving to our new house. After arriving at daycare, I walked inside, gathered the kids and their belongings, walked outside to realize that my car was no longer running. You guessed it…OUT OF GAS. No worries, I would just call a friend or family, after all we knew everyone in the area. Well, the “everyone” that we knew must have all been together in an undisclosed location because nobody wanted to answer their phones or come help! Awesome! After 20 minutes of chatting and small talk with the daycare provider, the neighbor to the daycare center was able to help, I gave him $5 and he poured enough gas into my tank to get me safely to the gas station. After this day, I did not feel like cooking…so after getting gas we headed to McDonalds. I walked in carrying Presley who had pastel striped pants because she had “blown out” of her other diapers and pants and a red Chrismas shirt, and one sock. Let me tell you, I really looked like mother of the year tonight. Benji was more than excited but didn’t feel like eating much because there was a toy for him in his happy meal. Ahhh….going home and going to bed…what a day.

Pictures to come...

I don't have time for Goodwill

            Against my better judgment the other evening, I decided to perform one of the most dreaded wifely duties that all women find disgusting, smelly, messy, and sometimes gooey…taking out the trash. Oftentimes, my wonderful husband does this for me on his way out the door in the mornings or after dinnertime cleanup, but I felt an incredible urge to handle it on this particular evening. After the kids were both in bed, the kitchen was clean, and dishes placed strategically in the dishwasher, I cinched up the trash bag and headed out the door. As I approached the trash cans, I noticed that one was full which was unusual because the trash had just been picked up two days prior. Standing in the rain, looking at the full trash can, my curiosity got the best of me. I opened the top bag up, slowly peeked in and found….BEN’S OLD BABY CLOTHES AND SHOES! At this point I was more than pissed off as I yanked the bag out of the trash can and set it by my feet. I knew I had to check into the other bag that had been “thrown out.” A little quicker this time than last, I tore open the big yellow bag only to find MY CLOTHES and the warmest, fluffiest, Victoria’s Secret bathrobe that I’d been missing forever. I yanked up both bags and plopped them in the garage that my dearest Adam has been working so hard to clean before our big move to the country here in a few weeks. I marched back into the house and inquired as to why a bag of baby clothes and a bag of my clothing had been thrown away, to this question the response was:

Adam: “I don’t have time for Goodwill.”

Me: “So you just threw everything in the trash?”

Adam: “I figured Ben is 3 now and the baby that we have has enough clothes.”

Me: “Umm..what about my stuff?”

Adam: “Sorry.”

            And I let it go with the sorry, and by “let it go” I mean that I stopped asking questions, texted my friend about the situation, and acted snotty all night. A little later on, I tried to explain the unwritten rule of baby clothing…you pass it on to friends and relatives, or you take it to a mom-to-mom sale and make some cash. Goodwill has never received any of my baby clothes and I doubt they ever will, I may go to hell for that statement, forgive me.  Adam was blissfully unaware of my attachment and concern about the baby clothes, and I know that he was thinking that I hadn’t missed the bag of my clothes since the last move that we made so I could do without them now, he’s probably right about my clothes…but don’t mess with my baby’s clothes. I don’t care that Benji is 3 and will obviously NEVER fit into infant clothing again, I’m not ready to part with all of those memories yet, unless of course I can make some money! As I emptied the bag of baby clothes tonight, I was reminded of my lil man as a baby and how cute he was in those clothes, and how little he once was. I reminisced. I wondered if I would ever be blessed enough to have another little boy to wear those same clothes and I thought back to the days of when Benji was my only child and how I had time to cook him breakfast every morning before daycare. I decided that I don’t really NEED these clothes, and I don’t really have the space for them, but I felt as if I was giving away so many memories. Again, against my better judgment, I packed many of the clothes into a tote with all intentions of selling it to a secondhand store…someday.

Stumped

            Try as I may, there are some things that I cannot answer…correctly. I consider myself an educated person, interact on a daily basis with educated people, and spend much of my time at work researching things such as “Ligers” (google it, you’ll be hooked)  and when to use “Who” or “Whom.” There are a few things in life that stump me though, and the majority of those few things are questions from the curious mind of my 3 year old. Yes, I realize that all kids ask “why” all of the time, but I really do try to give the correct answers to him, and because of this Benji seems able to think and reason at the level of a certified genius. Some of the questions are simple…and some, not so much…

Saturday at the grocery store…

Ben: I gotta go potty.

Me: Okay, I do too, let’s go.

Ben: Wanna play swords?

Me: Umm…NO.

Ben: Why?

Me: Umm…let’s just go potty.

How do you answer that in public and why do little boys think that playing “swords” in the bathroom is the coolest thing in the world?

 

A few weeks ago, Ben in the bathroom at our house…

Ben: I pooped!

Me: Did you wipe?

Ben: No.

Me: You need to go back in to the bathroom and wipe.

Ben: Why?

Me: So your butt doesn’t itch.

And…

An ongoing battle…

Me: Ben, take your fingers out of your mouth.

Ben: Why?

Me: So you don’t get worms

Ben: Why?

Me: They’ll make your butt itch.

Ben: Why?

Me: I don’t know, just stop chewing on your fingers.

So, in life, I’ve found that there are some really great answers to some really great questions, and then there are the questions that seem so simple, but we have no idea how to answer them. My poor child is going to grow up believing that chewing on his fingernails will give him worms (which is what my childhood babysitter used to tell us…thanks Sharon), simply because I can’t explain germs to him because he can’t physically see them. It’s funny to me that the older my children get, the dumber I feel!

Thuggle

Thought I'd share my most recent picture of one of my furbabies. This is Mason, a puggle. He's posing for his latest "pugshot". Beware...don't piss a "thuggle" off.

A Fabulous Beginning...

