More of a Whole Lotta Nothin’

Let’s just get right into it…

1.  I cleaned behind my fridge.  Oh.  ‘Oh’ doesn’t really explain the gross-out factor.  I don’t really know how long it has been since I cleaned back there…  There was a LOT of dust.  Also found under/behind my fridge:

-a dog chew (okay, we haven’t had a dog for over a year now, so it’s been at least 15 months since I cleaned back there.  Did I just say that out loud?  How embarassing.)

-one rock hard fruit snack, in the shape of grapes.  How long does it take fruit snacks to get rock hard? 

-dust

-a pencil

-some broken glass.  

-a yogurt raisin.  Melted and ensconsed in dust. 

-DUST.

2.  The other day around bedtime, I was supervising Henry getting his jammies on.  He has become concerned, as of late, that someone may see him in all his naked cuteness.  The three older kids are constantly trying to peek at each other, and then they taunt each other with things like “I saw Henry’s buns!”  or “woohoo, William is naked.”  So I’m standing there, rubbing my eyes with fatigue, and Henry looks at me, dead serious, and says, “Hey Mom, wanna see my cute buns?”  He’s going to be a charmer, that one. 

3.  Bulb count…I don’t even know.  What I do know is that the builder of this home, in an effort to really really hurt me, put so many rocks in our soil that I can’t even get the shovel down 3 inches without hitting one.  It seriously takes about 5-10 minutes just to dig one tiny little 6 inch bulb hole.  So I had 200 bulbs to plant.  That’s 1000-2000 minutes.  That’s 17-33 hours.  You can see I’m real good with the math.   Anyway, I was going to put the remainder of the bulbs around the last crepe myrtle, but I ran out of room, and somehow I have like 40 or 50 left.  So I guess I’ll put them around the patio in the back.  Part of me wants to scatter them in the woods, so that we’ll have them peeking out of the fallen leaves in the spring.  Wouldn’t that be lovely?  The other part of me wants to chuck ‘em.

4.  Diaramas.  Oh diarama, how I’ve missed thee.  I got to enjoy you this time without the responsibility of actually having to make you.  Okay, so if that were true, why did I feel the pressure?  My second grader had to choose a habitat, and make a diarama to illustrate it.  Okay.  So she chose a desert.  I went to Michael’s, looking for a few little things that we could throw in there.  Did you know they have diarama kits there?  Like, kits that you can make a landscape out of, with water, and rocks and trees and shrubs, flowers, everything…they looked so professional.  I didn’t get a kit, I actually wanted her to work on this a bit.  What happened to glue and tape and paper, clay and stuff you have lying around…and using your imagination?  Sheesh. 

5.  Coasters.  I bought these cute coasters for Halloween.  The are round, black beaded coasters with white beaded crossbones (strictly for Halloween, of course).  Do you want me to tell you how many times per day I pick them up off the floor?  Saturday evening I picked them up three times between supper and bedtime.  That is between 5:30 and 7:00 people.  Ella likes them.  Well, she likes them on the floor apparently.  Because if she sees them on the table, you know, where they’re supposed to be, she comes over and with one swipe flings them on the floor.  I eventually get tired of picking them up and just leave them there.   

6.  Cabinet bumpers.  Do you have these?  You know those little pads that go on the inside of the cabinet to soften the sound the cabinet makes when it closes…so they don’t slam.  Well, it has become Ella’s main purpose in life to remove them.  Can I just tell you how much that slamming sound irritates me?  It’s like nails on a chalk board.  Anyway, she opens a cabinet, peels off the bumper, and brings it to me.  And she does it on purpose, too.  (Can you see a pattern here with her?  When I’m not paying attention to her, she either flings the coasters, or peels off the bumpers, or plays with the unbreakable glass bowls in the cabinet.  Isn’t it now crystal clear that there is a conspiracy among the four children to rob me of my sanity?  I hear them plotting at night…)  So anyway, I had a whole bunch of those bumpers on my counter, about 15 or 16 of them, and I finally decided to glue them all back on.  So I did.  Now we’ll see how long it takes her to realize they’re all back, and rip them all off again.  Today, she has already taken three off. 

7.  There are snowflakes in our forecast.  It is October.  In Virginia.  Virginia is in the south, people.  I have to admit, seeing snowflakes on the forecast actually made me smile. 

8.  Yesterday I bought Kate some new camisoles, since it’s getting so chilly, and you know, snowy and all around here.  I put them in her drawer and when she was getting her jammies on for bed last night, she spotted them and said “Oh, new camisoles, I’ve been longing for new camisoles!”  Really?  Longing?  She is such a sweet little drama queen! 

And there you have it.

