Please Tell Me This Is Normal

What is Funny, Is that It was Necessary

Actual message left by me to my house this morning:

"Connor:  do not even THINK about leaving the house without underwear today.  You have to wear underwear to your basketball game....Tim, please double check and make sure he has them on before you guys leave the house.  Thanks, bye."

What Happened to that Tip Line Number?

So, today....I'm going about my business and flip on over to msnbc.com to check out 'real' news.  (i.e. stuff I don't catch either on facebook or twitter), and what do I see, but this:

 

And I about die laughing.  And my husband is all...what is going on.  And I can't even breathe, I am laughing so hard, so I find it very hard to articulate why this is so funny.  But seriously....

I don't know if any of you know Randy, but we've been friends since college.  He used to do the morning show with my husband and I used to wake him up when he snored to loudly in all our COM classes.  His family and our family has remained friends since and have worked together on various web ventures throughout the years.  But apparently, he failed to mentioned that he was a terrorist.  

Seriously, ya'll.

Is this a Halloween costume gone wrong?  Or is finding employment in radio really just that bad that you need a second job?  Inquiring minds want to know, Streu.  

I mean, I knew you weren't happy with the way government was headed, but I think this may perhaps be taking things just a little too far. 

Hee.  This will keep me laughing for a long time.

Karma is cold, yo

I remember a time long ago in the days of our parental innocence when our beautiful, sweet, adoring niece Emmalynn was a two-year-old tornado of terror. Jeff and I would present an empathetic ear to her poor, tortured parents while simultaneously trying to hold back our giggles that would inevitably be biting to get out. Later we would hold our teeny tiny miracle that was our newborn, and we would laugh and talk about just how funny that particular antic had been, and how incredibly relieved we were that we were not her parents. 

It turns out payback really is about as nice as they say.

Peyton has turned into a mini-Emmy.

In the last two weeks, she has had an explosion of discovery and self-sufficiency.  And to make matters worse, creativity seems to strike in the wee hours of the morning when Mommy and Daddy are out cold.

Examples:

Nov. 1: Yeah. Halloween candy*? Everywhere. Wrappers strewn about the apartment, half-eaten suckers adorned the furniture, and one chocolate-y faced wake up call.  After surveying the damage, I asked her why she had been so naughty that morning. Her response? "It was ax-dent, Mommy." As in, I couldn't help it, Mommy, all of these candies just jumped out of their wrappers, and I did everything I could to clean it up for you.

 

   *Halloween candy was not put up due to an overly trusting and forgetful Daddy

Two weeks ago: Potty training is a no-go, but the squirt does not appreciate a poopy diaper.  Immediately upon filling said diaper, she rushes off to get naked in another room and then brings the offending mess in for us to clean up. After about the third day of this, any silence longer than 30 seconds is immediately investigated. As a result, when you are not in the room, Peyton loudly asks, "Mooooommy!!! What are you doing out there?"

Last week: Child decided that she wanted to wash her hair. Found her covered in baby shampoo. In our bed. Not a fun discovery.

Also last week: Peyton decided that she wanted to brush her teeth.  Panicked Mommy woke up to her crawling into bed, with a look of extreme satisfaction, saying, "Mommy! Mommy! I... *urp* brushed my teeth!! *urp* Mommy? *points at urp* What's that? *urp*"

*This lead to the purchase of handy baby-proof doorknobs that she has yet to be able to work out a solution to. Key word: Yet.

Monday: Awoken to child running into our room, shouting, "POTATO! POTATO! POTAAAAAAAAAAAATO SANDWICH!" Went out to living room to discover that she had pushed down the gate to the kitchen to find not only two potatos, but also two slices of bread that would serve as the basis for her potato sandwich.  When asked if the sandwich was good, she replied, "No, mommy. Was yucky. I want eggies.  Peeeeeas."

Wednesday: Apparently the coffee table was not clean enough for her particular needs, so she got into the kitchen to get a bottle of dish soap.  She then proceeded to dump the entire contents (estimated at approximately 3/4 of a bottle) onto the table.  Woke up to an overwhelming smell of soap, and found a nice toilet-seat-shaped of bright blue soap that had made it to the floor. Our carpet? Still blue. Not to mention Mountain Fresh.