            I sit here in my oversized lounge chair and stare at one bright blue sock on my right foot, and a Santa Claus sock on my left foot, and wonder how on earth I’m going to raise two children. I see how my dogs act and rarely refrain from naughtiness, and I again wonder how this is going to work out. I remember when first became pregnant with Benji, my brother John sat me down and told me that parenting is the absolute hardest job that I will ever have, but the best job I’ll ever have too. Being the much older brother that he is to me, he usually has very well thought out and heartfelt advice, and this was no exception. Parenting is definitely a test of my heart and soul, and although I may sound like a horrible person for what I’m about to say, I think most of you will understand what I mean…and if you don’t, I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re lying. Sometimes I don’t like my kids.

            When I get home from work, rush around to make dinner, notice but deny the mess of toys and clothes covering my living room floor, serve dinner only to hear, “eeeeewwwww. It has green things in it” or “eeeeewww…I don’t like _________ (fill in the blank),” I don’t like my kids.  When it seems like all I need to do is take a nap, but that’s the last thing my kids need to do…I don’t like my kids. And when my husband and I have a knockdown, drag out about a parenting technique because of a bad behavior that one of my kids displayed, I don’t like my kids very much. But…just because I don’t like my kids very much sometimes, doesn’t mean that I don’t love my kids with every inch of my being every moment of my existence. And with that being said, here is what I want for the kids that I don’t like sometimes…

1. Happiness

2. Health

3. Bliss

4. Knowledge

5. Integrity

6. Desire

7. Imagination

8. Dreams

9. Love

10. A good dog.

            Some of these things can be taught, bought, or made, but most come from within, and as a parent, I don’t know exactly how to “put” these things inside my kids. I feel fortunate as my parents figured it out. They strategically placed each and every one of these things into their three completely different children at different times in their lives. Aside from the good dog (Eddie the Wonder Dog) in those critical middle school years when nothing else made sense, I’m not sure when my parents “put” these inside of me.  I truly hope that one of these days I’ll figure it out for my own children, as for now I think picking out matching socks would be a fabulous beginning.  

 

 

Menards

          It’s rare that our family has time to do nothing, and when we are free to do nothing together, we feel the sudden urge to do something purposeless. Today we decided to leave the house a mess and head to Menards! Exhilarating, I know. I quickly made PB&J sandwiches for the kids, convincing Benji that “it’s the kind of peanut butter without peanuts,” after his rather sudden aversion to peanuts. Adam made a PB&J for himself, I helped myself to a meatless hamburger of which I’m not sure why I bought since I’m not a vegetarian by any means, and topped everyone’s lunch off with potato chips and grapes, which made it a healthy meal! Benji made himself chocolate milk, but refused to drink it because it was too cold. During our meal, I explained to him that most things that come straight out of the refrigerator are cold, he refused to believe me and the milk went to waste. Trying to practice my skill of patience, I ignored the fact that the milk was too cold, and finished my meatless burger with a smile on my face. After an extended lunch because Presley wanted to play rather than eat, we gathered the kids and jumped in the car for our family trip to Menards!

          It wasn’t until we got there that I realized I hadn’t packed diapers or wipes for Presley, or extra underwear and pants for Benji…necessities at this point in our lives. Typically these items remain somewhere in the car, except for today. As Presley sat happily in her own poop, we continued to smell it. She didn’t mind, and like the perfect parents we are, we pretended that we didn’t know that she needed a new diaper. Benji and I wandered off to another part of the store. By now you would think I would have learned my lesson about toy isles, apparently I haven’t. DON’T EVER LET YOUR KIDS WANDER THROUGH TOY ISLES! If you don’t have an intention of buying a toy, it is most definitely a tantrum waiting to happen…and the wait wasn’t long. Benji wanted everything in the store, Christmas lights, a blow up Santa riding a Harley, fluorescent lighting, Stockings, wrapping paper, a leather chair, and of course, all of the toys in the toy isles. After refusing to leave the toy isle and being placed inside the basket of the cart, and then trying to leap out, I left Adam in the store with little smelly and headed to the car with my toyless wonder. He continued to scream in the car until Adam and Presley finally arrived, and then just pouted. Part of this is our fault, a nap was far overdue, however the trip to Menards sounded so appealing that we had decided to forego the nap, bad idea.

          I’m now sitting here in my silent but messy house with Presley sleeping in her crib, Ben finally asleep in his bed, and Adam, next to me on the couch sound asleep. Next time I’ll make sure the whole family has naps BEFORE we head out on an adventure…and as for the diaper situation, the car is fully re-stocked!

Probably just PMS

                    As I sit here in my basement drinking my glass of wine and contemplating marketing a pill form of this wonderful substance, I realize that although it sometimes feels like everyone else in my house, including one of my dogs, needs to be medicated, it is probably just me. I know that I’ve mentioned this several times before, but hear me out.

1. Saturday I went grocery shopping, with Batman. Nobody commented, apparently I am the only one that thinks this is odd.

2. While in the grocery store, I perused the wine isle. I decided that a regular sized bottle was not big enough. I justified this by telling myself that the larger bottle was “a better deal.”

3. I lost my cell phone this weekend somewhere in between exiting my house and entering our car. This is only about 17 steps. Yes, I retraced my steps, yes I searched the pockets, car, and ground, and NO…IT CANNOT BE LOCATED. Pretty sure a rabid raccoon stole it while my back was turned or something.

4. I left my friend in my car with my two children while I ran into the store really quick to buy dog food. After entering the dog food isle, my anxiety kicked in (This may sound familiar to some, refer back to a September post titled Our New Dog Food) and I spent much longer than necessary walking back and forth reading dog food labels, checking and re-checking prices, and going over in my head what flavors my dogs would like best. Oh, and then I spontaneously decided to check into a calming medication for one of our overly hyperactive dogs. This took another 10 minutes.  So, after my quick trip of “be right back” turned into an anxiety-filled extended amount of time, I exited the store and entered the parking lot where I ran with the cart to the car…the running saved about 12 seconds, at the time I thought this was helpful.

5. After arriving home from a friend’s baby shower yesterday to find the kitchen still a mess, toys spread throughout the living room, and dinner not started, I was in a foul mood. Apparently, I thought the magical “mom’s out of the house” fairy was going to come for a visit. She did not.  

