He'll be the boss

The speed at which children learn has always fascinated me. They typically learn to eat within minutes, they learn to communicate their needs through crying within hours of birth, they learn to smile, to play, to walk....and to manipulate, one of the most important skills of childhood, and then they learn about money. Well, they learn about the idea of money. Most of the time, Ben is convinced that every day that I go to work I come home with a pocket full of cash. And then trying to explain a check or a credit card to a 4 year old, impossible.

Teenage Mutant "Minja" Turtles have been a recent obsession for Ben. Turtle shirts, masks, underwear, "minja" turtle action figures, and begging to paint the bathroom green...and then begging for turtle toys. Perfect time to learn about earning money, right? Adam thought so. He told Ben that he could earn $1 if he cleaned his bedroom and helped Presley clean hers. We're all about cheap labor around here! Anyway, he agreed, the rooms were in excellent condition after about 1/2 hour, and he insisted on showing Adam and me the rooms....then he attempted a negotiation for $2 because it looked so nice! (He didn't win the negotiation, but E for Effort!) After this he begged to do some more chores to earn more money, we insist he use the word "earn" rather than "get" in our home...we also insist he grow up self-sufficient and not on public assistance! Anyway, Adam told him that if he cleaned up the main floor of our house (picked up his own toys) he could earn some more money. As you can imagine, this didn't go as easily or eagerly as the first $1 earned went! After a few minutes of crying and attempting to argue his point about how he should have "gotten" $2 for cleaning two rooms upstairs, he came up with another strategy. Now, I have to commend my little man, I forsee a high paying career in which he is definitely the boss.

Ben: "Mommy, Daddy said if I clean the downstairs he will give me more money."
Me: "Buddy, Daddy said if you clean the downstairs you can earn more money."
Ben: "Yeah, so I need you to clean the downstairs for me."
Me: "I'm not sure that's how it works, Bud, but nice try! You can clean up if you want the money."

Four years old and he's got the skill of delegation down! I didn't do it for him, nor did he do it...nor did he earn another $1.

Current balance to purchace a "minja" turtle: $1
This may take a while!

I'm Awake!

It's inevitable, your kids start to become independent, things seem to fall into place, you feel caught up on sleep after what seems like approximately four years of exhaustion...and you think you want another baby. And then you're reminded why life may just be simpler with two...or not.

Ever have one of those nights where it just seems that sleep isn't in the cards? I'm positive that I saw every single hour on our bedroom clock. The dogs bark, I'm awake. Husband snores...I'm awake. Presley visit #1, I'm awake...she just came down stairs to ask if she could be carried back to her bed. Logical. One hour later, Presley visit #2, I'm awake...came downstairs to ask to sleep with me, Adam's turn to get up, but of course I'm STILL awake because:

"MOMMMMMMY!"
"MOOOMMMMMMYYYY!"
"DON'T WANT DADDY...MOMMMMY...."

and on and so forth...

And after that calmed down, we found ourselves asleep yet again..until Presley visit #3, standing next to my bed staring at me holding a bottle of Sunny D (original flavor in case you were wondering) and a cup.

Me: "What on earth are you doing?"
Presley: "Juice."
Me: "No. Why do you have juice?"
Presley: "Want to drink."
Me: "IT IS BEDTIME."
Presley: "Juice."

Another trip up the stairs wasn't happening, I settled for plopping her on the couch. Sounds simple, but it wasn't...in the process of digging through the cupboards, and strategically placing a chair by the cupboards to reach her favorite cup, and then making her way back into my bedroom with a gallon of juice in hand, she lost her blanket. Obviously there is NO WAY for a 2 year old to sleep without her "buddy." It wasn't in her bed, it wasn't in my bed, it wasn't on the couch, and it wasn't by the floor. Mother of the year, right here, left her crying on the couch...eventually she fell back to sleep. And in the morning as I woke up and got myself around for work
, and watched the little precious sound asleep on the couch, I found the "buddy." It was by the fridge, obviously!

And then when you ask her about it this is what she does...

