One at a Time

I got to spend some unexpected one-on-one time with my buddy Willis McGillis tonight. Although I enjoy spending time with all of my kids together, there is just something so special about getting to spend time with each one individually, even if it is just during a trip to Target. Nothing special, I suppose...just a weekly trip to get groceries and the odds and ends we needed at home. But for one little boy I think it was something extra special.

It was special because during our car ride into Cedar Rapids he could talk to me about whatever he wanted to without being interrupted by a toddler crying or an older sister arguing with him about insignificant details in his story. He got to talk to Mommy about the best presents he got and which ones he was going to play with and whom of his friends might like playing with them too. There was no competition of who had the more important thing to say or who could be the loudest while saying it.

It was special because at the store he got to sit in the front of the cart, and then in the back of the cart, and then got to hang off the back like a garbage man and pretend he was putting garbage into the garbage truck. He didn't have to fight over positions with sisters and be told "no" because baby sis "needs that spot." He even got to push the cart for a little bit which was an extra special treat. (I know that doesn't seem so special but it's the small things.)

It was special because he got to load and unload the groceries without having to bicker with big sister about who got to pick up which food, etc., etc. It was special because he got to swipe my card which no one EVER gets to do. It was special because we got to putz around loading groceries into the car instead of me wrangling them into car seats first so I can make sure no one gets stolen or ran over in the parking lot. And it was super special because he got a treat at the drive-thru after our trip was completed.

It was special because for about 2 hours, he got Mommy's undivided attention and since he was alone and there was no arguing and only 1 kid who was doing an outstanding job following directions, he had a mommy who was calm, collected, and even a bit silly. I'd like to spend time with that mommy too!

Willis McGillis showing off his
silly personality that we love so much!

It's nights like these I love. I love being able to really focus on one child at a time so they can feel special and maybe like they are the center of the universe for even a brief amount of time. I love to see each of my children's personalities when they are not competing for my attention and are just enjoying hanging out with their mom.

Nights like these also make me a bit sad. It makes me feel a little sad that I'm not able to do this more often with each of my children. It makes me sad they are growing up so fast and that at some point a trip to Target with mom won't seem so special any more. And it makes me sad, and maybe even a little ashamed that I really am only completely relaxed and, yes, even a bit silly, when I have one child versus three children at the grocery store with me. I would like to think that I typically handle shopping with three kids alright but I do know I feel a lot more exhausted and may lose my temper a bit more after a trip with all three then I did after tonight. 

I hope my kids enjoy spending time with me AND their siblings but I'll take as many of these nights as I can get. Hopefully I can find little opportunities like these more often to share with each of my kids because it was pretty special...especially for me. 

Can't We All Just Get Along?

After reading some posts on Facebook and blogs by other people lately I've been feeling pretty crummy. It's not necessarily what people are posting. People post things for a variety of reasons...to vent, to inform, to express an opinion, to connect with people. I get it. I obviously do these things too. What has really been bothering me is how people respond to posts/blogs. I understand there are people who write things to purposely stir the pot a bit but some people's responses are rude, disrespectful and just plain mean. When I read these things it makes me feel like we have all lost our sense of decency.

This is nothing new, I suppose. For as long as people have lived there most likely have been haters. It just seems so much worse because with social media it's all in your face, all the time. It makes people more willing to say things to others they wouldn't say to their face...except they slap an "LOL" on the end which should make it seem okay. Didn't your mother ever teach you, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say it at all?"

I know this isn't a new, earth shattering idea. It's just been bothering me a lot lately. I know I could log off, not read it, and not deal with it but that doesn't mean it has stopped happening.

I'm not blaming social media. Social media is great for sharing with friends and family, connecting with people around the world who have similar experiences, and for me, it's been a nice place for me to indulge in writing again. Social media is a mindless tool we use to communicate. Social media is not to blame. People are. We are using and abusing it to bring others down.

I'm all for people debating and learning from one another but I feel like we have all forgotten how to do this civilly. We are all turning into big bullies. How are we supposed to teach our children to be caring and respectful when as adults we are using social media to bully each other just as much? Some of the things I read completely floor me. Not only are people bullying others who post things but others who comment on posts. I read comments that go back and forth until they are so off topic from the original post I think people just want to start a fight. They want to feel like they're right and powerful I guess.

Instead, why can't we use our words in social media, and in life in general, to lift each other up? To show we care about each other? To relate to each other and provide guidance and support? Some people are probably rolling their eyes right now and saying that's not how it works in the real world. In the real world you have to deal with criticism and disappointments. I get it. But why can't we do better?

I can do better. I know I've been guilty of reading posts and rolling my eyes or making comments to my husband. And there are probably times my children have heard me say something I wish I could take back. I'm not perfect but I will try to be better. I will honestly try to provide uplifting words instead of criticizing someone for their point of view. I will try to take on another's perspective before I rush to judge. I will try to be a good example to my children of someone who can be positive and respectful of someone even if I do disagree with them.

Can we end this cycle of hate and bullying? Can't we all just get along?

Halloween Hangover

Lexi the Lion

I woke up this morning with a pounding headache and a rolling stomach. No, I didn't enjoy too many adult beverages last night. It was Halloween and all the screaming, squealing, and sugar got to me.

