Sleeping In

                         

I am the early bird in my house. I am up by 5 on the weekdays and around 6 on the weekends. Sleeping until 8 am is a magical thing that never happens. I typically don't mind getting up early. There is never a shortage of things to do. This past Saturday though, I really wanted to sleep in a little bit. It was cold, dreary and rainy outside. I opened my eyes at 5:30 and decided I would try to get a few more hours of sleep. Until my 6 year old came in my room at 6:01 and sat in between me and my husband. "Wake up, guys. It's morning." I groaned and buried myself deep in the comforters. "No. It's too early, go back to bed." "I'm not tired." "Then go play." She patted me on the head, "But I want you to play with me." She said it in her cute little girl voice. Normally, that would be enough to get me up but you know what? I wasn't giving in. If this was a 100 years ago I would be sending her 6 year old butt outside to milk cows and collect eggs. "No!" So she proceeded to sing very loudly and obnoxiously so we couldn't get back to sleep. "That's fine," I told her. "I'm sleeping until 8 o'clock and if you continue to keep me up I will stay in bed longer." She frowned but finally went off to play. I drifted back into glorious sleep....until 7:10. My 8 year old tapped me on the shoulder. "Mom, mom. I'm hungry, will you make us breakfast?" I rolled over half asleep, "At 8 o'clock." "But mama, I'm hungry now." What do the kids think this is? That I exist to serve them? They do. I was done. I was not going to waiver. I almost lost it, "You have legs. Go pour yourself a bowl of cereal. Eat a granola bar or some fruit. I will be up at 8." She pouted and she got her little sister and went downstairs.

I could hear them moving chairs and opening the fridge and pushing buttons on the microwave. I drifted back into sleep. Fifteen minutes later the kids came upstairs with their breakfast to eat picnic style next to our bed. These kids are on us like white on rice. They had made themselves pancakes (the toaster kind), veggie sausage, sliced apples with cream cheese dip and glasses of milk. WTF? "That's quite a breakfast you made yourself." My daughter smiled slyly. "It was easy. I know how to make food." Well, this certainly was news to me. "I can make pasta." "How do you do it?" "Well, you boil the water and put in the pasta until it is all floppy and you have to stir it. Then you put it in a bowl with holes in the sink and run it under the water. Then  you can put in sauce or cheese and vegetables or anything." I stared at her, intrigued. "Great!" I said, "You are in charge of dinner tonight." Then I feel back to sleep for another 1/2 hour while the kids ate the breakfast they had prepared themselves. I could get used to this.

Slumber Party

                  

On the 16th the kids had a sleepover party. It was Valentine's themed so we decked the house out in pink and red and hearts everywhere. We had balloons and garland. We had a craft station so the kids could make heart ornaments and friendship bracelets and decorate cookies. We made deep dish pizza and served pink punch in red flute glass, which the kids thought were very fancy. It wound up being 6 girls all together, which was reasonable.

We did a Valentine's themed Minute to Win It. It was so soooo funny. I had them stack candy hearts, throw marshmellows into each other's mouths, see who could wrap each other first as mummies with pink crepe paper. It was really fun. After the festivities the kids went upstairs. Our bedroom is the biggest room in the house so we let the kids crash in there and my husband and I were hanging in their room. I tried to crawl into the twin bed with him which was a comedy of errors. The girls raided my closet and paraded around in my dresses and heels, they watched movies and listened to music. I went to bed around midnight and all of them were still going. I don't make the kids go to bed if they are having a sleep over, as long as they behave. I was awoken to a loud noise at 4 in the morning and there were 2 little ones still up. Jumping on the bed. I made them go to sleep at that point. As I crawled into bed I thought to myself, "I will never willingly stay up all night ever again, in my entire life." What is it about being a kid that makes staying up all night long appealing? I think it sounds absolutely horrible to me. Anytime after midnight is a little wild and crazy. These kids are nuts.

