Siblings March 26, 2013

Today they fought over snow. Snow! Freaking Snow! It just snowed three inches by the way. 22 months apart, CK1 and CK2 have mastered their sibling rivalry. 14months and just over 3 you wouldn’t think could start this early. She can’t talk, but boy can she scream bloody murder. Such a diva at 14 months she gives her brother a run for his money.

I know what that’s all about. I have four siblings to compete with. Sandwiched between the middle and the baby I think I was loud to not get lost in the shuffle. When you have brothers and sisters it’s all about ganging up on the weaker ones and pushing buttons you know that irk them. My lovely siblings made up a song about me talking to much, they made up a song to sing if I would start crying, and they even found a way to pick on me about my birthday. (I was a Christmas Eve baby and the movie The Nightmare Before Christmas came out when I was seven). But when it was time to turn on another sibling you better believe I was up right there with them making fun of the unlucky one.

Siblings. You love them. You hate them. They say all the wrong things. They say all the right things. We now range from 35 to 25 and when we get together we are a force to be reckoned with. Arguing. Name calling. Screaming.  And that’s just when we try to get together for a “friendly” game of Monopoly.

I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Because if all else fails your siblings are there for you, even from an early age. I’ve seen the three year old fight tooth and nail anyone who he thinks is messing with his little sister. And she herself is happiest when she is around her big bro.

Siblings. Try as hard as you want, you are literally stuck with them for life.

 

It started out so simple… March 25, 2013

And it became a HUGE mess!

While my boy and I were out at Kids Fest this weekend, we stumbled upon an activity center that had gallon bags full of shaving cream and food coloring. The kid LOVED it and it was simple enough that I knew I could replicate it at home, which is exactly what we did this morning.

It started out simple enough. Gather a few gallon zip seal bags, a can of shaving cream and some food coloring.

I let the kiddos spray the shaving cream into the bags and choose the colors they wanted to use. (Shockingly, they both wanted to use the same colors. Now, had I suggested this, it would have been the beginnings of WWIII, but since they did it on their own, it was the best idea they had all morning!)

After sealing the bags, they set to squishing…

…and pounding…

and adding more colors.

Then they realized that we could OPEN the bags and play with the stuff inside which meant I better act fast. I stripped them down to their skivvies and plopped them in the tub. Lord above did they have fun. From this point on, it all got a little fuzzy. There was slipping and sliding, giggles, splatters of shaving cream flying and LOVELY artwork being created right before my very eyes. When all was said and done, we ended with this scene…..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you ask the kids, it is the best thing they have done EVER and they would like to do it when we get together again tomorrow. MOM on the other hand thinks that this much excitement should be experienced once every few months!

 

~C

How to Appear Manic to the ENTIRE WORLD!!! March 15, 2013

If you haven’t read my post from earlier this evening, this will not make any sense. I will sound like a mom boo-hoo’ing about her sick kid…

Since my last rambling and selfish display, I have had to make a temporary bed for my child, in the bathroom, with the shower on as hot as it can get so I could get some steam action for him. A simple humidifier was not cutting the mustard…and thank God for my medic friend who reminded me of this trick. (Which, subsequently, I learned back in the day while watching Terms of Endearment) For a brief time, the boy slept…soundly…and without struggling to breathe. Then, just like that, it was over.

There is not enough hot tea, Vicks or steam in the world to get this kid to get a nice deep breath. So now I am sitting here hoping and praying that we don’t have to make the 30 minute drive to the closest ER in the middle of the night. I want so badly to make everything ok for him…to hear him sleep without snorting and snarfing for every breath. When he wakes up crying it breaks my heart and there’s not a damn thing I can do. Having a sick kid SUCKS!

Thankfully (?) I have come to the realization that I am not going to sleep again tonight. Accepting it is just necessary at this point. This, however, has allowed me the ability to prop him upright in a bean bag and set up a stock pot on the stove to steam the front half of the apartment. Hopefully this will give him the chance he needs to get some good healing sleep so that tomorrow we don’t have to go through this all again.

In closing, I would like to thank all those parents who over medicated their children and used cold medicine to turn their kids into zombies so that I can sit here tonight, without an option to medicate my boy who would greatly appreciate it. You guys are awesome and deserve Parent of the Decade awards! Bravo!

~C

Would You Like a Little Whine With That Sneeze?

My darling child (whom I love more than the air I breathe and the life I have been given)  has been sick for days now and it has taken its toll on me.

Tonight is the 5th night in a row that he has been down and out. I know he didn’t plan it. I know he is just little and I know that one day I will want him to wake up in the middle of the night and want ME to be the one to take care of him. I am sure there will be nights that I cry because he won’t let me bring him chicken soup or rub his back and kiss his forehead while I take his temperature. But, right now…at this very moment…I have had just about enough of this crap.

I haven’t slept for more than 45 minutes at any one time since he got sick. My bed is full of kid germs and nose crust…even though I have been changing the sheets daily. My back has permanent indentations where his feet have been pushing against my kidneys while he sleeps in my bed at night. Everywhere I go, I am picking up dirty tissues and popsicle wrappers.  My life revolves around wiping boogies and medication schedules.

Also, I get it that his “nose doesn’t come out” and that every little thing irritates him. I get it that he, like every other male in the world, is whiny and needs waited on hand and foot when he is feeling ill. I get all of these things…

But for the love of God, can I get a break? Can I sleep? Can I NOT pick your boogies off the sleeve of my shirt? Will you PLEASE stop whining…just for an hour so that my brain can learn to recognize other sounds? PLEASE!