Halloween is not ALL bad. I do enjoy seeing how excited the kids get when they don their costumes and head out to the streets to see what treasures they will receive from the generous people in my parents' neighborhood. I have to say I get a little caught up in the excitement as well. I'm a sucker for holidays in general and just want good memories to be made.

Will as Luigi

And we did make some great memories last night. It was the first Halloween the Lexi was aware...maybe even awake...of what we were doing. As long as she was holding her Elmo bucket in one hand and a peanut butter cup in the other (didn't matter that the wrapper was still on), she was very content. Livi and Will excitedly ran from door to door and then had fun joining some friends to finish up the night. Everyone had a great time and I loved watching them enjoy themselves.

It's always the before and after that gets to me. First, it's the deciding what to be. Honestly this hasn't been TOO stressful up to this point but I have a feeling as Livi gets a few years older it may be a bit more dramatic. We had a little meltdown about how her cowboy hat fit but once we strategically placed a pony on top of her head to hold it in place, she was happy. The kids always have those indecisive moments where they try to convince me they want to be something else. Sorry kids. Costumes bought/thrown together already. There's always next year to be ____ (fill in the blank with the latest costume request).

Cowgirl Livi

And then the after comes and it is riddled with sugar overloaded kids who are tired and queasy. Trying to get them to bed after an exciting night is hard enough. Doing it after they have eaten 10 fun sized candy bars is even harder. And, oh yeah, it's a school night and they have a spelling test the next day and we haven't practiced the words yet. Squeeze a practice test in, brush teeth, listen to some whining and finally they are all asleep.

And when I wake up the next morning with this Halloween hangover, I ask myself, "Was it worth it?" It always is. They were the cutest cowgirl/Luigi/lion or ____ (fill in the blank with whatever they decided to be). We all had fun and made lots of great memories...and I got to pick through their buckets first for my favorites :)

It's a Hissy Cat!

It was approximately 6:30 this evening when the mayhem began. I was washing supper dishes. Lexi was finishing up her supper in her high chair. Liv was long gone from the kitchen...probably trying to escape cleanup duties. I asked Will to scrape his plate which he proceeded to do into the dog dish right outside our kitchen door.

That's when I hear him scream and yell in a very panicked voice, "There's a cat in the house! There's a CAT in the HOUSE!!!" We live on a farm and although we raise animals and care for them, we do NOT care to have any in our house.

Sugar and Lexi, one of the
non-hissy cats that live
on Primrose farm.

I look over toward my hysterical son and say, "It's OK buddy. It's just a kitten."

JUST a kitten. That would have never been uttered from my mouth if I would have known how much craziness the next 45 minutes would entail. 

I finish washing the couple of dishes I have left in the sink while Livi walks in to see what the commotion is about. "Why is there a cat in our house?"

Will is crying, "I didn't mean to, it was just an accident!" The kitten moves, probably to enjoy all of the food that Lexi has dumped off her tray, and Will screams.

I continue to calmly wash dishes. "It's OK buddy. It was just an accident. Why don't you try to get it out of the house? Walk behind it like you're herding the sheep."

Livi, who loves to help her daddy on the farm, eagerly steps up to herd the cat out of the house. As soon as she gets within a foot of it, it starts hissing and swiping at her. "It's a hissy cat! It's one of the HISSY ones!" She starts screaming and running around the kitchen which gets Will crying even more.

This is when I decide I better intervene. "Calm down guys," I say as I calmly turn off the water, wipe my hands on a towel and walk over to the little black and white kitten who is causing so much chaos. "You two stand over there so he doesn't run that way and I'm going to walk him to the door." I walk toward the kitten and he scurries under a chair, hissing at me. I jiggle the chair to get him moving and he scampers to the door a few feet but when I start to follow he turns and attacks, hissing and screeching as if I had pulled his claws out. This startles me so I scream which not only gets all three of my children screaming but scares the damn cat and it darts away across the kitchen.

And that's when the real fun begins because I can't find that darn thing. I can't find him anywhere. I look throughout the kitchen, bathroom, toy room and living room. No cat. I look upstairs. No cat. All the while my two older kids are following me around and screaming and Lexi is persistently calling, "Up! Up! Up!" while reaching out for me. 

"What are we going to do?!?!" Livi sobs as her and Will huddle together while standing on a chair. Vaguely this reminds me of myself the first time we had a mouse in our house and I laugh a little.

"It's not funny!" Will shrieks as tears are streaming down his cheeks.

"Livi, go call your dad. Will, calm down. He's not going to hurt you and we will find him." I try to reassure them as I lift Lexi out of her high chair. I continue to look for the cat as Will clings to me and Lexi demands to be held. Livi is sobbing on the phone to Brad, "You have to come inside because there is a cat in here and Mommy can't find him!" I can almost hear Brad's heavy sigh on the other side of the line. Livi hangs up and joins our posse as we peer under dressers, desks, couches, chairs. I really can't do this effectively with two children who are panicked and another who just wants some attention.

Sugar following the kids on
a hike. Hope they will still
love him despite the terror
his buddy caused tonight.

Brad comes in the house and I can tell he is not happy. He looks at me, "You lost a cat in here?" 

"I was trying to get him out of the house when he darted past me and I didn't see where he went." I leave out the part about me flippantly letting the kids handle it at first. "The kids are freaked out and I can't really look for him while they are clinging to me." 