          So, I realize that none of these are huge, life-changing experiences, and it’s probably just PMS starting to kick in, and in reality I do not want anyone in my house to be medicated, aside from our hyperactive Golden Retriever, but I do know that if it were socially acceptable to consume a bottle of wine every day I’d probably be in a much better mood most of the time!

Dinner without Batman?

            My drive home from work today was a bit of a blur as I wiped tears out of my eyes almost the entire way home. I have just started in a new position at work, and was handed my new training schedule on my way out the door today by my supervisor. Although I had mentioned to my husband that there may be a chance of me having to be away from the family for a few days, it became a reality when I looked at the training schedule only to find that I will be required to be away from home for 3 weeks (weekends home) and then a few other days throughout the 9 week course will be spent in hotels also. I am going to have to be away from my babies and alone, COMPLETELY ALONE, in a hotel room for 3 weeks. Shortly after arriving home today and drying my tears, my kids greeted me as they walked through the door. Benji instantly needed to poop, and walked straight to the bathroom, stripped his clothes, left the door open, sat on the toilet, and grunted loudly for all to hear. As he walked out of the bathroom, we went through the standard interrogation:

Me: Did you flush?

Ben: Yes.

Adam: Did you wipe?

Ben: Yes. (while bending over completely naked, hands on the floor, but in the air to prove his point)

Adam: Looks like a clean wipe, good job!

(Keep in mind that nothing seems out of the ordinary here, it’s become so commonplace to ask those questions that I have to stop myself from questioning people at work sometimes)

Shortly after the early evening poop, Ben found a pair of underwear to put on (backwards of course). We stepped outside to chat with some friends who happened to be walking by, Ben followed, in underwear, carrying his Batman costume. While chatting with our friends and never breaking stride in conversation, I helped Benji place on leg into the costume, then the other, and then his arms, tied the back tight…and we now have a muscle-chested Batman on the front porch…in cowboy boots. (This is still normal for me) After our friends continued with their walk, and my husband left for his school, Batman, Presley, and I headed back inside to have dinner. I had prepared homemade baked mac and cheese with sausage for dinner. Benji requested cinnamon flavored cheerios as a topping for his mac and cheese along with his glass of milk that requires one ice cube and a splash of water out of the dispenser in the refrigerator. (This is all still very normal) After dinner, the weather was still beautiful, a perfect fall day, so we went for a walk. Batman rode his bike, I pushed Presley in the stroller, and walked both dogs. Passersby frequently comment that I have my hands full, but any mom can easily juggle 1 baby, a Batman, 2 dogs, and probably an entire herd of wild cats…and 14 grocery bags. Anyway, we went on a lengthy walk, and when we returned home, I got Presley ready for bed as she could barely stop rubbing her sleepy eyes, and then found a cowboy show for Batman to watch, Bonanza to be exact. Presley was laid to bed, and Ben was content for a few minutes while I cleaned up the mess from dinner and the toys that had been carelessly left all over the living room floor. Batman’s grandpa arrived (everyone has a grandpa, even Batman), so I could head out for a 45 minute workout session, and upon returning Ben was put to bed by grandpa and the house was quiet, quiet enough for me to continue cleaning. And with all of this quiet, I became sad again…and wondered, WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO DO IN A HOTEL ROOM ALL ALONE FOR 3 WEEKS? No cooking, no cleaning, no wiping anyone else’s butt, no daycare, no cartoons, and dinners without Batman?  It will definitely be the absolute most ABNORMAL thing that has happened to me since I have had a family.

32 Tiny Turds

            Presley was the only one who was able to nap today, and it was a wonderful and peaceful 3 hours! Benjamin “worked” very hard all day helping his cousin load and unload wood for Ham and Paw (Grandma and Grandpa), stack and re-stack hay in the barn, being Batman and then a wardrobe change which transformed him in to a cowboy, and playing “guys” with his other cousin. It was a struggle to get Benjamin to sit down for 5 minutes to have lunch and dinner. The dogs, much like Benji, did not receive their usual 8 hour nap while everyone was out of the house, and were loving the fresh farm air, yummy cow poop, cats to chase, and the “possible”  (opossum) that they tormented while in the barn. After the “possible” was relocated far from the house out in the woods, the dogs were finally able to relax, but still had to sniff every tree and blade of grass…after all, a dog’s work is NEVER complete. After a very long and energy expending day, we were finally headed home. Yes, all of us…in my Dodge Avenger. Before I go on, let me explain our seating arrangement. Obviously I was in the driver’s seat, Oakley our golden retriever rode shotgun, Presley rear driver’s side in a carseat, Mason the puggle rides rear middle curled up in a tiny ball, and Benji rear passenger side in a carseat. It’s a tight squeeze, but we make it work. Anyway, moving on with my story, after pulling out of my parent’s driveway with the car bursting at the seams, Benji was asleep before we had even driven one mile. Oakley was asleep in the front seat, Mason passed out in the back, and then there’s Presley…again, the only one of us that had taken a nap! Wide awake! She talked the entire way home in baby babble, played with her sockless feet, ate and smeared a graham cracker all over her face and shirt, and was ecstatic when we finally arrived home because she was ready to play! Presley became even more excited when I walked into the house and turned on the water for her much needed bath. She played and splashed for a while, and then when daddy pulled her out of the tub, the climax of excitement hit when she was allowed a few minutes of “nakey time!” During nakey time, Presley crawls as fast as she can around the kitchen and living room laughing and smiling, especially if someone tries to chase her. Adam and I were watching tv, being parents of the year, thinking that as long as we could hear her she was fine! And she was fine, don’t get me wrong, just not being directly supervised! She continued crawling around the floor wanting to play, until daddy decided it was time to dress her in the pajamas that had been laid out for bed. After she was dressed, I picked her up to make her bottle, and Adam went to use the bathroom…and what did he find? Apparently during nakey time, Presley had decided to poop about 32 tiny turds all over the bathroom floor. And then…the topper for the night….Adam yells for the dogs to come clean it up! Yes, he really did that. Then, he looked at me and said, “WHAT?” The letters “OMG” must have been clearly written on my forehead, or maybe it was the look of “you’re an idiot” that I was giving him, but he didn’t follow through. Don’t worry, I put a stop to it, and he was forced to clean the bathroom floor. Sometimes I really wonder, what the hell happens when I’m not around to supervise???