Yes, I am whining…Yes, I sound like a wretched mother…Yes, I am too tired to care. Yes, tomorrow is a new day and yes, my patience and tolerance levels will be replenished…but for now…for now….I am going to go pour myself an extra big glass of wine and hopefully drift peacefully off to sleep and say a little prayer along the way that he does the same…for the betterment of everyone we come in contact with!

 

~C

Post Pregnancy Pregnancy Dreams March 3, 2013

I will readily admit that I have ALWAYS had weird dreams. When I was in 4th grade I had a dream that a bunch of wild animals stormed our housing development. I had conversations with lions and gazelles. In my mind it made PERFECT sense that a large variety of African animals would be storming PA in the winter.

There are tons of others…like the one where I went grocery shopping with Zac Brown’s guitarist…or the one where my mom asked me to go knock down and ant hill and I was swarmed by quarter sized fire ants that embedded themselves under my skin…or the one where my family sent me to Barbados for three months and took all my money because they wanted me to learn to be a survivalist so when I got there I learned how to make rum and drank tropical drinks for three months. My all time favorite has to be the one where I caught a friend of mine with her boyfriend that she never wanted any of us to meet…when I saw that it was Mickey Rourke, I understood why.

( I can’t look at a photo of the man without cracking up! It may be the dream…but I am starting to think it is just him)

They are not all fun and games however. I had some of the worst pregnancy dreams. I still remember them vividly and they are too disturbing to share here…

Last night’s dream falls somewhere between grocery shopping guitarists and disturbing.

I am sending my son to preschool for the first time this week. For the last three years, I have been his full time caregiver, unless Ebun was there to babysit him. (there was also that time I was so sick I thought I was going to die and another dear friend her and hubby came to my rescue…I will always love her for that! AMS, this love is for you!)  It was a hard decision for me to send him and clearly it is causing me some internal strife.  Read on…

Last night I had a dream that I sent him to school and they did not approve of the brand of milk that I sent him to drink so they called Child Protective Services on me. When I went to pick him up for the day, no one told me anything. They acted like they didn’t even know who I was. DAYS went by before I was able to learn anything about my child and when I heard what had happened I went crazy. I called someone (who, I don’t know) and lost it…sobbing and wailing and losing my mind…and all they said was “oh…it’s you! I don’t know what to tell ya…you just gotta move on” (HORRIBLE!) I spent extreme amounts of time trying to track down my child, getting more and more desperate at every turn. I finally found him, in a bassinet in some old man’s house. He was covered in tea towels and his bassinet was full of little yippy dogs that wouldn’t let me near him. I am happy to report that I was able to snatch him out of the dog pit and after sustaining a few bites and nips (a few dog teeth stuck to my shirt) I was happily reunited with my son.

I woke up several times during this dream and every time I closed my eyes I went right back to it. I knew, as it was happening, that it was weird and not true but I woke up panicked each time. It was horrible and bizarre and all I could think was “I thought those kind of dreams only happened when pregnant!”

In closing, I would just like to say that the boy will be going to preschool this week….with juice!

~C

New Diet Craze or The Hazards of Eating with Children

I love children but children are disgusting. Children are germ boxes waiting to spread their boogers/spit/other bodily fluids on the unsuspecting adult. Only children would think it was perfectly fine to sneeze in your face, bite another human being, or slather their own feces on themselves like they were in a spa getting a mud bath.

Did I mention that I love children?

You know why? Today I discovered a marketable plan, a very profitable marketable plan. Forget Juice cleanses, the french women don’t get fat diet, weight watchers, and the gym. What you need is the  Eating with Children diet. On this diet, you can eat whatever your heart desires. Unfortunately your appetite will be greatly diminished on the EWC diet that you won’t get to, or want to, enjoy the food before you.

Let me give you an example of what a typical EWC scenario can be by using one that happened today:

Scene: Mexican Restaurant

Time: Lunchtime a.k.a. The Kids are starving because they haven’t eaten in the last ten minutes

The Rascals: Three children ages, 13, 9, and 7

The Victim: Yours Truly

What Happened: Some how I get placed in our party of 9 sitting next to, and across from said children. The server puts several baskets of chips on the table and tons of little bowls for salsa. I fill up my bowl for salsa. Keep in mind you there are little bowls for everyone to have their own. Suddenly three little hands dip, double dip, and TRIPLE DIP their chips in MY bowl. My bowl!!

No. Not ok.

Then the 13 year old gets a nose bleed, uses a napkin to clean his nose and then puts the bloody napkin on the table. Blood. Salsa. Nonononononononono!!!!

My appetite is about on its way out the door.

I watch the seven year old wipe her nose on her arm leaving a clearly visible trail of yellow mucus.

The nine year old, more well behaved out of the bunch, sneezed. In the air. Across from me. Probably into my astonished mouth.

Then the nine year old discovers the bloody napkin, yells at her brother, throws the napkin at him. He calmly picks it up off the table, uses it to wipe his salsa covered fingers on it (because when you triple dip, you are now dunking your fingers with the chip into the salsa), and takes a handful of chips out of the communal baskets.

Are you still hungry?

I bet that you aren’t.

I even bet that next time you eat chips and salsa this story will pop into your head.

I love these kids and I know grossness comes with the territory of being around them, but there is a limit to the amount of gross I can take at any given meal.

EWC diet. Guaranteed to work, or your money back.

 

~E