Brad grabs a flashlight and marches around the house covering the same territory I already covered. I can tell he's a little exasperated with us all so I corral the kids into the living room. Will sits on my lap and continues to cry, "What if we can't find the cat and I go to sleep and it jumps up on my bed?" I give him a hug and tell him, "We'll find him buddy." And I feel so bad because he's not really afraid of the cats but seeing me scream has put him over the edge. He's definitely afraid of THIS hissy cat that we can't seem to find anywhere. And I start to think, what if we can't find him before bed? And I get a little panicky too!

Just then, Brad calls out, "Found him!" I lock the kids, who have calmed down a little, into the living room with the baby gate. Brad is gingerly pulling my pots and pans out from a cupboard and I hear little hisses coming from deep inside. I must have left a door open when I got a pot out to cook supper. Brad coaxes him out of the cupboard and he orders me to stay in a certain spot. Hmmm...this is the same exact thing I said to the kids. "Don't let him get past you." Yeah, that worked so well the last time.

We manage to get the kitten out of the door with no injuries to human or cat...just lots of hissing. By the time the cat's out the door, the kids are laughing at us like we are lunatics. "Yay! Daddy saved the day!" I applaud as Brad rolls his eyes at me.

So our children are sleeping soundly now that the cat has been released back onto the farm and is no longer terrorizing our house. I'm just wondering if he'll be terrorizing any dreams tonight. Here's hoping we have cat-less dreams and no more intruders tonight.

It's My Birthday and I'm Happy

I'm not just happy because it's my birthday. It's my birthday and I'm just plain happy. I can't say that all of the facebook messages, texts, and phone calls haven't made me happy today. They have definitely made this day feel special. But my happiness goes beyond just today. I feel like at the ripe old age of 33 I have figured out HOW to be happy.

The two most important men
in my life

I'm not trying to paint this picture of a perfect life with a perfect, doting husband, and 3 perfectly well behaved children. That's definitely not us. But I think I've finally had that "ah-ha" moment (or more like a series of moments over the past couple of years) where I have realized things will never go perfectly, people will never be perfect, and I can choose to be happy and grateful despite it.

I have been married to my husband for 8 years. We dated for 5 before that. For a third of my life I have been with this man. He is not perfect and we do not have a perfect marriage. We fight over stupid things like money, disciplining the children, money, helping out around the house, and, did I mention money? We don't have a crazy passionate, romantic relationship. (I'd say maybe odd and quirky would better describe it.) But we do love each other unconditionally. We know each other's flaws and choose to love each other despite them. We have respect for each other and support each other in careers, parenting, and life.

My perfectly groomed daughters...
oh wait, I think that's watermelon
stainson Lexi's shirt.

I have 3 children who I love dearly but who can drive me absolutely mad. They each have their own little personalities and can push my buttons in different ways. For the most part, they are loving, caring, and thoughtful kids who can be very well behaved...for other people :) They are healthy and, as far as I can see, pretty happy. They can make me so angry and melt my heart all within the matter of an hour.

I might not have a beautiful
house but I do have a pretty
good view. Will must
appreciate it, too!

I live in a pre-1900 farm house that is falling apart and needs updating. It's crowded and disfunctional for our family. It's cluttered with crap and ridden with spiders, flies, and, eek...the occasional mouse. I have complained about this house since before Brad and I were even married. I have had building plans on my mind since the day I moved in. I have been embarrassed to invite people over because of its condition. But, it provides shelter and I also love it. It is where Brad carried me over the threshold and where we have brought each of our children home. It's stock full of memories and although I hate it, I will be sad to say goodbye to it someday.

I do not lead a FABULOUS life filled with designer things, world travels, or crazy endeavors. I live on a farm in the middle of America. I have bad habits and at times, bad manners. I curse when I stub my toe and when I drop stuff. I will never be a size 2 and I will always look in the mirror and find something I don't like about myself. I can be extremely shy around new people or in new situations. I worry about stupid stuff I can't control and about royally screwing up my kids. I've made bad choices and am not perfect. And, I'm okay with this.

I am happy with the life I have, flaws and all. I will try to do my best at my job and at being a good mother and wife. I will continue to want to try new things and travel to new places. I will do my best to be a good friend, sister and daughter. But I will make mistakes and may not get to do everything I want to...right this instant. I will not be perfect and can NOW appreciate that people will love me despite that.

My perfectly unperfect family on
a perfect September night.

Thanks to all my family and friends who have helped me realize that being less than perfect is perfectly perfect. You have made me so happy on this birthday.

If You Give a Mom a Day Off...

If you give a mom a day off work, she'll try to catch up on laundry.

While putting clean laundry away, she will decide to go through all closets and drawers since the seasons are changing. She'll pack away summer clothes and make sure all fall clothes are hung up and stocked in dresser drawers.

When she looks in a dresser drawer, she'll find a snack container that one of her kids put in there. She'll think, "I wonder how long that's been in there," as she carries it downstairs to put in the sink. She'll find the sink full of dishes.

She will start doing the dishes at the sink and notice some cobwebs in the corners of the cupboards. She'll go get the vacuum to suck up the cobwebs and then decide to vacuum the living room, stairs, and kids' bedrooms.

While in the bedroom, she will notice the 6 sets of Legos all mixed up and laying all over the Barbie table. Her type A personality will kick in and she'll start sorting the Legos into proper baggies. She'll become distraught because there are pieces missing so she'll start picking up toys off the bedroom floor to find them.