Chaps

          To be honest, I’ve been somewhat distracted lately with being incredibly busy with the kids, taking a new position at work that will begin next Monday, setting up appointments with realtors and lenders to start the process of buying a new home, and everything else that happens in between all of the scheduled appointments and daily routines. After a struggle getting to sleep last night with my mind racing, and a sleep that consisted of strange dreams (the ones that make you feel like you didn’t sleep at all), I was reminded this morning that I need to slow down and realize what’s really important.

          Presley was awake bright and early with a snotty nose and a less than thrilled look on her face about the molars that she’s trying to grow. I pumped her full of Tylenol, gave her breakfast, and she was content. I went upstairs to sing Benji awake. I found him on his top bunk. I never know where he’s going to be in the mornings…bottom bunk, top bunk, Spiderman couch, chair in the living room, our bed…could be anywhere! Anyway, as I sang to him he started to move, he slowly stretched and then sat up with his eyes squinting from the lights, felt around his bed in search of the one thing that he cannot be without. His bright blue cowboy hat…to match his bright blue cowboy boots of course! And with his hat sturdily placed on his head and eyes still groggy he was ready to begin his day. I lifted him down off the top bunk and carried him downstairs to his “wake up chair” that he sits in for a few minutes before actually conversing with anyone or having breakfast. After a couple of minutes, he began his normal morning routine with his cowboy hat on. Bathroom, clothes, breakfast and juice. After putting his cowboy boots on, we were about to walk out the door…and then Benji began to scan the living room and kitchen for something. I asked him what he was looking for and he told me that he needed chaps. I explained to Ben that he doesn’t have any chaps, and to try to rush him along I may have mentioned to him that Santa may be able to find some chaps. (Yes, I’m already starting to use Santa to my advantage and it’s only October) Sadly, Benji looked up at me and said, “But real cowboys have chaps.” Obviously the Santa thing wasn’t going to work with this one, but I did reassure him that he is, in fact, a real cowboy, but we needed to head off to daycare. He was satisfied enough with my answer and headed out to the car. While driving to daycare to drop the kids off, I realized that I need to stop being so stressed out. Sometimes all ya need in life is a day off to be a cowboy, who cares about all of the other stuff!

(This is only one of his many cowboy hats!)

"Soccerball"

            For 6 weeks I’ve raced out of work, picked the kids up from daycare, rushed home to pick up the soccerball juice, soccerball, soccerball “chin” guards, and soccerball shoes…and then pulled into the parking lot of the soccerball field screeching my tires trying not to be “that mom who never gets her kids anywhere on time.” Since Adam is away at class every week on soccerball night, I pretended to be that awesome soccer mom that has her shit together…for 6 long weeks. Here’s a brief week by week synopsis of our soccerball camp. Keep in mind this program was designed for 3-4 year olds.

 

Week 1: Arrive at soccerball 5 minutes late, the other kids are already on the field running in circles, and there are no parking spaces so ALL of the parents stare as I park crookedly in the grass. As I step out of my non-soccer mom car in my heels and dress clothes, I let Benji out of the car, go get Presley out of the car, and head to the field. The coach greets us, gives Ben a high five, and he’s off. Things appear to be going well, until Ben ran up to me asking for his drink. Yeah, I hadn’t packed anything. I didn’t realize that 3 year olds strained themselves so much in 45 minutes that they needed 3 drink breaks.  Luckily, a much more prepared parent with an unopened water bottle saved the day. Benji was not happy about the water, but he settled for it eventually…after all, this was a strenuous activity that required constant hydration. Now it’s time for Parent Participation! Keep in mind…heels, soccer field…and a 10 month old in my arms. Awesome. I head to the field, my job is to be Ben’s partner and kick the ball back and forth. In my mind I was about to be recruited for the USA team, however looking back on this, I must have looked like “that mom that purposely wears fancy clothes and pretends to be super energetic and positive 100% of the time.” Yeah, that person annoys me…until I become that person!

 

Week 2: This week, most of the kids seemed to listen to the coach better. There were still 2 kids that sat with their parents on the sidelines crying because they were too anxiety ridden to go out onto the field. I sat with Presley on the sidelines and watching one child bear crawl around the entire soccer field pushing the ball with her head while her mom followed her around shouting, “no donkey kicking at soccer.” “You should stand up…we’re not donkeys.” Meanwhile, I came to the realization that she and her child both looked like donkeys. I’m not judging.

 

Week 3: The coach tried to teach the children about the number one rule in soccer…”no hands!” Benji, however, thinks it’s funny to pick the ball up and throw it into the goals. When the coach gave the direction to kick the cones over with the balls…Benji looked around at the other children following directions, picked his ball up, held it in his arms, and raced around to kick every cone over that he could with his foot. He was obviously able to do this much faster than the other kids who kicked the cones over with the ball! He was so proud of himself.

Week 4: And then, he pooped his pants. I didn’t find out until we got home. I wondered why he wandered around aimlessly, refused to listen to directions, and acted very withdrawn. We went to McDonalds for dinner anyway. This was an unsuccessful couple of weeks and I didn’t feel like making dinner!

Week 5: Apparently Benji had been starved and deprived of a drink the entire day at daycare. Without fail, every 5 minutes he raced over to Presley and me, grabbed a handful of cheerios and a drink of his “soccerball juice” (Gatorade) and raced back to the field.

Week 6: This is it, in the 45 minutes of practice they stretched, made goals, chased the coach around, had 3 drink breaks, dribbled the balls, and actually looked like they understood some actual soccer skills. Then…it was award time. Benji officially completed 6 weeks of LIL KICKERS SOCCER!!!!

 

Next up…basketball!

 

 

 

Potty Trained

Yesterday my son had a doctors appointment and it was out of town, near an outlet mall.  OBVIOUSLY, it was only NECESSARY that when we left the dr's we should head to the outlet mall, right?!