This morning: Hungry once again, she pushed down the gate leading to the kitchen to get Daddy's cereal and a (dirty) bowl she found in the sink.  Woke up to the tinkling of cereal hitting the coffee table, and then after calling Peyton into our room (first answered with "What are you doing in there,  Mommy?"), she let us know that she needed a spoon.  Jeff went out to assess the damage, and came back to inform me of the specifics.  I told Peyton that she was a little girl, and if she needed help making breakfast she needed to ask Mommy because Mommy is a big girl, and that it was not something that little girls were supposed to do on their own.

    Her response?

    "Daddy is a little girl, Mommy. A big one."

Some days, the naughty is so worth it.

SYTYCD - Week One

So, this is one of my most favorite shows. And my daughter digs it too. What I think is funny, though, is the dances that she does like. I thought it would be a fun feature on this here blog of mine to do a review each week on this show based on our opinions. Because, frankly, the opinions of a four year old ballerina are quite enlightening and funny.

So, without further ado….this week’s SYTYCD review.

Four

Dear Emmy,

Today you turn four years old.  I don’t recall ever giving you permission to get so old.  But if I’ve learned anything in these four short years as your mother, its been that you could care less about what I give you permission to do.  You are your own person, thank you very much, and will do as you like.  Permission or not. 

This has led to pretty much what you’d expect: you spend a lot of your life getting disciplined and dealing with the consequences.  But you are a tough, tough cookie, girl.  This year you have definitely learned to pick your battles in life and humor mommy and daddy with obedience.  For this, I thank you.  But I tell you what – I can see it in your eyes.  Even when you do give in.  You are the strongest person I have ever met.  You have a will of iron.  Someday, I’m pretty sure, you will rule the world.

This year, you have definitely turned into a girly girl.  Dressing up is like your most favorite activity in the entire universe and you do it constantly.  And you love nothing more than having a “girl’s night” in which we do nails and hair and makeup and watch musicals.

 
Musicals happen to be your most favorite movie.  Your favorite this year was Oklahoma and you know every single word to every song by heart.  And sing them at the top of your lungs, with such drama and flair that it never fails to make me laugh.  You also enjoy Seven Brides for Seven Brothers and every single Disney Princess movie to feature singing ever made.   You love anything princess, especially if it involves a pretty dress.

 
You sing continuously.  All the time.  You are constantly making up songs about every single thing in life and sing them from room to room.  You are so full of such…I don’t know…life, I guess.  You are so out there, so ‘on’ all the time.  You are constantly making faces or saying funny things or just being your dramatic, loud self.  You are a spunky character.

This year has also brought the attitude.  You know just what buttons to push and do so already.  You hurt with your words, and man, even for four, they cut deep, girl.  And I swear to God, I love you with my life, darling, but if you tell me that you hate me and I’m the meanest mommy in the world one more time, I’m going to side with your Daddy on the you’re-not-dating-until-you-are-30 business and you will rue the day that those words left your mouth. 

You are still a great eater, and just love food like no preschooler before you ever has.  You like the unique and weird and are definitely a “foodie” like your daddy.  This year, you had crab legs in the shell for the first time and I think you about died of pleasure.  Crab is now your most favorite food ever, but you also like other unique and weird things.  I’m pretty sure you’d try just about anything and would love it if it was prepared well. 

This year has been a rough one for our family.  And for that, I’m sorry sweetie.  Words can not even begin to express just how sorry I am for what  you’ve had to live through this year.  Its not fair and its not right.  If its any consolation, you’ve peed in the bed with me sleeping next to you several times this year.  And when you colored over all the walls in your room with a crayon, I didn’t kill you.  You’re welcome. 

What I want you to know, sweets, though is that I love you so very much.  You kept me going more times than you’ll probably ever know.  You are such a sweet girl and I will never forget the times you snuggled me as I laid in bed, crying.  You would rub my back with your chubby little hands and say “Oh, Momma.”  You would give me mouches and pat my head.  You mothered me this year.

I love you so much, my beautiful baby girl.  Thank you so much for being a part of our lives.  For entertaining us daily by just being you. 

If I could bottle you up and keep you at this age forever, I’m pretty sure I would do it in a heartbeat.  But I’m pretty sure you’d bust out of that bottle in two seconds flat.  You are a force to be reckoned with, that can not be stopped. 

Just promised your Mommy that someday, when you rule the world?  We’ll still go shopping.

I love you, goober.

 

Your Momma. 