Ballerina Toes

Love this picture…

 

Check out more Wordless Wednesday photos at five minutes for mom.

What If

What if I had just one month to live?  How would I live my last 30 days?  It is a question that has been posed by many, but most recently by Genny, and it caused me to stop and think if I’m living my life each day the way I want to.  If I were to die, how would I be remembered?  What things would my children say about me…what would stand out in their minds?  I’m a little afraid of what the answer might be, to be honest.

It has also caused me to think about the way I approach each day, and each task.  Do I grumble, or do I smile as I work?  Lisa at take90west posted about The Invisible Mom-Building Cathedrals, which I think sort of hit the nail on the head.  It was just what I needed to knock myself off of my throne. 

Because my days center around caring for my children, that is what I have chosen to focus my one month on.  And what it comes down to is this:  I would live my last 30 days without obligation, but with love.  While the content of my days would not necessarily change drastically, my attitude toward that content would. 

I would wash, dry, iron and fold their clothes because I love them.  I would put them away, straightening out their drawers, and feel satisfied that my little ones will have clean, warm clothing to wear each day. 

I would cook their meals not as a chore, but as something I could do to nourish the little bodies that house their hearts and minds, because I love them.

I would bake them cookies and I’d watch as the soft, shiney chocolate chips, still warm from the oven, smear on their little hands and their little faces.  And then I’d hug them and kiss them, and not worry too much about the chocolate and the crumbs.   

I would let them stay in the bath a little longer…and I’d even pour them some bubbles…and I wouldn’t get so upset when they splashed a little too much. 

I would stay a little longer in their rooms at night…leave the pots and pans from supper to soak until they were asleep…so that they could slumber in their beds, tucked in their fluffy blankets, and warmed by the time we spend together.  They would know that they are immensely more important to me than a clean kitchen.

I’d turn off this computer.  And I would talk with them more.  I would listen to their stories, and I would tell them some of mine. 

We would take more walks. 

We would pick more flowers. 

We would hold hands, close our eyes and raise our faces to the sun, and take in it’s warmth.

We would jump in more leaf piles. 

We would blow more bubbles.  

We would roast more marshmallows.

We’d drink more hot cocoa. 

We’d snuggle more. 

We’d watch the sunrise together, and we’d watch it set together.  

We would read more books together.

We would pray together.

We’d camp out under the stars.

Then I think they would know the most solemn truth of my life…that I love them with all my heart and soul.  I hope that is what they would remember.  I hope that is what they would say about their mother…

“She loved me more than anything.”

A Breezy Sunny Autumn Day

Went to the pumpkin patch this weekend…I had the delusions again, delusions that I would get some beautiful photos of the kids in the autumn splendor.  We got to the pumpkin patch and, well, have you ever tried to get four young children to sit still, every hair in place, pretend like it’s not breezy and cold, and all simultaneously look at the camera and smile?  Yeah.  So here’s how it went down…

Arrival at the patch…pumpkins aplenty.

Ella was not interested in pictures, she was interested in seeing exactly how many pumpkins she could fit into our wagon. 

 

 

One doesn’t even think about trying to stop her.  Because one’s chances at any good pictures will evaporate at the moment the shrieking begins.

After a quick survey of her work, she seemed satisfied that our wagon was filled to her specifications. 

It was at this point I thought it might be a good time to try to catch a picture or two.  Yeah.

Mmm Hmm.  And it was at this point that I gave up.

And just had fun.

Twelve Years

Today is our twelfth anniversary.  Today we will celebrate the way we normally do…together, nothing fancy, just a nice dinner here, alone.  There will be quiet.  We are at the point now where we don’t need to talk.  We are comfortable with that.  With each other.  We have been together long enough (21 years now) to know that words aren’t always the best way to show our love for one another. 

For us, love is making a big, nice dinner for your husbands birthday.

Cleaning the floors after you forget your wife’s hair appointment and she is forced to cancel it even though she is in desperate need of a haircut…that’s love (or fear, maybe, but let’s go with love).

Letting him go to the game, the one you planned, while you take the screaming redhead back to the cabin where there is no tv to watch the game.  Yep, love indeed.

Filling the wine rack up because you know a little glass of wine (or three) makes 5:00 a little easier on her.  Definitely love.

Nope, we don’t need words.  My mom always said “actions speak louder than words.”  That has never been more apparent than it is now. 

I love you DJ.  Happy Anniversary!

Not the Greatest Day

It started out the same.  Wake up at early o’clock.  Grumpy.  And still sick.  An hour later, the man comes down and tells me that there is no food.  So there’s another errand I need to run today.  I’ll just add it to the list of unaccomplishable things. 