For those of you who don't know me, shopping is therapy for me.  Relieves stress and makes me feel like me, not like a mom, or Kurt's wife, or Kristi's sister, but me-this is what I was born to do. . .really, it just doesn't pay.

Ok, getting off track.  My husband decided he'd stay in the car with Kendall as Tyler and I jotted in and out of stores. . .jotted takes on a different meaning when you are shopping with a 3 year old boy, but we tried.

In our 1st store, Tyler looks at me and says, mom, I got poop in my butt.  Great, I thought, and I said, as any mom would say, you sure Buddy? You got to poop?  he said, no, I can wait til I get home and I can have my own seat.  Again, I said, you sure?  He said yeah, I don't have to poop anymore.  WHEW! Major relief!! I mean, there are times when I'm NOT thankful my son potty trained so easily and they are always those moments when I am shopping and he has to poop.  But, we did it-we got out of that 1!

We went to 3 more stores-him acting crazy and me acting like the perfect mother and him responding as though I was.  I'm on a major high at this time, sales, outlet mall, compliant son. . .then it happens.  

Our 4th store and he again says, mom, I have to poop.  So I ask the manager if there is a bathroom and she points to the back room.  We go into the bathroom and I tell him to sit on the toilet paper I have just covered the toilet with.  Then I told him to wait to push (because I didn't make him stand and pee first and I didn't want him spraying up).  I stood up to get a thick pad of paper towels to place in front of him so to avoid a mess and as I kneel down, before I get the towels in place he pushes.  Yup, right at me.  Did I mention we were at an outlet mall?  Did I mention that we were a ways from home?  My entire arm was soaked in pee-my long sleeved tshirt was completely wet. . .almost like he AIMED at my arm.  His underwear were soaked and his jeans got a little.  The floor was a mess!  He immediately started apologizing, what do u say?  I just said, it's ok, Tyler, it's ok.  I stood up and grabbed more paper towels.  I loaded my sleeves with towels and went to work on the floor.  After everything was wiped up, floor soaped down, Tyler's underwear removed, and Tyler and I's hands clean, we left the bathroom. Did I mention Tyler decided he didn't have to poop?  Yeah.  And, brought to an abrupt stop and it was time to go home.  Yay, Tyler is potty trained. . . . .

Much too Selfish...Sometimes

          There comes a point most days where I realize that I am far too selfish to be a parent. Here are a few examples:

1. When I allow your children to have only a few pieces of Halloween candy after convincing them that the penny candy is “the best” and then eating all of the chocolate when they aren’t looking.

2. When I strategically hide the last chocolate chip cookie on top of the refrigerator until after the kids go to bed, and then justify my action by convincing myself that I “forgot to offer it to the kids.”

3. When I put my kids to bed early just so I can watch the tv shows that I want instead of Batman cartoons.

4. When I have my three year old call his grandparents to ask if he can come visit, so I can go shopping by myself. Grandparents never say no to a child.

5. When I take a bite of their mac and cheese because I’ve already finished mine, and then refuse to share anything off of my own plate.

6. When I get out of work early, but still don’t pick my kids up from daycare until 5 minutes before it closes or when I get myself dressed like I am going to go to work so my provider doesn’t judge me, then skip work and leave the kids at daycare while I take the day off!

7. When I convince Ben to take a nap on the weekends because “it’s fun” just so I can take a nap too.

I realize that the older my children get, the less I’ll be able to get away with these things. I know some of you are judging me right now, but most of you have done at least one of these things…and as embarrassing as it is to admit, I have done all of these at one time or another. I really hope that I don’t scar my kids too badly for the rest of their lives, but what they don’t know won’t hurt them, right? Right!!! At least I hope not.    

Don't worry, that's a soda in my hand.

Super Human

            I have a friend who is currently pregnant with her first child. She’s at the point in her pregnancy when the thought of pushing something the size of a watermelon out of a hole that is the size of a golf ball becomes a reality. Remember those days? Scary. I tried to explain to her that it’s not as bad as it sounds, or looks, and people have been doing this for hundreds of years….and she can have an epidural if she chooses! Should be a piece of cake! Still nervous I tried to change the subject to a positive aspect of pregnancy…the Super Human strength that you gain a few days or weeks before the baby is born. This is typically gone as quickly as it arrived, but in those few days, or hours, I’m quite definite that a woman could move a 2 ton cargo train, or at least have it clean enough to eat off the floor. I remember when this hit me a couple of weeks before Benji was born. Adam was away at a softball tournament and I was at that stage of my pregnancy where your body and mind work together to prevent you from sleeping…and it hit. I just NEEDED to move a crib and 2 big adult sized dressers, I NEEDED to vacuum every inch of the carpet, wash all of the curtains in the whole house, wash and fold all of the new baby clothes, and then separate them into totes labeled by sizes, re-fill one dresser with all of the newborn clothes that I had just accumulated, fill the other dresser with all of my clothes that I had taken out of the dresser that would now become Benji’s, carry a bookshelf or two up the hardwood stairs, oh and then clean all of the stairs, pack a diaper bag, pack a hospital bag, open the baby dresser again to look at all of the clothes and re-arrange the sock drawer, and then after that hour was up…go rest for a few minutes in front of the tv because my back was very sore. I have never used cocaine, however I think the effects are similar. After finally getting a restful night, and then loading up with Tylenol the next day, (I know Tylenol doesn’t really work, but that’s the only thing pregos can take) I felt the urge to sanitize the kitchen. I didn’t feel any super human strength, I must have used it all the night before, but I did have the energy of that annoying person at the office who drinks 14 cups of coffee during the day. Therefore, I cleaned. I bleached and sanitized, and when the kitchen was sparkling, I moved to the bathroom. Don’t worry, I turned the fans on and opened all of the windows, although the fumes were still very strong. In this frenzy the “green” cleaners were not going to cut it…I needed bleach dammit!