P.S.  Your momma made this real cool video of your last year just for you.  It has music and pictures and video of your entire last year.  It took me weeks.  Stupid Microsoft Movie Maker will not save this into a normal file.  I have tried all morning.  It is being obnoxious.  So instead of sitting her playing with it, I'm taking you to lunch.  Because I'm done with it.  DONE!  Okay, not really.  If I have to sick you on Microsoft to make it happen, we will get this saved.  Just not today.  Today is a day to celebrate.

Friends Forever

Last night I got a call from an old friend.  Well, not an “old” friend, I mean goodness, we aren’t old yet, are we?  No, I mean the type of friend that you have known just forever.  The kind of friend that you rolled your jeans with, and cruised the mall with, and stayed up late talking about boys with.  My very best friend.  We experienced high school and college together.  We experienced boyfriends and breakups and growing up together.  Better yet, she loved God with everything that she had.  We kept each other accountable.  We fought when either one of us did something stupid and ill-advised.  But we were always friends.

Life has interfered with this friendship.  Distance, husbands, children and other obligations have made it hard to maintain. 

She called last night after reading this post.  In tears.  And you know what?  Still the very best of friends.  Talking to her was just the best.  The very best thing.  We just kind of picked up where we left off and…it was just great.

One of the things that I have learned this past year is that I need a support system.  I need people in my life who love and care for me.  I can’t do this on my own.  God didn’t design us to navigate this life on our own.  I need to stop shutting people out and do a better job at maintaining my friendships.

I have many, many people in the world who would be there for me in a heartbeat.  I didn’t reach out to any of them when I should have. 

We need our peeps.  We need them to pray for us and with us.  We need their love and encouragement.

So, today – that is my challenge to you.  Call someone that you’ve been meaning to call.  Ask them what you can pray for them in their life.  It doesn’t matter if you haven’t talked to them in ages.  Trust me, they will be glad to hear from you.  And you will be glad that you made the call.

Of Failure and Forget

So, I have a new idea to keep myself a bit disciplined in my spiritual life.  Before I get online for the day, even just to check my email or whatever, I have to have done my devos.  If I have time to get on facebook, I have time to spend with God. 

This is like the most simple thing ever, I’m not sure why it never occurred to me and I’m sure a million of you (ha!  Like that many people will read this!) are probably already going….”Um, yeah…tell me something new.”  But seriously, people…this has never even crossed my mind before.  And when it happened this morning as I was beginning to pull my laptop onto my lap, if you were here, I swear to you that you might have seen the lightbulb literally go off over my head.  It was that kind of revelation. 

And I’m so excited about this!  Because this is something I can keep up with.  It’s not such and such time every day that I can never hit and never make because life ALWAYS interferes. 

Anyways, now that I’ve shared what an idiot I am, let me expound on that and tell you what God has been teaching me this week.  To sum:  a lot.  A lot of a lot.  This has been a big week for me, spiritually.  I think I was finally in a place where God could teach me some things and I feel…just…happy.  Do you know how long it has been since I said something like that?  Oh, a long, long time.

So, in my small Bible study group, we are working through a study of David.  The man after God’s own heart.  And it has been so good.  So, so good.  This week, in particular.  It was about relating to God after failure. 

If anyone has known about what is going on in my life, this past year has been riddled with failures on my part.  Great, big, giant, humongous failures. 

And it was like a snowball rolling down a hill, these failures.  They just picked up steam, lost control, and before you know it:  catastrophe. 

This is a long, long story.  So, click on, if you dare. 

Politicians and Marketing Geniuses Just Love Me Now

This week, I became a cliché.  This week, I became *gasp* a soccer mom.   I know, right? 

We have entered into a whole new world, I feel.  Gone are the days of breastfeeding and bottles and babyfood and smelling of spoiled milk like ALL THE TIME.  Gone are the diapers and the toddler tantrums and the coloring on the walls with permanent marker.  Gone is the potty training and sippy cups and naptime. 

It’s like all of a sudden, I blinked, and holy cow….soccer mom.  Life is now school drop-offs and pick-ups and playdates and ballet class, or soccer games. 

The high chairs are all gone.  No more potty seats.  No more toddler beds.

My kids are….kids.  Who allowed them to grow up already?

I remember thinking that I just couldn’t wait to get to this stage.  Especially, when Emmy was doing something especially naughty.  Or when I was changing diapers.  I could not wait to get to this stage.

And don’t get me wrong.  I was in the height of joy watching my little ballerina in her first dance class this week.  That is something that I knew that we would share since I first saw her on the ultrasound. 