Because I Want To

Most days I wake up just in time to feel rushed, then I go to work and typically feel rushed, then rush home to pick up the kiddos from daycare, then rush to make dinner, then if we're lucky they get a very rushed letter or number teaching lesson for the night, then some rushed baths...and finally a rush to bed, and if time allows...a quick book or two. After kid bedtime rolls around, it's a rush to get the kitchen cleaned from dinner and the dishwasher started, and then...maybe a favorite TV show or two, then to bed only to begin my very rushed days all over again. In case you're wondering, I have plopped the kids in front of a movie and am rushing through this blog...sometimes TV NEEDS to be a babysitter for my own sanity (I was the perfect parent who swore off TV babysitting...until I actually had children of my own...don't judge.)

So, Why the rush? Because I want to. I wake up in the mornings and WANT to give my kids something other than processed foods for breakfast, so I cook...or prepare the morning meal. I rush home from work most days to pick my kids up...because I WANT to. Daycare from 7 AM-4 PM is plenty long enough for me to feel that my kids are getting too much parenting from people other than myself. Dinner, much like breakfast, is something that I feel is important. Afterall, it is the last "gasoline" they will be putting into their bodies for approximately 12 hours, it should be good gasoline, so my husband and I do our best to "home make" most meals (No, I don't hand roll my pastas or make all of my own sauces...my definition of "homemade" may be different than yours, get over it!) And after dinner, why work on lessons the kids should be learning at school? You guessed it, because I WANT to. I do believe that both of my kids (preschool ages) get wonderful care and education at their daycare center/school, but when they grow up to be Doctors, Lawyers, or the President of the United States, I want to be able to feel proud that I was part of their first class education! And why rush to clean the house...well, to be honest, that was a lie before, that's typically the very last thing that is accomplished in my house...and it's not uncommon to go to bed with a sink of dishes, or a load of laundry that needs to be done...oh well.

Nonetheless, everything else feels like a rush...most of the time because I WANT it to, but sometimes because I'm one of those people that struggle to balance my life priorities. It's difficult to admit that one part of my life isn't as good as the next, or in other words...one part fails in order to excell at another. Perfect mom...crappy wife. Stellar employee...tired mom. Regular gym member...kids "live" at daycare for an extra 1-2 hours. Great teacher to my kids....horrendous housekeeper! I've come to the conclusion that those people on facebook that post all of their excellence are LYING! Focusing on one or two things to perfect in my life is ENOUGH...and I use the term "perfect" very loosely! So, next time you're in the neighborhood, please stop by and join us for a homecooked meal, but don't expect that the table will be free of crumbs when you sit down or the dishes will be washed when we're finished!

A day to remember...

            October 21^st, 2013…a day to remember. My morning began with a quick decision to pull a U-Turn on the highway to reroute to Biggby. I’ve recently fallen in love with the Peppermint Tea Latte, one of my many guilty pleasures. I pull up to the drive-thru…

Me: “Can I have a peppermint tea latte please, grande?”

Biggby girl: “I’m sorry we’re out of mint.”

Me: “Umm, okay, I will have a Salted Carmel latte.”

Biggby girl: “Oh my gosh, we’re completely out of that too.”

Me: “Uh, wow, is this your first day? Umm…I’ll have the…uhhh…Cinnamon Spice latte please.”

Biggby girl: “Oh, I’m sooo sorry, we are out of that too. I’ll make you your drink for free.”

Me: “Mocha latte.”

And then I drive up to the window with a scowl on my face.

Biggby girl: “Sorry for the confusion, did you say peppermint tea latte? We have that. You can have both drinks, no charge.”

And my wonderful day began! My body would be full of artificial flavorings and lots of caffeine, just the way I like it! I arrived at work early (unusual for me) and the door was held for me, the caffeine allowed me to actually get some work done not daydream about a nap all morning, and everyone around me seemed more chipper than usual for a dreary Monday morning. Maybe I was just more chipper, probably the caffeine. Anyway, my day progressed quickly, also unusual in my line of work, and a lunch date was in the works with Mr. Wonderful. Adam had asked me to meet at a locally owned restaurant, purely out of his curiosity regarding the sign out front asking, “Who is John Galt?” But nonetheless, a midday date with my husband is a rarity so I’m always up for good food, good company, and NO KIDS!  Lunch went well, Adam told me that he planned on cleaning the house today when he got home…COULD THINGS GET ANY BETTER TODAY? It’s the small things that rock my world! Two free drinks from the coffee shop and my husband cleaning my house?  Like I said, a day to remember!