Along with toys, she'll pick up some scraps of artwork around the room and dirty Kleenexes off the nightstand. She'll take these downstairs to throw away.

As she's tossing these in the garbage, she'll spot an envelope of a bill that needed to be paid so she'll go get her purse to get her checkbook.

When she looks in her purse, she'll see lots of receipts and coupons that need to be organized. She'll grab her coupon organizer (that serves only to hold coupons that will expire before she gets around to using them) to put her new coupons in.

After organizing her coupons, she'll look up while wracking her brain as to why she got her purse out to begin with. That's when she'll notice the dusty fan blades. She'll get a chair and a rag and wash these off and think of how much she loves her Norwex cloths.

This will inspire her to wash off her cupboard doors. She'll clean off dried on applesauce and ketchup and other miscellaneous things she can't identify.

As she's cleaning the lower cupboards, she notices how dirty the kitchen floor is. Just as she is about to spot clean the kitchen floor, the dryer buzzes which means there is another load of laundry ready to fold.

She gets the clothes out of the dryer and takes them into the living room and notices that Ellen is on TV. So she thinks, "screw it!" and plops down in the recliner to relax!

Where Did I Come From?

OMG! My 3-year-old asked me the question that all parents fear. And it wasn't even the standard, "Where did I come from?" I have an answer for that one. "You came from Mommy's tummy." This of course can spark some interesting follow up questions but they are usually pretty benign and can be answered awkwardly but easily.

Q: How did I get out of your tummy?
A: Mommy went to the hospital and the doctor helped get you out.

Q: How did I fit in your tummy?
A: You were very small and got bigger once you were born. Etc., etc.

But my son's question was way worse and caught me completely off guard. "How did you and Daddy make me?" What?!?! Ummm...who has my kid been talking to?

While I'm thinking of an appropriate way to answer my son's question without mentioning an egg and sperm, my 6-year-old chimes in, "Daddy and Mommy didn't make you, God did!" This caused a heated debate in the backseat in which Will became extremely frustrated and upset, "No He did NOT! Mommy and Daddy made me!!!" I was hoping this little bickering would give me an out but Will was insistent on an answer.

"Well, buddy. Mommy and Daddy love each other so much and we decided we wanted to have a baby and so we did something special and God helped us make you." I know. Terrible. I'm pretty sure he could tell I was being a bumbling idiot and my answer didn't satisfy him.

My last baby belly...not sure
how it got in there ;)

"How did you MAKE me?"

"I told you buddy, Mommy and Daddy really wanted a baby..."

"But HOW?!?!?"

"Ummmm, well..." and then thankfully we pulled into Nana's driveway and he got distracted. Phew! Not sure how I was going to get out of that one without coming up with some crazy lie like, "Daddy has a magic finger and he touched my belly." (Okay, I would never really tell my child that but in my panicked state that seemed like a reasonable answer).

His question today has made me come to a few conclusions today:

#1. I need to get a whole lot better about thinking on my feet. The kids have caught me offgaurd with questions before and I always try to answer them as honestly as possible but also realize that some information is not appropriate for little ears to hear. Which leads to conclusion...

#2. I need to actually think about how I'm going to talk to my kids about all the fun stuff that I don't really want them to know about quite yet. It's not that I'm against telling them the truth. I want to have an honest and open relationship with my kids and hope they will come to me to address these uncomfortable topics instead of getting incorrect information from a bad source (aka other kids on the playground). But I also don't want to be the one responsible for my son teaching his whole preschool class about the birds and the bees. It's a fine line to walk and I'm just not sure how to do it. And...

#3.  There is a huge difference between my son and my daughter. As you read, my elder child (my daughter) was happy to believe that God was the one who made them. And although there is some truth to that, she is satisfied with believing that He was the only one that had anything to do with it. I appreciate her sweet, innocence and belief in everything she can't see. She will be our child who always believes and hopes for the impossible. It makes me a little sad that she will be absolutely heartbroken when she hears the truth about some of these childhood fantasies. Our son, on the other hand, already is starting to question the reality of these characters we love to believe in. He seems to already understand the impossibility of one soul delivering presents to all of the children he knows in one night much less all of the children around the world. He questions how things exist and why they exist. I love that he is curious and wants real answers but am a little sad that he's probably going to be the one to shatter Livi's fantasies.

I know that Will will have more questions for me. I know they have just begun. I'm hoping that the next time he asks me something like this I can keep my cool and answer his question in an honest but age appropriate way...or I might just say, "Go ask your dad."

Back to School Blues

Enjoying some ice cream on the deck

It usually starts about mid-July. Summer break is halfway over and we're quickly approaching the day we have to go back to school/work/daycare. Anxiety works its way into our house as I look at the list of things to do with the kids and projects around the house that haven't gotten done. Add in the reality that this marks one more summer gone in my children's lives, that soon there will be a summer when they don't want to go on fun little excursions with me at all, and you can understand why I've been in a bit of a melancholy mood lately.

Lexi's first time at the beach.

What has topped it off this past week (our last week at home together) my oldest daughter has been really pushing it at home. I love her and she is a good kid but it seems like we have been fighting a lot lately and that just adds to the sadness that the summer is over. A couple of days ago it was about wearing a swimsuit to a friend's house, yesterday it was over cleaning up the toy room. No big deal. Things all mothers and daughters probably argue about.