After the man escaped to his nice, long, 45 minute commute-of-happiness-and-quiet in a seated position with a hot cup of coffee, William was in a mood.  Didn’t want to wear his cub scout uniform to school today.  It was “wear your uniform all day” day, so I said he should wear it.  At the bus stop, he proceeded to hang all over me and pull on my clothes, out of nervousness I think (because holy mackerel he might be the only one wearing his uniform).  When I warned him to stop or I would leave, and he didn’t take me seriously, I walked off.  I gave Kate a kiss goodbye and I just left him and Kate there.  There were lots of other moms and kids around, I’m sure they were witnessing the entire thing.  Not that it was that big a deal.  But anyway.  I stood in my driveway and watched them get on the bus and watched that bus drive away and I felt awful.  

I just burst into tears that needed to be cried for a few days now.  All of the stress and frustration of the last week, the exhaustion, the colds, they just finally got to me. 

Then I went inside and looked for something junky to eat.  Because that will help me to feel better, right?  So since we have no food, I grabbed the trail mix and picked out all of the m&ms.  Oh yes I did.  Just like I tell the kids they’re not allowed to do.  And then I ate a handful of junior mints.  Those are only good in moderation. 

Things improved for a while after that.  Ella and I ran a couple of errands, and I actually went to see the doctor.  The real kind.  Not the Queen B kind.  And they asked me why I waited so long to come in. 

You see, here’s what gets me about doctors.  If you don’t wait long enough, they act like you’re wasting their time, and you’re overreacting.  And if you wait too long, they act like you’re an idiot for waiting so long.  Now, okay, I’ll give you that seven weeks is a little too long to wait.  But it’s not exactly like I have a whole huge amount of time with which to do as I please.  No.  I have like a 2 hour window of time, 3 days each week, in which I can make a visit to the doctor.  And that is in lieu of another errand I must run, such as grocery shopping.  So you can see that today, I opted for a doctor-visit instead of groceries.  And now we are still foodless. 

Moving right along.  I picked up Henry, picked up my prescription, and made the fatal error of telling Henry not to let Ella fall asleep on the way home.  She fell asleep.  Goodie.  So naptime was a little tricky.

Then the other two got home. 

And so began the whole ordeal of snack, homework, bathroom, changing into baseball stuff, don’t wake up the baby, stop whining, etc.  That can just really take it out of you, let me tell you.  Not that there was that much left to take out at that point.  Kate, bless her heart, she knows when Mommy is grumpy and she was a sweet little angel today. 

Then to top it all off, I’ve got a swollen taste bud on my tongue.  Those things are the worst.  And there is just pretty much nothing you can do about it.  And there is nothing more to say about that.

And really I’m tired of complaining, so I’m going to go, take my medicines, and go to bed.  Tomorrow will most surely be a better day.

Wordless Wednesday

 

Ella and Jellycat. 

For more Wordless Wednesday photos, visit Five Minutes for Mom!

Issue #3, Tidbits of Me

I’m here again with little of the magnitude that would warrant an entire post, but a couple of interesting little things…

1.  I went shopping for jeans the other day.  It has literally been years since I’ve had a pair of jeans that fits and is flattering.  Jeans are, like, my favorite wardrobe item.  So it has been a difficult time in the jeans department.  Okay, so went to the GAP, where they have a style called curvey.  And I found a size 0 (as in ZERO) in curvey.  Curvey size zero.  Isn’t that an oxymoron?  Oh, and no, that’s not my size.

2.  Remember the frog?  His new name is Beanstix.  Not as original as you might think.  Eight years ago we were given a baby toy and it’s name was Beanstix Fwoggy.  I never liked the “fwoggy” part, because I didn’t think they should be encouraging children to mispronounce words.  Miss high and mighty was I.  Anywho, so beanstix it is.  And incidentally, beanstix had  a little friend out there yesterday.  S/he was gray.  Can’t find the friend today.  Interestingly, did you know there is no sexual dimorphism in Gray Tree Frogs?  Me neither.  (I had to look that up).  I was trying to figure out the sex, or gender, or whatever, of the frog in order to choose an appropriate name for him/her.  I am beginning to feel slightly unnerved by my attachment to this frog…

3.  Still have the cold…it is evolving.  Not really getting better, not really getting worse.  I tried some homeopathic stuff this weekend.  You know, like apple cider vinegar, honey and water; and honey with cinnamon.  Yeah, it didn’t really work.  But I came across one idea that you could — don’t read this while you’re eating — put four drops of urine under your tongue to cure a sore throat.  Um, I think I’d rather have the sore throat, thanks.  The comment was, “it won’t hurt you, it comes from your body!”  Yeah, well, so do a lot of other lovely things come from my body and I’m not going to be putting them under my tongue thankyouverymuch. 