After lunch, I headed back to work. Surprisingly the second half of the day flew by just like the first and I was headed home. As I walked in the door with the kids, the smell of freshly grilled steak put another smile on my face! Dinner was fabulous, the kids actually ate, nobody cried all night, and Mr. Wonderful even set and cleared the table! Anyone thinking twilight zone? The curtains had been taken down throughout the house and washed, not a single kid toy could be seen, laundry was all washed, the sink was empty…I may be dreaming! Eventually, or maybe before dinner, it’s all a bit of a blur (probably still the caffeine) I walked into our bathroom to see our large over the sink mirror so cloudy that I looked like a ghost as I tried to see myself. I asked Adam what had happened to the mirror, I had just cleaned it two days ago.

Adam: “I don’t know, I used your green cleaner and it streaked everything up.”

Me: “My green cleaner? What’s that?”

Adam: “That green cleaner you made.”

So I found the bottle of “green cleaner.” The bottle had some green on it, which must be where the “green cleaner” came from, and yes, I had made the contents…but it was not cleaner, it was fabric refresher. Essentially, homemade Febreze, sprayed all over the counters, sinks, and mirrors! Contents included fabric softener, baking soda, and of course water, nothing too harmful, but definitely not glass cleaner! And…no  more twilight zone! Don’t’ worry, my day was still wonderful…he went back and re-washed the mirror, it’s sparkling now!

 

Excuse me please...

It was one of those days, one where you hope that your children (and husband) come down with a sudden allergic reaction to the cat only so you can give them Benadryl and not feel guilty about it. A nice little nap for everyone else in the family would have done mommy a little good. I realize that sometimes it’s just not in the stars to have any time for myself, but a little time to clean the kitchen or wipe down the bathroom sinks would have been great.  Our day started a little late when after a late breakfast, Adam decided that 11:30 AM would be a great time to begin our regular Sunday journey to Menards. I warned him…I pleaded with him…”Maybe we should wait until after lunch and naps to go to the store? I knew pulling the kids out of their normal routine of lunch at noon then naps to follow was a perfect recipe for a disastrous trip to town. You may be wondering about Adam’s response to my plea…. “I’m sick of planning our lives around the kids’ schedules. We can go now.” I tried to be positive, and out the door we went.

Needless to say, our trip was horrendous. Portions of this trip included Adam and I splitting up in the store, each with a kid in tow, racing through the store to get everything that was on the list that I had lost somewhere during the time I had to run back to the car to get a towel to clean Ben and Presley off after they spilled their drink all over themselves in the cart. Oh, and a fabulous trip to the public restroom only to find that we were a few skidmarks too late and Benji’s Superhero themed underwear had to be taken off and stored in a spare pocket inside my purse. (I remember when my purses didn’t have pockets…miss this!) After our necessities were paid for, we raced home…the speed limit is 55?

We tried to feed the kiddos a late lunch, unsuccessful. Presley screamed, cried, exactly what 2 year olds do when they are BEYOND tired. While Adam fell asleep on the couch, Benji filled up on some lunch, I tried to calm Presley.  Keep in mind I have no patience left and if it was acceptable I would have locked myself inside my imaginary soundproof bedroom and watched Keeping up with the Kardashian’s for the rest of the day…alone. I hear this isn’t acceptable as a parent…so I trudged on. I changed Presley, carried her up the stairs and began to sing her sleep time song (Twinke Twinkle Little Star)…and then it happened. I felt something under my foot. I lifted up my foot, still singing, and looked at the human feces that was smeared all over the bottom of my foot and the carpet of her bedroom. OMG! So, that’s why she came downstairs this morning carrying her diaper. She took it off to poop on her floor, and for me to step in. I think this was premeditated.

Excuse me please, for I need to go wash the poop off of my foot.