Sprinkler time!

The reason it upset me so much was because these are our last few days together before I go back to work full-time for the year, before I start that crazy life of a full-time wife, mother, AND employee who is trying to balance it all along with household chores and carting kids off to practices and activities. Before I have little time to do "fun stuff" with them. Before I barely have time to respond to all their needs. I wanted these last few days to spend loving my kids and doing whatever they wanted to do whether it was going to parks, hiking through the timber or just snuggling on the couch. I wanted to take these last few days to enjoy them at this age before it slips through my fingers just like it did at the end of last summer.

Party in the Park Kiddie Parade

Back to school shopping...Will
found the perfect backpack!

I guess I'm just sad they're growing up and the end of summer marks one more year gone before they leave our house and start their own lives as adults. As much as each stage is challenging, I do love each and every new accomplishment (big or small) and seeing them experience and learn new things. I wish I would be able to devote as much time to them all year round as I am able to during the summer but that just isn't possible for us.

Watching Lexi grow up this
summer was truly bittersweet.

So it's with a heavy heart that I go back to work tomorrow. We did have a wonderful summer together and made countless memories big and small. I am hoping (as I hope every school year) I will be able to take time each evening to enjoy each of our children in some small way and that we don't spend those precious moments together having meaningless arguments about clearing the table or picking up bedrooms. Hopefully school will bring back some routine to our household and everyone will transition well. Hopefully the time we do get to spend at home outside of work and school will be good, quality time. And if not, there's always next summer, right?

Fun times at Adventureland.

Hitting the links with Livi.

Swim lessons

Having fun at Shop and Chalk.

Living room fort for a sleepover.

Doing a nature scavenger hunt around
the farm.

Get In Shape Girl

Well, it's about time I get back in shape. I have birthed 3 children and don't plan on birthing any more so I have any more excuses...although I came up with plenty over the past 9 months. I had a newborn. I was exhausted. I don't have anywhere to work out. I don't have time to work out. The only time I can work out is at 11pm when I'm done with work and my family is all in bed, dishes are done, house is in order, laundry is caught up...oh wait, that's not 11pm, that's never!

So as you can see I was pretty good at coming up with excuses but I decided it's time. It actually started out back in early February when Lexi was in the hospital. I was up in the wee hours of the morning after Lexi had a respiratory treatment when Tony Horton's 10-Minute Trainer infomercial came on. Wow! I can have a body like that if I only work out 10 minutes a day!?!?!? In my sleep deprived stupor I decided I better order it.

Tony Horton and I had daily dates to work my arms, legs, core and cardio. We have a love-hate  relationship. He's so good for me but he can drive me crazy with his maniacal workout faces. Sorry Tony. That doesn't motivate me. It makes me want to throw my shoe at the TV screen. Pinterest and I also worked on finding some living room workouts I could do while I watched trashy TV. I did find a killer ab workout that I like. Not sure how much it has affected my middle but I'm always sore for a few days after so it has to be good, right?

Came home one morning to find
Will running down the lane to
greet me. That gave me a little more
motivation to make it back up
the lane.

All of this was a good start to get back in shape since my cardio sucked and my muscles were weak...with the exception of the ones in my left arm since those are what I use to lug Lexi around with :) Truth is, it was a good start because as I was adjusting to going back to work full-time after my third child all of the above mentioned excuses were true. I WAS exhausted, I DIDN'T have time or a place to work out, and I had FOUR people to cook for and clean up after. I just decided I couldn't use them as excuses any more and needed to start somewhere. I had at least 10 minutes in my day to spare, right?

And then, about a month and a half ago, a miracle happened. I decided to start running. Most of you probably know that I dislike two things: getting up early and running, but this is how it all began initially. I was getting up early to go run before work. It was awful and I hated every single second of it. But I did notice a huge difference in a short amount of time. My legs were getting toned and I was starting to lose that stubborn baby belly that's still clinging to my mid-section. This kept me motivated to keep going and since summer hit I no longer have to wake up early and can do it in the evenings. Bonus!

Sunset on my way up the lane
tonight. Beautiful night for
a run!

After a month and a half I am now running consistently at least 3 times a week (while supplementing with a few of those 10-minute and Pinterest workouts on my off days) and am running over 3 miles. I still don't LOVE it but I no longer HATE it. What I do love is that I feel better and I guess if I have to run to do that, I will. And running home with a view like this ain't too shabby either.

What She's Made Of

What do you get when you have 3 consecutive rainy days and two kids who need to burn off some major energy? A trip to the ER and 7 stitches in the chin, obviously. Liv running across the kitchen with a blanket on her back + Will stepping on it = a messed up mouth and a gash in the chin.

Of course there were lots of tears initially, especially when Livi saw all of the blood that was running down her face. Brad handled himself pretty well since he gets woozy at the tiniest bit of blood. He scooped her up while I ran to get a wet cloth to hold on her chin. Luckily, Nana and Papa were here to manage the other two while Daddy and I whisked Liv away to the hospital.

So as I held her in the car she stopped crying and she asked me to sing her her favorite bedtime song. I had to try my absolute hardest to steady my voice so she couldn't see how upset I was for her. After a song, we started telling jokes and then counted by 2s, 5s, 10s, and 20s until we got to the hospital...not a single tear in the car.