4.  We made caramel apples this weekend…aren’t they pretty?  

This took a while to do.  You know, there were a lot of steps.  But it was worth it…they were really good!

5.  Started reading Anne of Green Gables.  I have never read this before.  Can you believe I’ve never read AOGG?!  I am seriously cracking up while I read it!  The drama of this little girl…very amusing.  Thank you CityStreams (I know–you gave it to me months ago…)!

6.  How does this sound for a toddler breakfast:  Cheerios, orange juice and brussels sprouts.  I know, I know.  I made brussels sprouts with a creamy tarragon-mustard sauce last night to go with our roasted chicken wrapped in bacon.  Oh yes I did make it and oh yes it WAS GOOD.  Okay, so there were a few sprouts leftover and I heated them up to eat this morning. Because I love leftover supper for breakfast.  (Hey–it’s better than some of my previous choices).  Last night, Ella spat them at me and proclaimed them ”a vile weed.”  (I’m paraphrasing.  Some of her disgust is lost in the translation.)  This morning she couldn’t get enough.  Of *my* brussels sprouts.  Seriously, I didn’t want to share, but felt it was necessary to take advantage of the opportunity to feed her something green.  Incidentally, William loves them, too, and Henry tolerates them.  Kate, well, she didn’t throw up.  

7.  Last but not least, the man and I had chinese food on Sunday for our dinner date (we try to have dinner alone once a week).  So here are our fortunes:

Me:  You are sociable and entertaining.   

The Man:  An angry man opens his mouth and shuts up his eyes. 

I laughed out loud at that one. 

And that about sums it up, I guess.

Jellycat

 

Meet Jellycat. 

Okay, I guess I did introduce him before, with regard to the throwup.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, here he is again, this time enveloped in a snuggle.  She loves this cat.  She carries him around under her arm, or sometimes drags him by the tail.  He doesn’t mind.  And she likes that about him.

She likes him because he smells good. 

Because he’s soft.  Because he’s snuggly. 

She likes him because he is her comfort. 

The other day (the day after the aforementioned throwup) she carried him around all day.  It was the first time I could remember her really doing that…really being attached to something.  She dragged him around the kitchen.  She remarked at their reflection in the dishwasher.  She held him under one arm while she wiped the floor with the other (gotta get ‘em started early y’all).  She inspected crumbs on the floor with Jellycat.  She dropped him on the floor, and laid down with him and sighed.  It was the ”I love you jellycat” sigh.  It was precious. 

 I’m glad she has a lovey.  And I’m glad it’s Jellycat.  I like him, too. 

 

Delusional

Delusional.  I think that is an appropriate word for my state of mind at the time I planned this trip.  What ever possessed me, I’ll never know.  Other people go to football games with their kids, right?  And they have fun, right?  I figured we could do it, too.  But then, I forgot that we’re not really so much like all the other families.  We have applied for membership in THAT family tree society.

We (really me, because much as he’d like to, the man just never really gets around to the planning part of things.  So if you want to do something, you pretty much have to plan the entire thing out for yourself.  But I digress…) planned this trip to Virginia Tech for homecoming weekend.  We had tickets to the game.  We had a cabin for the weekend about 30 minutes away, and my parents had their own cabin just a short walk away.  And the weather was going to be absolutely beautiful.  And it was filet Friday.  (as in filet mignon.  Prepared by my parents.  All I had to do was eat.)

The view from our cabin was nothing short of beautiful:

The weather was perfect.  PERFECT. 

And that’s pretty much where the fun stopped. 

Ella was sick.  Ella was fussy.  Ella was unmanageable.  Ella is always headstrong and I just really don’t know where she gets that.  At all. 

We got to the tailgate.  I didn’t plan on taking her to the game, because I’m not that stupid.  But I did plan on having a beer and eating some chili and enjoying the beautiful weather and the buildings made of Hokie stone, and watching all of the fans dressed in orange & maroon and smelling the bbq, and spending time like we used to, years ago, and just.plain.being.there. 

 

I was there long enough to put tattoos on the children, take a few snapshots, and realize that Ella wanted no part of anything fun.  She walked around fussing, and when you’d try to pick her up, she’d do that back-arching thing they do that is really frustrating.  She was just miserable. 

 

 

I left and had a pity party for one on the way back to the cabin.  I think a little piece of me might have died.  Okay, that might be a little dramatic, but I was seriously disappointed.  I spent the rest of the afternoon with a much happier, well-rested little girl, while the others enjoyed, much as they could, the tailgate and the game.

Look at this face…

You can’t stay mad for long when you look at that face. 

We’ll try again next year.  Maybe.