Thanks Dad

Thanks Dad. Thanks for never taking a day off work. Thanks for making me proud of our last name. Thanks for the road trips. Thanks for teaching me how to play shortstop. Thanks for being so critical of my driving. Thanks for letting me ride on the back of your motorcycle and thanks for teaching me how to ride my own motorcycle. Thanks for taking me to work with you on ‘Take your Child to work day.” Thanks for the many lectures of clouds types and evaporation. Thanks for saying, “You look beautiful” on the night you escorted me for homecoming court. Thanks for loving my mom.

While at work recently, I met with a child and asked all sorts of questions about his home life, school life, and listened while this bright young man talked. My meetings with young children always end with me saying, “I’ve asked you a lot of questions and listened to everything you wanted to say, now do you have any questions that you would like to ask me?” Usually the kids say “no” and the meeting ends shortly after, however this young man answered “Yes.” He asked me a question that tugged on my heartstrings and has left me consumed with the thought of how lucky I have been throughout my entire life. He asked, “Did you grow up with a Dad in your house?” Of course, my rules during these meetings with children are that we can only talk about the truth, so I answered honestly, “Yes, I did.” And then, while looking down at his shoes, he asked, “Was it fun?” Again, I answered, “Yes, it was.” And the meeting was ended. Just two simple questions from a 9 year old and my thoughts have been consumed by those few simple words. He was one of those children that was smart enough to know what he had missed out on, and even smarter to not dig deeper about what he has missed.

The questions made me want to go hug my dad, however we’re not what you would call a “huggy” family. The questions also made me think about how many children grow up without a father in their homes, and how many children grow up without ever speaking to their father. It seems that my “normal” of being raised in a family with two parents who were married to each other and two older brothers who watched out for me, and a family that still loves each one another is not so normal anymore.

So, Dad, thanks for “normal.” Thanks for mowing my lawn every week. Thanks for buying me a crappy little S-10 that I fell in love with when I was 16. Thanks for rescuing me every time I run out of gas. Thanks for buying me pot-bellied pigs when I was in third grade. Thanks for taking such good care of your parents in their old age. Thanks for being such a good Grandpa to my kids. Thanks for bonding with my husband over a beer, nap, and baseball game in your living room every Sunday. Thanks for being my Dad.

Supervising wood cutting
Spring 2013

 

Who's Your Favorite?

            Yesterday was great, Adam and I got home from work and we had no obligations, no plans, just a night in with the kids. We had a wonderful meal of leftovers that the kids shoved around on their plates for 15 minutes and then we read a few books after dinner. Adam and the kids wrestled, and then we sat on the couch to relax before the kid’s bedtime. We watched tv, the kids played, it really felt like one of those evenings that we will think about some evening when Adam and I become “empty-nesters.”

            Now if any of you know my husband, you would know that EVERYTHING is a competition…and if you know me, you would know that I always win those competitions! Adam enjoys torturing our children by asking them who their “favorite” is and then tickling them until they are gasping for air when the much predicted answer of “mommy” leaves their sweet little lips. Whether they enjoy being tickled or not, it’s obvious who their favorite is…always mommy, a little something that I love more than anything in the world, and another sure fire win in the scorebook of Adam and Jody’s competitions!  Well, I have to say that I was a little shocked when the answer was NOT “mommy” last night.

Adam: “Presley, who’s your favorite?”

Presley: “Mommy!”

Adam: “Ben, who is your favorite?”

Ben: “Bob Seger.”

            Really? Bob Seger? He’s started preschool, he’s a big kid now, he worries about being cool in front of his friends, he can write his name by himself…and Bob Seger is his favorite. My lil boy is growing up and I’m not sure that I’m ready for this! Today Benji was invited to go to a football game with a friend, and then I received a text message from the friend’s mother saying, “Ben doesn’t want to come home yet, can he spend the night?” His first sleep-over! He has leg hair and he FINALLY wipes his own butt. He’s practically a man! As hard as it is, I know that he has to grow up and I have to allow that to occur naturally. At least I still have my lil girl, and I’m definitely still her favorite…for a few more years!



Presley and I got to spend the day together recently, she has no idea who Bob Seger is and I intend to
keep it that way for a little while longer!