I woke up early the next morning and surveyed the damage. There were blankets everywhere and little girls all over the floor. There were no sheets on the bed. There was popcorn EVERYWHERE, soda cans covered all surfaces, there was nail polish spilled on the bathroom sink. My husband walked up behind me, "What happened? Is this a frat house? They are cleaning this up."

I went downstairs to fix a cup of coffee and to read the news. I was thinking I would get some peace but at 6:55 down came three bright eyed 6 and 7 year olds. They were acting as if they weren't up all night. Bopping around and laughing. If I had that kind of energy, I could rule the world. I gave them doughnuts and chocolate milk and pumped them up with more sugar for good measure.

The parents came to pick up the kiddos and I warned them that their kids didn't sleep and would probably turn into demons by the early afternoon. Mine did. They laid down to take a nap and I joined them. It was glorious.

Don't Judge Me

Sometime in January my daughter asked me if she could have a sleepover party for Valentine's Day. She asked me while I was in the middle of doing something important. She is smart and knows when to ask for things because I will agree to almost anything if I am in the middle of doing something important just to get you out of my hair. So I was like, "Sure, whatever", and then forgot about it. Then in the beginning of February I got a text from one of her friends moms saying, "Hey, is the Valentine's Party tonight?" I was thinking, "What?" So I asked my daughter about it and she was like, "You said we could so I told my friends." She told 4 friends they could come which meant my youngest would want 4 friends which meant 10 little girls. I took a deep breath and said, "Okay." I am, after all, a woman of my word and I didn't want to break any little girls dreams by dis-inviting them to this Valentines Day party I forgot about. I set the date for the Saturday after Valentine's Day so that I could get all the decorations and other crap on sale.

So that Saturday came and we were going to get ready for the party. My husband had to assist a family member with something that whole day so it was me and the kids. Before we left, I gave them the run-down. We had to go to the Fed-Ex store, the dollar store, AC Moore, Publix, and Ollie's. I agreed to take them to lunch in between. I knew it was going to be bad. I am not under the illusion that my children can behave when running errands for 5 hours. I don't even expect them to on some level. They're kids, they have limited attention spans, they are complainers. Even my husband would complain if I dragged him that many places.

So off we went.  They did good for most of the time. They were helping me pick out stuff for the party and were getting so excited but then they started being annoying and whining and by the time we got to Publix (our last stop) things started to fall apart. "Mom, can we stay in the car? Our legs are tired. We don't want to go here. We want to go home." Stay in the car? What do they think this is? I gave them a pep talk to lure them out of the car. Oh, and I bribed them with candy. Bad mom award on that one.

I asked them not to ride on the side of the cart and they attempted to do so multiple times. Finally I said, "If you do that again and the cart falls over you will crack your head on the floor. So stop." I said it out loud. I got a dirty look from a fellow customer. I don't care, I am reminding them of  natural consequences. They continued to do things like touch every cheese package in the cheese aisle and disappear periodically. I ignored them. It's a survival mechanism. Then we were in the milk aisle and my oldest had her arm around my youngest and she was spinning her around and almost body slammed her into the milk display. I turned around and said loudly, "Stop it now, girls!" This little old lady who was handing out samples was like, "It's okay. They are sure happy girls, I have enjoyed hearing them laugh." She looked at me like I was a big meanie. I don't care if you enjoyed them laughing - someone was going to get thrown into the milk display. Don't be fooled by their cuteness.

I breathed a sigh of relief when it was time to check out. My little one wanted to help me, so I let her. Then she dropped a bottle of spaghetti sauce on the ground and it splatted everywhere. The glass was in one place and my daughter's shoe was covered in sauce. I was not mad or upset, I laughed and said, "Bee-Bee, look at your shoes." This lady in front of me snapped and said, "Is she okay?" I wanted to throw sauce on her. No- she's not okay. She has glass sticking out of her leg and all I care about is her shoes. Of course she is okay, if she wasn't wouldn't I be acting concerned? I then had an epiphany that everyone at Public thought I was the worst mom in the world. I paid and hurried out.

