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!