            So, you see…don’t be scared of what is about to happen to your body, embrace the fact that you will NEVER have a house as clean as you do after your nesting instinct kicks in, you’ll NEVER be as strong as you were for those couple of hours, and you’ll NEVER get so much accomplished in that small amount of time…especially after the baby is born!

Mommy's Juice

 

            Adam had class tonight, I had done everything right, aside from the small glitch in the crock-pot meal that I had planned for dinner, but that’s minor, and it ended up working out anyway. I had the babysitter on backup so I could continue with my half-marathon training without leaving the kiddos supervised by the dogs.  My batman mask was on, and a makeshift cape made out of Ben’s blanket. I was Batgirl “because you’re a girl” and Ben was Robin, all decked out in his cowboy boots, cape, and eye mask. Dogs were fed, cats fed, bunnies fed, and our dinner was being divided onto plates…yes, Batgirl makes a mean crock-pot chicken teriyaki. Presley inhaled the majority of her food, Ben ate his usual 4 bites because he “hates food,” and I was rather pleased with my creation and quickly cleaned my plate. We cleaned up our dinner mess, Robin entered the outside world to go “fly” around in the backyard, I cleaned Presley off, and the dogs cleaned the floor. After a short while of playing and reading books to little Presley, it was time for her to head to bed, she had missed her nap today and was ready for some much needed rest. She was put to bed without a fuss, and I headed back downstairs to find Robin. Mask back on, cape tied tight, I was ready to roll…at least for a few minutes. After those few minutes were up, I needed to get ready for my run, my father-in-law, Benji’s grandpa would arrive shortly for babysitting duties. I was frantically running around the house trying to find running clothes that would be sufficient for the cool weather, and as I came upstairs from the basement my father-in-law was there…I was still in Batgirl attire! Ben was in the bathroom, so yeah…I looked like a maniac wandering through the house dressed as Batgirl without a purpose. I explained, and he laughed. I assured him that I do not normally dress as a superhero! One embarrassing moment down…one to go. After retiring from Batgirl for the evening, I put my running clothes on, and was close to heading out the door when Benji began to explain to his grandpa about the juice that Tiffany and Mommy drink. (Tiffany is my friend, current running partner, and lives very nearby…so we see a lot of each other.) I assumed that Ben was trying to tell his grandpa about the V8 Splash energy drinks that I often have before I run so I opened the refrigerator and held one up. He assured us that he was not talking about that kind of juice. I held up my water bottles that I run with, not those either. He swiftly made his way to the fridge, opened the freezer door and pulled out a Daily’s frozen alcohol pouch, carried it toward his grandpa and said, “this is the juice that mommy and Tiffany drink!” His grandpa got a good laugh out of that, I felt like mother of the year, and I assured Ben that those were in fact the juices that Mommy and Tiffany drink and that they are only for big people. Second embarrassment of the evening…over!

Mommy's Juice!

 

I learned that at age 0

            As I sat at a stoplight and observed a woman who was walking throw her trash onto the ground as she was finished with it, I was appalled.  It isn’t often that another grown person saddens me, but her action did. As I sat and became more disgusted with the fact that she is what we refer to in our household as a “litterbug,” I thought about everything that her parents neglected to teach her and once again, breathed a sigh of relief in what my parents did instill in me. I’m quite sure that I was taught to take care of my trash at…oh…age 0! My mom did allow me to live in my own pigsty of a bedroom, however I wasn’t allowed to leave a mess anywhere in the rest of the house, let alone in public. I would have had my butt swatted so fast if I would have thrown trash out of the car window or dropped my gum wrapper along a sidewalk, and there it is…NO DISCIPLINE.

            Forgive me for frequently re-visiting this topic, but my spankings as a child are still held very near and dear to my heart! I don’t want to bash any parents by some of the things I will say, but remember…this is solely my opinion.

1. Empty threats throughout a child’s lifetime set them up for an adulthood being un-accepting of consequences. I’m sure you can think of someone who fits into this category. It is NEVER his/her own fault…and if they do accept a portion of the responsibility for their action, it is always justifiable! C’mon parents…you are the big person, your child is the little person. If you say you’re going to spank them, SPANK THEM. If you say you’re going to take their toy away….TAKE IT AWAY!

2. Kids throw fits. Often. And yes, it can be very embarrassing, especially when you’re somewhere and every other kid seems to be acting like perfection! Don’t give in…let them throw a fit. Again, you’re the big person, your child is the little person…you do not need to buy them candy every time you go to the grocery store just so they’ll be quiet. Giving in now only reinforces the fact that the more often they throw a fit, the more often they will, indeed get ANYTHING THEY WANT! I promise you, the less you give into these fits and melt-downs, the less they will occur…eventually!

3. It’s okay to say no. We, as adults, do not get everything that we want…neither should a child. I realize that it’s often very hard to say no, especially when you have the means to “give your child more than you had,” but it’s good for them. I never believed my parents when they said this to me, but it’s true. Saying no to a new toy will NOT scar a child for life, saying yes to every request WILL give your child a sense of entitlement. This is rarely a good thing.

            There, I’ve said it. Yes, there are millions of more parenting techniques that I live by, but these were the three main ones on my mind tonight. Don’t be mad, and if you are…oh well, I’ll post something a little lighter tomorrow!

A Pillow?

     I went to the gym at 6 a.m. yesterday to go to a weigh-lifting class.  Although working out is supposed to get the energy flowing, after ward I felt like I was going to crumple.  A long day at work 7:30-4 in heels and a dress and I thought the day would never end.  Ran some errands around town for both my hubby and I and got home around 5 p.m. 

     I walked in, kicked off my shoes, and thanked God that the kids were taking a late nap!  I was exhausted!  I picked up an 'OK' magazine and then my dog, Fanci, started barking!!! AUGH!!!!  Awake, yup, now the kids were awake.  Still hoping that maybe they would just sit and be quiet in their rooms, I sat on the couch with a heavy sigh. . .5 minutes, I just want 5 minutes, I thought to myself. . .then Tyler came teetering into the living room and when I saw his sweet angelic sleepy face, I couldn't help but smile and my heart was overjoyed!  I opened my arms and when he ran into them I scooped him up and pulled him into my lap.  We could both hear Kendall screaming but I told Tyler, "we are going to cuddle for 5 minutes and then I'll go get sister".  He laid his head on my belly. . .then sat up and fluffed by belly. . .then he put his head back on my stomach with his hand supporting his chin. . .WHAT?  A pillow? He fluffed my fat into a comfortable pillow!