When we arrived at the hospital we were ushered to a room immediately...lucky day! The nurse coaxed Livi into letting her take off the cloth and peeked at it quick. No wincing, no moaning, no tears. And same thing when the doctor came in. He didn't mention stitches out loud but we knew they were coming. He mentioned we could do it by strapping her down or not. I chose not.

All cleaned up and ready to relax!

Soon time came to sew her up. I was honest with her although I tried to avoid mention of the "s" word. She knows what stitches are so I didn't think it was good to get her all worked up. They tilted her head back and began to tug on the skin around the cut. It didn't seem to bother her so they went to work. Again we started with songs, telling stories, talking about birthday presents, and whatever else came to mind while the doctor did his work. No wincing, no moaning, no tears! Pretty good for both Livi and me :)

Seven stitches later she was sitting up eating her Popsicle and laughing about how Daddy had to go wait in the waiting room because he was such a wimp and how tough she was. I have to admit I didn't think that would go quite that easily. I was so unbelievably proud of how brave and tough she was.

It's amazing to see how your child reacts in situations like these. I remember taking Livi in last year to get her tonsils out and how bravely she walked back with the nurse, nervous I'm sure, but without a single tear. I remember putting on my own brave face as I hugged her and told her I would be there as soon as she woke up and then fell to pieces as soon as they were out of earshot. I thought she was just trying to act tough, but after today I think I have pinpointed a piece of her personality.

There are a lot of words I could use to describe Livi. Curious, precocious, enthusiastic, brave, tough, resilient... But I think the word that describes her best is stoic. She is NOT one of those kids who wears their hearts on their sleeves. (I am not saying this is bad. This is just not her.) Don't get me wrong, she can be dramatic at times. But mostly, she doesn't let people know how she's feeling. Take tonight as an example. I THINK she was feeling scared, overwhelmed, hurt, and anxious but she came off as tough and brave because she didn't want anyone to see her cry or let them know she was in pain.

I'm not saying being stoic is a stellar personality trait. Some synonyms for stoic include indifferent, resigned and passive. At certain times, I think these can all describe her. It's because of these traits I fear that she is going to have a difficult time letting people get to know her and she may hold others at a distance. I'm afraid this may affect friendships and in the future, romantic relationships.

But I found it interesting that synonyms for stoic also include enduring, tolerant, and patient which I do believe describe her well and are all great virtues to possess. These are traits that can be great to foster relationships.

So I know she's only 5 and there are so many challenges she'll face and so many ways her personality will grow and manifest itself. I just hope as she grows and discovers herself she will be able to tap into the right parts of her stoic-ness at the right times. As of tonight, I'm pretty proud of my brave, tough, stoic little girl.

Thanks to All You Mamas

I recently went to Chicago for a conference with a co-worker and 6 other women I didn't know. I have to admit I was a little nervous. I was worried I was going to be the odd man out since my co-worker and the 6 other women all work for the same school district. I was the tag along and just didn't know what kind of dynamic there would be.

Well, what do you think would bond me with a bunch of strangers? Of course our kids. By the end of the week we were sharing our parenting horror stories...peeing and pooping and puking, oh my! By the third night together we were sharing details of our labors and deliveries. When you have kids, no topic seems to be off limits...especially after complimentary cocktail hour at the hotel :)

That's the thing about becoming a mom. It bonds you deeply to friends, old and new, and in this case to complete strangers. You understand now all of the work it takes being a mom and you no longer judge that mom with the screaming child in Target. You relish in the camaraderie you have with fellow moms as you struggle to "do it all" while keeping yourself and your kids alive. You can laugh at your most embarrassing mom moments and empathize with each others' struggles. Becoming a mom forces you to get over yourself and your insecurities because your focus becomes your kids.

And with each mom I bond with, I learn a little something new. Sometimes it's simple things like using a Norwex cloth can help get dried fingernail polish out of your carpet. Sometimes it's how to discipline little boys without taking away their lively spirit. Sometimes it's just remembering how fortunate I am to have been blessed with a wonderful husband and three happy, healthy kids and a wealth of friends and co-mamas.

Thank you to all those mothers out there who have taught me a thing or two about parenting. And thanks to my own mom for being a great example of what it takes to be a wonderful mom.

Clone Me, Please

I'll be honest. I've been a little overwhelmed lately. Working full-time with a 5-year, 3-year, and 6-month old is difficult. Throw in the fact that my husband works until dusk every evening as well as every weekend and I feel like a single mom most of the time.

So when I made a trip to the dentist this past Monday with all 3 kids in tow I was feeling a little frazzled. In the waiting room Livi and Will were fighting over a game system attached to the wall (note to dentist: I appreciate you trying to appease my children while they wait for their visit but this really creates more problems than it solves). Lexi starts fussing because she is sick of sitting in her car seat. So as I am literally peeling my son off the Wii trying to get him to go back with the dentist with Lexi hanging over my other arm, I am giving myself a little pep talk about how I can get through with this visit without yelling, threatening, or bribing my children.

Then in walks a mother with her middle-school and upper-elementary aged children. I can't help but eavesdrop as she is telling her daughter how she had to fire their most recent assistant because she wasn't doing her job well enough and complaining about all of the things she had to get done. She exasperatedly says, "Oh, I just need to clone myself!"