And watching Connor fling himself through the air to block a goal in soccer?  Awesome.  My pride runneth over. 

It’s just…I don’t know.  We got here so fast.  So all of a sudden. 

Wasn’t it just yesterday that we were bringing them home from the hospital?

I feel like I’m still adjusting to even being a mom, let alone a soccer mom.  That sounds so very grown up.  Wait, I’m totally a grown up now, aren’t I?  Oh, criminy.  Who let that happen?

Beta Testing

Hey there, internets. Remember me? I still exist.

Shocker, I know.

I guess I should begin by announcing the newest member of the family, Codename: Beta.

 So, remember that post I had, venting my frustration at my trigger-happy husband who was quick to point out every moment I had an ounce of nausea or was a wee bit sleepy at two in the afternoon?

Of course, the moment I chose to blog about it, he ends up being right. Word to the wise: Before you go snarking on your husband in any form of online media, especially one that he is capable of finding to have proof that he was somehow miraculously right, cover your bases. Pee on the stick before posting. You don't want to give your husband that upper hand to have physical, tangible evidence that he was right. He won't forget that kind of thing overnight. Or in three months, apparently. Learn from my mistakes. You're welcome.

So, six (yes, SIX) days later, while my husband was having his weekly nerdfest/geek invitational/Dungeons and Dragons game night, I get bored and decide to go to Walmart. Still thinking about the constant barrage of questions I'd been receiving that week, I decide, "What the heck. I'll get a test, prove him wrong, and giggle at him."

I'm going to interupt this minor flashback for a brief aside on buying pregnancy tests at a small town Walmart. It sucks. EVERYONE KNOWS EVERYBODY. On a trip to procure the test, it is guaranteed that one will run into at least three people that one knows, and each of these three people will insist on discussing recent happenings in one’s life, all the while one nervously chatters and hides the telling box in the crook of one’s arm (BTW, whose bright idea was it to clearly mark “Pregnancy Test” on all the sides of the stupid box? No discretion. NONE. You would think they would have the courtesy to at least make one side say something more subtle, like, ‘NOT a pregnancy test’).

Anyway, by the time I got out of Walmart, I had started to wish I had just found some one with a spare rabbit that I could have 'borrowed'. Maybe more messy, but much less painful. For me.

Once I got home, I proceeded to take the test, and, once again, instead of waiting the full three minutes like most are supposed to to see the tiny wee second line, it pops out immediately, mocking me with it's bold proclamation of HEY LADY YOU IZ PREGNANT.

I can't say exactly what I said at the time, but I'm pretty sure it sounded like, "Oh, @#%*"

I didn't really handle it all that well.

And of course, I can't barge in on 'game night' because they were all, "I'm going to stab the lizard guy with my ice sword!" and "You can't do that, you have to prepare your weapon!" and "I DID prepare my weapon and it's only a half-action!"

It's a little overwhelming.

So I waited til the next morning to inform the Jeff of the mini-Jeff that's now growing, and regrettably he remembered the blog post. And immediately pulled it up.

And he giggled, and giggled, and giggled.

It Sounds So Easy

So,  I have a question for you, dear internet.  HOW DO YOU GET YOUR CHILDREN TO GO TO SLEEP AT NIGHT.  And, yes, I realize this is something I should have figured out long ago, seeing as how my oldest is now, um, (gulp) six and all, but seriously?  I suck at this part of parenting.

In the old house, the kids had TVs and VCRs in the room and would just watch a movie and fall asleep.  We realized that this was setting a bad precedent and during the move, moved the TVs out of their rooms.  But now?  They will not go to sleep on their own.

It will be, like midnight, and they will still be awake.  Still coming down the stairs every two to three minutes for “just one more drink” or “I have to go potty” or “I’m scared;  I think I saw Swiper the fox.”  And it never ends.  Finally, when I’m ready to lose it, one or both of us goes up there and lays down with them and within 30 seconds they are out and you can sneak out.  But it is a horrible evening all around.

The alternative is to start off by laying down with them and then leaving, but that also kills your whole evening and before you know it its ten o clock before you get both kids finally to sleep. 

Considering I’m with them from the moment they get up in the morning until the moment they go to sleep at night that makes for a very long day and a very worn out mommy.

So, how do you do it?  How does it work in your house?  Can I copy you?  I promise, I won’t tell!