I get so annoyed when people judge my parenting. I may be the recipient of the bad mom award on many occasions but I am not the worst mom in the world. My kids have it pretty damn good, IMO. I especially love the people that don't have kids and think, "My kids will never act like that." Yeah, I was one of those too until life bitch slapped me back to reality. Now when I see parents with misbehaving kids, I give them a knowing look and I say a prayer for their sanity and patience. 

Kickball Time

                                     
On Valentine's Day my husband had a kickball game so I planned to make dinner with the kids and just have a chill evening until he came home. That morning when I kissed him good bye he said, "If you don't have plans for tonight, you can come to my kickball game." That was him asking me to come cheer him on. I was like, "Maybe." Then later in the day he texted me the address of the field. The last thing I felt like doing on Thursday night was sitting in the cold with the kids watching kickball but I really try to be a good, supportive wife and I made plans to attend kickball.

After work I picked up the kids, we grabbed dinner at Chik-fil-a and then headed over to the field. It was at the Jewish Community Center. As I pulled in, my daughter said in a surprised voice, "Dad is Jewish?" LMAO. So we get out and find my husband and he is was in his sweats and getting ready. It was cold as hell and I was in a skirt and tights. I backed my husband's station wagon up to the field so that we could sit in the back. I had a blanket in my trunk so we bundled up.

They met up with the team they were playing and they were all looked like they were in their early to mid 20's. My husbands team was late 20's through mid 40's. I thought, "This might be really bad." They start playing and my suspicions were correct. His team was horrible. Like really bad. He made a few good catches but overall, it was painful to watch. The other team was just getting score, after score, after score. I was embarrassed for them. On the opposing team there was this little skinny woman - I mean she looked like she was barely bigger than my 8 year old. She was in the outfield in the middle of the game and she was dancing and around and frolicking through the field. My daughter was like, "Mom, that lady is a weirdo."
She reminded me of the Lucky Charm's leprechaun. We watched her the whole time. It was hilarious.
                                                  
After what seemed like for ever, they shook hands and my husband made his way back to us. The kids were like, "Dad, your team is really bad." He laughed. "Honey, what was the final score?" He hung his head, "19 to 3. They are the worst team in the league. They were all like 'First win for the season!'" I said, "That's okay. You get an A for effort." Then I asked, "What was up with that little woman dancing around the field?" He said, "She was like smash drunk. Completely wasted. The whole team was just chugging beer the whole time. Didn't you see them?" I hadn't. They lost horribly to the worst team in the league while that team was drunk. Pretty classic. Kickball is amazing.

You Have More Than Math Problems

                         

So last night I sat down with my oldest daughter to do her math homework (that she told me she finished earlier in the day). Uggh. She is working on the first problem and was getting very frustrated so I suggested she do the rest of the worksheet and then go back to the first one. That's what she did. It was a division problem and she started writing it out the way she was taught to do it. It was a very convoluted and in the end the answer was wrong. "Honey, that is not correct." She started to whine and I suggested she use the counting method to solve the problem. She does that. "Nine?" "Yes, that is the answer." Then she says, "No, the answer is 19." I was not understanding, she just got the answer correct and then took it back. I said, "No, you got it right the first time. The answer is 9." She scowled at me, threw down her pencil angrily  and started sobbing, "Everybody hates me." That's her new thing to say whenever she's mad. I'm just sitting there like:
            
I thought, "What just happened?" So she's sobbing and being a diva so I put on my counseling hat and say, "I can tell you are really upset, talk to me about how you're feeling." She tells me that she's frustrated and how math is hard and she doesn't want to do it except it's in between whines and cries and is very annoying. I wanted to tell her that life is hard and to get over it. "You got the answer correct, the more you practice the easier it will be. You can do it." She calmed down and packed up her now finished homework.