Clone yourself? I'd give anything to have that assistant you just fired to sit with my baby in the waiting room while I try to listen to what the dentist has to say to me instead of absentmindedly nodding my head while I try to hold a binky in the baby's mouth and make sure my other two aren't going to get into a wrestling match over those stupid video games.

Breathe. And then I get mad at myself for judging this woman's woe's-me attitude when I, myself, have been feeling like that a lot lately. I don't know what her life entails and I shouldn't judge her based on a 5-minute encounter in a waiting room. I would hate to think what some people have thought of me in my most hideous parenting moments.

Yes, I have felt overwhelmed lately. It seems like I can do my job well, be a good mom, or get my house in order but all three will never coexist. But, I also know I have an absolutely wonderful support system of family and friends who will always help me whenever I ask and can commiserate with me about being pulled in all directions.

I truly do love my life. I love my job even though it can be difficult to balance with young kids at home. I love living on a farm even though that means sometimes cows and sheep come before me or the kids. And I love each of my children even though they can really push my buttons sometimes. I am going to try to get over the fact that I cannot be the best at all things. I may not be the best mom every day but I'm doing the best I can in each moment I have with my kids.

Muddy Mess

I usually despise this time of year, the tranisitional period from winter to spring when everything around here is a nightmare. Anyone who lives out in the country or on a farm can likely relate. It is a sloppy, wet, muddy mess that sucks you in. It's like quicksand...the more you fight it, the deeper you sink in.

My husband despises it even more than I do. He fights with it day in and day out pulling newly delivered calves out of it so they have a chance to survive and using his tractor to pull other machinery out of ginormous mud pits. No wonder he is extremely cranky this time of year.

So I've been complaining about it the last few weeks. Nothing like running late for work and out into mud that suck up your high heels. After changing shoes, and sometimes pants, there is usually no hope for me being on time. I have spent the last few weeks lecturing my son about walking on the sidewalk, directly to the car so we can get to daycare without having to change his clothes. But he can never resist. There is just something about the splashing of puddles and the way mud pulls at your boots that appeals to little boys.

Not only is it muddy because the ground is finally thawing but it rained pretty much nonstop all weekend long. What were little puddles tripled in size during our trip to the store so Will got out of the car when we got home, he just could not resist running to the biggest puddle and hopping right in. It was one of those moments as a mom when you have to ask yourself, is this really that big of a deal? Sure it was raining and he wasn't dressed very warmly and he was making an absolute mess out of himself but it sure did look like fun.

We had nowhere to go and he'd want to come in if he was really that cold, right? What was it going to hurt if he got a little mud on his pants and coat...and face? After watching him joyfully hop from one puddle to another and hearing him say, "Mommy, you jump into the puddle!" I decided what the heck. We had a great time splashing around and getting muddy.

But tomorrow, when I'm running late, he better be able to resist that puddle that will be calling his name.

Potty Talk

WARNING: This post is not for the faint of heart...or anyone who is embarrassed or gets queasy at the mention of poop. I counted and the word "poop" is used at least 20 times in this post. This is only for seasoned parents, those who have fought the long, hard battle of potty training.

Potty training may be my least favorite task of parenting. You're supposed to be all supportive and happy if they try to even just sit on the potty. You're supposed to clap and smile even if they pee all over the floor in front of the potty. You're supposed to grin and supportively say, "maybe next time buddy!" when they have pooped in their big boy/girl pants for the umpteenth time. But all you really want to do is shake them and say, "I know you know when you have to poop. You hide behind the chair and tell me to 'stop' when I come near you because you know you are pooping your pants. Instead of pooping in your pants and crying when I have to clean it off of you, just put the poopy in the freaking potty!!!"

Not all of potty training is terrible and difficult. Our kids have done fairly well with the potty part and we have been lucky that they have both been able to get through the night dry as soon as they started going potty. But the pooping part has been a battle that we have been fighting and it just stinks...literally.

We have tried everything to get the poopy in the potty. I had our child sit on the toilet while reading books. No poop. I made up a song, "Go poopy in the potty! That makes Mommy so happy! Go poopy in the potty! You'll get an M&M-y!" As you can imagine, that wasn't super motivating. I've bribed with candy and toys. No poop. I've tried hard not to get mad but it is so unbelievably frustrating!

We've tried sitting our child on the toilet at certain times, putting the potty chair in the favorite pooping spot (behind Daddy's recliner), and just plain leaving undies off so our child will go on the toilet. All that resulted in was yelling and screaming because our child didn't want to be on the toilet and poop piles left on the floor. My favorite was a time when I was getting the kids out of the tub. The first one out came running back in asking for a diaper. That should have clued me in that he had to go poop. I told him just to wait a second but he obviously couldn't. When I went into the living room he's standing by the toy box with a terrified look on his face while he's pooping on the floor. GRRR! And the poop piles have not even been our worst experience...read "Clean Up in Aisle 1" if you want to hear a real whopper of a poop story.

Finally, we have had success in the last couple of weeks. Knock on wood, we haven't had a poop accident lately. What has been the answer you ask? We sit the potty chair in the middle of the living room floor so our child can watch TV while he goes.

I know some of you are probably judging what kind of parent I am right now. Go ahead. I am at the point where I don't care what we have to do, I just don't want any more poopy pants. Some day our child will figure out that maybe it's not quite appropriate to poop in the potty in the living room and he'll decide to actually use the one in the bathroom. Someday, right?