     When getting up at 5 a.m. in the morning to go to the gym to look better, having my belly fluffed into a pillow is the LAST thing I want to happen when I get home!  Dang. . . .well, I skipped the gym this morning and I think I'll be getting Dairy Queen this evening so . . .BOO-YAH!

Despite our best efforts...

            Despite our best efforts to teach our kids manners, language, and life skills they still tend to slip up at times by farting in public, mispronouncing a common word, and making the occasional bad decision. It happens to the best of us, well not me, but my husband is guilty of all three of those things for sure! It seems that from day one of becoming a parent we worry about what this child will become as an adult, and we take 100% responsibility for everything from birth onward. When Benji was a baby I began working to teach him sign language at about 6 months old, I wanted him to have a jump on language. All this did for him was delay his verbalizing of words…but he was great at signing! Kidding, I do believe that signing was very important and cut down on a lot of frustration for him, but apparently it wasn’t important enough for me to teach it to my second child…poor little Presley. She’s bound to be an uptight frustrated adult, all because I lacked the time to teach her sign language. I took Benji to baby classes at the local library one night per week…we listened to books, sang, bounced and socialized…he’s still shy. As a baby, we placed Ben in the best daycare around with the highest of recommendations…it went bankrupt and closed. This, however was a blessing in disguise because we’ve since found an in-home daycare that we love and trust more than the “best daycare in town.” 

            You see, we are constantly hounding our children to become smarter, more athletic, nicer, more social…blah blah blah. We’re worried if they aren’t talking “on time” or walking “on time.” Sometimes we pick them up from daycare, bring them home and try to fill their brains with more knowledge than one little person can absorb on a given day…I have been guilty of this. We’re stuck in a society of competition, not that I don’t believe there shouldn’t be a score in tee-ball (BECAUSE THERE SHOULD), but I think we’re constantly comparing our children. I remember being so frantic when a friend of mine told me that her almost 3 year old was reading. I rushed home, ordered some LeapFrog educational DVDs and anxiously waited for them to arrive in the mail. When they did, that’s what Benji watched on tv. That didn’t last long, I realized that he will read when he is ready to read, and when he is ready to learn I will do everything I possibly can to foster his interest and encourage him. We still continue to read books before bed every night, I think that’s sufficient at this age.

            Every once in a while I doubt myself, and if you are a parent I’m sure you know the feeling all too well. I start to wonder about everything that I have just mentioned…and am I really doing enough for my child? Do I have him in enough recreational programs, do we read enough, do I take advantage of enough teachable moments? And then all of my doubts again vanish when we’re driving along in the car and the two landmarks that Ben jumps up and points out are McDonalds and The Dark Horse Bar. First, this made me feel like mother of the year…NOT. And then I realized that he loves McDonalds because EVERY KID loves McDonalds. He points the golden arches out no matter what town we are in…and he loves the Dark Horse because he is in love with the live music that he sees when we go there. (Yes, we take our kids to a bar.) Although McDonalds and the Dark Horse are not significant educational landmarks in his life (at least I hope not), he is learning at his own pace…and he knows what makes himself happy…McNuggets and the Bar.

I GOT TO CLEAN MY HOUSE

Been a while since I posted but yesterday I was feeling mighty guilty that Jody was left the last couple months all by her self to entertain the thousands. . . .yeah, ok, so I'm adding 1,999 people. . whatever, just a number.
SO, here is my re-birth to our blog! :-)

Yesterday my husband called me at work-it was about 3:00 and he said my dad had picked him and the 2 kids up and they were all in Kalamazoo.  They were just getting a 'late lunch' and then they were going to hit up some hunting stores.  He said they'd be a couple hours and he told me to do whatever I wanted to do. . I SWEAR I heard the chime of bells and a chorus of angels singing. . .

Now came my math skills:  just getting a late lunch-they were all in the truck when he called.  About 5 minutes to get the kids and diaper bag into a restaurant, 10 minutes to order, 30 minutes to eat, 5 minutes to get kids back in truck, 2 hours at hunting stores and driving to each, and 30 minutes home. I had approximately 3 hours!!!!  My mom and I made 'dinner and shopping plans' but that gave me a WHOLE HOUR before she left work.

I was SO excited and as I left the building and was walking to my car, a co-worker asked me what I was doing-I said, I'm GOING TO CLEAN MY HOUSE for an HOUR!  She looked baffled that I was excited about this, but, anyone who has little kids knows what an hour of cleaning w/o them in the house means-it actually looks like you clean!!!  That statement: "Cleaning your house with kids in it is like brushing your teeth while eating Oreos" is SO true!

I don't think I have ever been that excited to clean and I didn't even get much done.  I cleaned the kitchen THOROUGHLY and picked up toys, throw blankets, decorative pillows, and couch cushions off the floor in the living room.  Started the dishwasher and I was on my way to meet my mom.

How successful I felt when I got home.  We got home too late for the kids to mess up what I had cleaned and all I could do was feel. . . AMAZING! 

Celebrate

            After taking almost the entire day off from work yesterday due to what seemed like the aftermath of being run over by a freight train, I knew I had to pull myself out of bed by 5:30pm to take care of the kiddos since Adam had to go to class. This was quite the task after having non-stop migraines all day, really strange dreams that I’ll never admit to anyone, an incredibly sore throat, and a fever that was causing chills and hot-flashes all at the same time! I had to do it though, it took a little bit of positive self-talk, actually about 40 minutes of positive self-talk, but I finally dragged my sorry looking self out of bed! It wasn’t just the feeling of being run over by a train, the mirror displayed an image that would have scared the devil. In order to get myself through the next couple of hours until bedtime for the kids I broke everything up into 15 minute increments.