Then we picked out Valentines Day clothes. "Mom, are you coming to my Valentine's Day party?" I told her I wasn't because I had to conduct interviews and there was no getting out of it. She was hateful, she cried and accused me of being "horrible" and I never come to "anything." I reminded her that I came to the awards ceremony, all of her chorus events, the school Christmas party, the jump castle party....not good enough. I reminded her that we are hosting 8 girls at our house this weekend for a Valentine's party and sleepover. She still declared I was the worst mom in the world. Finally, I had had it. I am not going to be guilted by these kids or verbally abused. I am a working mom- that's the way it is. Do you like eating and having a roof over your head? Thought so. I went into this big speech about how some kids have parent's who don't take care of them and don't go to ANY events. I was told I was liar. I told her that she had a bad attitude and needed to go to bed. I can't and won't argue with crazy people.

After the kids went to bed, I went to the trunk of my car and retrieved a bag that I had hidden there all week. I arranged packages with candy, heart socks, a Valentine card and a balloons that read, "I Love You".  I got everything ready for Valentines breakfast - heart shaped pancakes and freshly sliced peaches. Then I went to bed. I have to tell you, being the worst mom in the world is exhausting. *Sigh*

Crash Into Me

           

We were riding in the car this weekend and "our song" came on. I turned it up and was all excited and said, "Honey - it's our song." He said, "You're going to need to turn it off." I was confused. What does this mean? "I think it's inappropriate for the kids." The song is Dave Matthew's Crash Into Me.

Flashback: It's July 2001 my husband and I had been dating for 6 months. I was 17 and he was 18 and we were driving down Wade Blvd. in his white Saturn station wagon and we were discussing him leaving for boot camp and I remarked that we should have a song and we were thinking of songs that would be fitting. We were stopped at the light and Crash Into Me came on the radio. We sat silently and listened and we knew that it would be our song. It was a sign from God- that was it. We had a song.

Flash forward: So we are sitting there in the car and I said, "It's not that inappropriate?" He looked at me sideways and began quoting lyrics from the song, "You wear nothing, but you wear it so well? Hike up your skirt a little more and show your world to me?" Oh yeah, that. "Well, it's still our song and it was appropriate at the time." It really was, we were hormone raging teenagers. It is symbolic of a beautiful time in our lives. Young love, innocence, carefree days and nights. We could change the lyrics to fit to married life. "You wear nothing, but you wear it so well when the lights are turned off. Take off your sweatpants and show your world to me for 5 minutes..." Just kidding. I like our song, it's beautiful. I don't care if it's inappropriate and makes our grand kids vomit one day.

Then my husband said, "You know what bothers me the most about this song? When I hear it I think that I don't want any boy showing up to my house singing it to my daughters." Awww - he said it in a sad voice.
I laughed, "Oh but they will, but that is 6 years from now. They won't even know this song. They will probably be singing "Bands a Make Her Dance" and crap like that." He laughed. He is totally freaked out about our kids becoming teenagers - mostly because he was a boy once. I am not so freaked out. I think that we have great kids. It's our job to raise them up to be responsible and to make good decisions, to set boundaries. If they don't - my husband will keep everyone in line.

We had a very relaxing night last night. It was cold and rainy and we had a yummy crockpot dinner. After dinner the kids went and did whatever the heck they do and my husband built a fire. We sat by the fire and had a cup of coffee and let the stress of Monday melt away. We discussed the day, the kids, plans for the week. My husband is part of a kick ball team at work and he had a game planned for Thursday. "I think we are going to forfeit our game because everyone is "doing" Valentine's Day." He rolled his eyes. We don't really celebrate Valentines day. We will decorate and I will buy the kids Valentines socks and candy and something cute but my husband and I think there is too much pressure and expectation on Valentine's Day. I can buy my own chocolate, I don't need jewelry, don't care about flowers. He still asks me every year if I want something. Last year he brought me a bracelet. He was like, "I wasn't going to get anything but the guys at work were talking about what they got for their wives and I started feeling all guilty...." Peer pressure. I am super low maintenance and really don't care. I told him that if he wants to do something for me on Valentines Day he should do the dishes. He looked offended, "I do the dishes sometimes....like once a month.....okay, like once every other month, sometimes?" I laughed. He went on a diatribe about how much he hates doing the dishes. Then he said, "You know what else I hate? The laundry. Every time I see that pile of laundry, I just want to set it on fire." I said, "We should have a laundry bonfire party for Valentines Day. That would be amazing." I meant it. We finished our coffee and snuggled for a while - and then the kids found us. That's how it goes. 