So here's to pooping in the potty even though it is sitting in the middle of the living room floor in front of the TV! It's been a long road with lots of ups and downs but we are proud of you!

Happy Birthday Bucko!

By the title of this post one would think I'm talking to my 3-year-old son but "Bucko" is actually my little brother. A nickname that was so cute when he was little turned into a nickname I used to taunt him with in middle school. It has somehow morphed into Uncle Buck now that he has 4 nieces and a nephew. I'm sure he'll love me sharing. Just getting him back for some information he shared about me last night.

It's my brother's birthday soon. He is turning 30 in a couple of days so my older sister and I headed down to meet him and some of his friends for supper and drinks. After a couple of drinks, everyone started getting a little nostalgic and that's when the stories started.

I haven't laughed so hard in such a long time. My cheeks hurt by the end of the night. Stories of our escapades as kids and then as high school and college students had us all in tears laughing so hard. My brother shared stories of some of my stupid antics as an undergrad that I forbade him to ever share again, especially in front of my kids. Not that any of us did anything terrible or incredibly stupid but we did have some fun. It was so nice to remember all of the great times we had together.

Of course we see each other often for birthdays, holidays, and other random family get togethers but I can't remember the last time my sister, brother and I got together without our parents and spouses. Not that we don't love them, it's just different when it's just the three of us. For all the moments I spent hating them growing up, I sure do love them and hold tight to all of those memories we have together.

And as we have grown, gotten careers, dated, married and have had children, those opportunities to get together have unfortunately become fewer and further between. It makes me a little sad to know those times in our lives are just memories now but I look forward to seeing the bond my three kids will have and the mischief they will get into. I'm just glad we were able to have those few hours together to remember all of the mischief we got into.

So happy birthday Bucko! Cheers to 30. Let's not wait another 10 years before we get to hang out and reminisce on our youthful days.

Just Go To BED!!!

I hate bedtime. I hate it! At our house it is the epitome of chaos. Whiny kids, short tempered adults, yelling, giggling, bed jumping...AHHHH! I just want everyone to go to bed!

Our bedtime routine is at least an hour long process. It starts with bath time right after supper. This may be my all time least favorite parenting chore. The kids complain because they don't want to take baths. They are fully capable of tearing off their clothing (most of the time I am telling them to get their clothes back on) but I am the one wrestling them out of pants, shirts, and socks and into the tub.

Once in the tub, the kids are squealing, singing "Five Little Ducks" at the top of their lungs and pretty much making it impossible for me to wash them. The acoustic onslaught of the splashing and yelling grinds me in a way nothing else does. Then there is the whining. "It's too hot. Now it's too cold!" Grrrr! Of course I get bubbles in their eyes because it is physically impossible for them to sit still for five minutes while I wash their hair so there usually are tears shed. To top it off, they whine about having to get out. Are you kidding me? I had to force you in there to begin with!

So by the end of bath time I am ready for them to just go to sleep but that would make my life way too easy. They still have to get jammies on, hair dried, and teeth brushed, all of which can produce tears and irritable comments from me...hurry up, come here, how many times have I told you to put your pants on!!!

The cleansing and dressing are only the beginning. We then have to search the house high and low for all beloved objects that are needed for going to sleep. "Where's my dankie?" "Mom, can you find my bitty?" "I need my baby." And my all time favorite, "I want my little, green monster truck!" I am not kidding. Will likes to hold on to it sometimes while he sleeps. Real nice and cuddly.

Lovies found and time to march upstairs. Each kid picks a book and gets a song. Will typically picks one of the 20 Elmo books we have that have been read a billion times and then wants me to sing the ABC song. So every night, I sing the ABCs, trying to make it into some sort of sweet lullaby while keeping it interesting by doing a mash up with Twinkle Twinkle. I have to keep my sanity somehow.

Livi's choice of book is always unpredictable. One night we read a science book about stars she had checked out from the school library. Pretty sure that put her to sleep within five minutes. If she doesn't fall asleep during story time, there are the endless demands. "Scratch my back." "Sing me a song." "Get me a drink." And she has the oddest song choices. Sometimes they are the standards like You Are My Sunshine, sometimes she prefers ones I have sung to her since she was a baby like Godspeed by the Dixie Chicks and I'll Sing a Luv-a-Bye To You from Winnie the Pooh. Other times she goes through months of requesting Christmas songs (White Christmas and The Christmas Song being her favorite) in the middle of the summer.

Most of the time I fall asleep before the kids do. Many evenings I have awoken up crammed in Will's toddler bed with him. Grumbling because I fell asleep and my body is sore from being scrunched up in a tiny bed for who knows how long, I look at my sleeping kids and am reminded that we are one night closer to them growing up. And when they are grown up they won't want me to tuck them in anymore. So, I crawl back in for a few more snuggles with each of them while they are sleeping.

I really don't like our bedtime routine but I do love those last moments of the day when we actually have special time together snuggled in bed talking about their favorite moments of the day. I really do cherish those giggles, stories and snuggles and know that these will be fewer and further between as they grown up. As I lay with Will I tell him, "I love you" and without fail he sleepily replies, "I wuv you mama. You da best mommy in da world." And I whisper back, "You're the best Bubba in the world." And that makes the craziness totally worth it!