5:15pm- Adam arrives home with the kids. Although he had tried to explain to them that I had not been feeling well, a 10 month old and a 3 year old quickly forget that (Not that they really cared anyway). I placed a freezer meal that I had prepared last week in the oven. Hopefully this would be ready in an hour.

5:30pm- Adam tells Benji to take care of me and to be good. He leaves for class that should last from 6-9pm. I lay lifeless in the recliner as Ben stares at Power Rangers on TV and Presley is entertained by the dogs on the other side of the glass slider door.

5:45pm- Ben operating his remote control truck in circles around the living room. Presley crawling in circles chasing the truck. Me…still lifeless in the recliner.

6:00pm- Out of the chair finally. Presley is STARVING, as usual, and starting to fuss. Apparently 15 minutes of crawling in circles chasing a remote control truck makes a girl hungry. I get plates, bowls, cups, silverware ready for the chicken alfredo that we were about to enjoy. Ben tells me he doesn’t like food and does not want to eat.

6:15pm- Dinner finally ready. Presley begins to eat everything on her tray until she spots the dogs sitting on either side of her high chair impatiently awaiting her to drop something. She decides to feed them, and then laughs every time they would take food out of her hand. In the state that I’m in, this is incredibly annoying. Ahh, dogs are put outside. Ben still screaming, “I DON’T LIKE FOOD. I DON’T NEED TO EAT.” I try to eat, thinking that maybe some food would give me a little energy.

6:30pm- Presley is back to feeding herself after the dogs are out of sight. She eats a second helping. Ben hesitantly comes to look at his plate that I’ve prepared for him. “I DON’T LIKE THOSE THINGS. I DON’T LIKE THAT EXTRA SAUCE ON MY PLATE. I DON’T LIKE PEAS.”  The food that I had eaten did not give me any extra energy and I did not want to fight with a 3-year-old tonight. Thinking that I could bribe him, I said, “If you do not eat dinner, you will not be able to watch tv later.” He didn’t care, “I don’t want to watch tv anymore.” I felt defeated.

6:45pm- By now, and I’m not sure what made it happen, but Ben had taken 2 bites of the food that he didn’t need, and a few bites of pineapple chunks that I had found in the fridge from the night before. Presley was finished, cleaned up, and ready to have pajamas put on her. Once again…no energy for bath time tonight…don’t judge.

7:00pm- Ben puts his pajamas on, watches tv. Presley is taken upstairs to read books and be in bed by 7:30. I’m feeling so thankful that our kiddos go to bed so early.

7:30pm- Benji taken to his bedroom to read books and be to bed by 8. Only 1 book tonight, I’m pretty sure that with the migraine I was having my eyes were completely crossed because I could barely focus on the large print words in the book he had picked out.

7:45pm-CELEBRATE! And by celebrate, I mean…back to the recliner, lifeless. Everyone was asleep. Dogs, kids, and soon to follow…me.

 

            Those were definitely the longest 2 hours and 15 minutes that I’ve had in a very long time. Funny how the times we want to slow down never do, and the times we really NEED to speed up, also never do!

 

Our new dog food

            I was feeling a little guilty about being a very irresponsible pet owner today. When I woke up this morning and began the morning routine of filling the dog bowls and leading them to their kennel, I realized that I was completely out of dog food. I couldn’t let my two fur-babies be hungry all day, so I ravaged the fridge seeking something for them. Yes, I know it’s not good to feed dogs human food, but my brain was lacking caffeine at that moment and I justified my decision by convincing myself that human food is better for dogs than utter STARVATION! I gave them each 2 brats. I don’t like brats, and I’m sure when my husband realizes that the pack of 6 brats is down to 4 he’ll be a little upset, but I figured this was better than leftover tater-tot casserole, after all brats are made of some sort of meat I think and dogs naturally thrive on meat…not tater tots. Anyway, after this predicament had finalized and my morning carried on as usual, I headed to work after dropping the kids off at daycare. The entire way to work I obsessed about what kind of dog food to buy. I’ve bought the very expensive brands that claim to be all natural, and I’ve bought store brands…and if you ask me, they eat all of it at the same speed and poop the exact same amount. I tossed this around in my head on and off all day, ridiculous I know. (As I’ve said before...people around me would probably appreciate it if I were medicated) I asked my friends what they fed their dogs, I researched dog food on the internet, and then after while I couldn’t take much more obsession about dog food. I put in a request to leave work early and headed to the store…for dog food. My boss thought I was crazy and assured me that the type of food I’ve been feeding my dogs is probably just fine, but in turn I assured her that I HAD TO LEAVE! (You’re probably asking where exactly this story is going, but please bear with me.) After arriving at the store and placing a bag of the store brand dog food in my cart, and then turning around and placing it back on the shelf only to find another brand to put into my cart, and eventually returning to the isle to exchange it, I realized that I will one day I will become the crazy lady on the street with 36 dogs, 14 inbred cats, and 2 parakeets in a one bedroom house. If you’re wondering, I ended up with Purina Naturals for my dogs and cats…and a bag of the only kind of rabbit food the store carried for my two bunnies. I rushed toward home, picked up the kids from daycare, drove to our house, pulled out leftover tater-tot casserole which Ben wouldn’t eat because “it has white stuff touching it” for dinner, and then went to feed the dogs. They were excited and pleased with my choice of new food. After the kids finished dinner, and playtime outside was over, we returned to the house for bath time. This was short-lived tonight, neither of the kids had patience to be cleansed. I lifted Presley out of the tub, let her have a few minutes of “nakey time” while getting Benji out of the tub. I came back out to the living room to see Mason, our puggle, licking the carpet. Then I smelled something unpleasant. And then, when I went to put Presley’s diaper on her I found the residue of the poop she’d apparently dropped on the floor during naked time. Apparently this happened in the 3.8 seconds that I had stepped away to get Benji out of the tub, and within that same amount of time, the dog found his dessert. I don’t often say omg, but OMG! Next time I won’t obsess too much about the brand of dog food I buy, evidently they’re happy with the kind that my children make.

This is Mason...our puggle.