 

Baby Showers Among Other Things

                              
The days are passing with a lightning fast speed. The weekends especially. They always fly by too quickly.
This weekend was fun. My youngest spent the night at a friend's house on Friday night so my oldest and I had mom and daughter night. We went to Chinese buffet and rented Hotel Transylvania. It was so nice and relaxing.

On Saturday morning my little one bopped in at 9 am, drinking a bottle of root beer. Her friend's mom was like, "Yeah, they had mimosas earlier too." LOVE HER. She ran up to me and hugged me tight and said, "Mama - I had sooooo much fun. I din't miss you guys at all." She keeps it honest.  I missed her terribly (I always miss them when they are gone)...of course I didn't tell her that. I didn't want to make her feel badly. She is entitled to not miss us. That's how it goes.

I was preparing to go to a baby shower and I was wrapping the gifts in tissue. I started to fill out the card. I always feel like I should write something poetic or give some piece of really important advice. I mean, I have two children, I work with babies and new parents every day but I can never come up with anything. I sat there staring at the card for a while. I turned to my husband and asked, "Honey, what is one piece of advice that you would give to a new parent?" He thought for a moment and turned to me and said, "Never shake a baby." Really? I can't write that on a card. Good luck! Remember - never shake a baby. I'm not trying to do a public service announcement. I rolled my eyes at him. "What? That's important. You asked." I love this man. He is a riot.

I got dressed and kissed the kiddos and headed out. I planned to stop at the Goodwill before the shower because it was on the other side of town. I was chugging water in the car and by the time I got there I needed to "refresh". I walked back to the rest rooms and there were two unisex bathrooms and both had the lights on. I knocked on the door loudly and waited a minute. No one answered or said anything and so I opened the door. I walked in on this old Asian man taking a whiz. OMG! "I am so sorry." I shuttered. The other restroom was unoccupied. When I walked out I saw him in the coat section. I tried to avoid eye contact. It was super awkward. I lost my desire to treasure hunt after that.

I went to the shower and it was absolutely gorgeous. At this beautiful beach house with a view of the ocean and champagne and delicious food. The decorations were beautiful. It was just really classy. It set the bar extremely high as far as baby showers go. Everyone was very nice and excited for the new baby and mommy to be.

I had a long drive home after the shower and I reminisced about my own children, my pregnancies, their births, the years between then and now. It seems like a lifetime ago and yesterday all at once. There is a lot of advice that I could give. To enjoy the last weeks, to rest and sleep and not be anxious. That while it seems like it will never end, the baby will come before you know it and you will remark on how much easier life was while they were on the inside. That to give birth to a baby is the closest thing to seeing God here on earth. That you will love this child with a passion and intensity so deep that it will make you feel like you could burst. To never wish the days away. Embrace the chaos. Pick up the baby, rock the baby - be present . The laundry and dishes will wait. Never wish the days away - it's exciting when they start to eat food, and then walk, and then talk....those things will come, live in the moment. You will be exhausted. That doesn't stop, ever. Even after you start to sleep through the night again. Mom is a 24/7 job. Even when you aren't with them, you worry and you make plans. Try not to worry too much. Tell your child EVERYDAY that you love them - that they are smart and pretty. Be flexible. Get used to messes. When you feel like you have no clue what you are doing - remember that ALL parents feel that way. I know that I still do. Being a parent is the most intense, exhausting, and rewarding job in the entire world. That your child will be your future personified . That's what I should have told her.