I opened my eyes at 4:41 am this morning. I stared at the ceiling for a while before getting up. That has been my reality ALL week. I've been waking up between 2-5 am and tossing and turning. It figures. We are finally getting into a place where my kids actually sleep and now I have a hard time sleeping.
Let's stay in reality though. My 9 year old did somehow manage to snuggle into our bed between us after I fell asleep last night. I woke up this morning with a knee in my back.
Seriously, we've been having this struggle for almost 12 years. That is a long time. I am over it. I have this conversation with her frequently.
"You can't sleep in bed with us."
"Why not?"
"You are too big."
"But it feels so safe and warm."
We go around and around. Usually she winds up sleeping on the floor right next to our bed. We just re-did her bedroom. Painted it, got new curtains and a comforter, let her pick our pictures, wall stickers and a lava lamp. She still won't sleep in there.
I am a proponent of the family bed, I love when the kids lay with me and snuggle. When I say she is too big to sleep with us - I don't mean that she is too old - she is physically too big. My husband is a big guy, I am a big lady and she is getting to be a big person. There is just not enough room.
She gets it from my husband. A few months ago, he went out of town for work and said, "I'm not going to sleep good."
"Why?"
"Because I don't like to sleep alone."
What is wrong with these people? I'll sleep alone every day of the week. Having the whole bed to myself, having all the blankets and pillows, spreading out.... I've been cliff hanging for over a decade. I'm over it.
We had a rough week. It's been really busy. I am ready for school to be over. I am counting down the weeks. I am a horrible parent at the end of the school year. My daughter reminded me to sign her agenda and I had this thought: Can you just sign my name on there? I immediately felt terrible. Bad Mom Award.
I HATE getting the kids ready for school in the morning. Not just because of making lunches either. On Tuesday, my 4th grader got up at 5:30 am and went into her room to get dressed. Before long she was in my room demanding that I find a pair of black tights for her.
"Check the clothes that I just put in your room."
"I did that."
"Wear something else."
"No. I want black tights."
I went into her room, opened her closet and you would not believe it was half full of clothes and crap. When I asked her to clean her room last weekend, she took everything and stuffed it into her closet.
There were no clean black tights. Blue tights, grey tights, striped tights, 5 pairs of jeans.... She had a full on freak out so bad that I can't even tell you. Screaming. She told me that I am a horrible mother and that I don't love her and then refused to go to school. "If I don't have black tights to wear - I'm not going."
Then I had a freak out. Then she screamed some more. Finally, I just left. "I am leaving this house at 7 o'clock with or without you!" I was so upset I was seeing white.
I went downstairs and sat at the table. I was so upset that I was shaking. I was doing deep breathing exercises. My husband wasn't thrilled either.
"Do you think it's too late to consider adoption?" I asked.
"Yes."
"How are we going to survive the next 6 years?"
He shrugged. "Drinking. Lots of drinking."
She came downstairs later in black tights that belong to her sister. Refused to eat breakfast. "It doesn't matter - you want me to starve anyway!" Drama.Drama.Drama.
We grounded her from TV for the rest of the week which invoked 90 minutes of crying that afternoon. How can someone cry for 90 minutes? That's exhausting. Consequently, she did well getting ready the rest of the week.
My 6th grader is a little better. She is slightly more pleasant in the morning. She came downstairs yesterday in a white tee-shirt.
"You need to wear a tank top under that shirt," my husband said.
"I don't have a clean tank top."
"You have plenty of tank tops, go put one on," I piped in.
"I only have a black one."
"Well, put it on," he said.
"But why?"
"Because you are wearing a white tee shirt and that's what we told you to do. Do it NOW."
We're only in February. I am just waiting for the fights that will ensue when it gets warm. She's going to need new shorts. I have straight up told her that it will be mid-length, Bermuda shorts and capris at school. The shorts need to be fingertip length but I am not buying shorts that at AT fingertip length. We are not going to do it this year.
Bathing suit shopping will be hell also because we will have the bikini fight AGAIN. Every year. "I don't care it everyone else wears a bikini...." There will be crying and eye rolling. Please pray for me throughout the spring. I need strength.
I am turning into my parents. Lord Jesus, help me.
I am just living the middle school dream right now. I just took my daughter's phone away through the end of the school year. For various reasons. One of the reasons is that too many boys text her and I don't like it. Things are different this year, the kids are different. They are little more mature, or think they are. They curse and think they know things. It's the age - I know, but I don't like it.
I was lamenting this to my girlfriend who also has a sixth grade daughter. "Did you know that boys tell dirty jokes at the lunch table?" No, I didn't but it doesn't surprise me.
I turned to my daughter, "Kids are telling sex jokes at lunch?" She looked at me dumbfounded.
"You do know. I'm not stupid." She protested, "I know they do but I don't know what they say because I don't sit on that side of the table." SURE. I believe you so much. Not. Let us just get through the school year.
Not that next year will be much better. Seventh grade is when everything just completely goes to hell. I remember when I was in seventh grade it was a thing some of the boys to carry around condoms in their wallets, you know, "Just in case." They would flash them at the girls because that was a cool thing.
That was decades ago. I guess some things never change. I just hate it. I want to put my kids in a box for the next 7 years away from all the other kids. Although, dirty jokes are funny. Here is one I find especially amusing: What happened when the married couple with 2 kids had sex every day for a week? A unicorn, leprechaun and mermaid showed up to congratulate them. LOL. That's a mom joke.
I am currently accepting thoughts and prayers. I thank you in advance.
In other news, we got a cat today. I've been talking about getting a cat for a little while but my husband was protesting. This morning my husband woke up and out of the blue said, "We should get a cat today." Whatever.
He went to the movies and I told the kids we could go look at cats. I told them, "I want to get a boy cat and name him Jefferson after Thomas Jefferson." He's my favorite president.
"We can call him Jeff for short." The kids were agreeing with me for some reason.
We walked in and there were only 2 cats to choose from. One was a scrawny little kitten named Ella and the other was a 3 year old Tabby named...Jeff. I am not f**cking kidding.
What is the likelihood of that? Jeff isn't even a cat-like name. It's a one in a million coincidence. God and the universe were telling us that it was meant to be. I should have brought a lottery ticket. It was a little freaky.
He is soooo adorable. Just look at that face:
I was in a rare mood today. I let the kids pick out all kinds of toys and crap for this cat. We took him home and he acted like he owned the place and attacked the dog. They will need to be separated for a little while before they are re-introduced.
He is so funny. He sat on the windowsill and snuggled up with us. We love Jefferson. Plus, my husband is glad to have another boy in the house. He is truly outnumbered. Jeff + us = it was meant to be.
Since we have purchased this house, I have slowly been getting it together. Painting rooms and fixing wood rot and all kinds of boring things.
Since the bedrooms are done, it is time to do the bathrooms. I asked the children to pick a color or a theme for their bathroom. "Get together and make a Pinterest Board or something." What was I thinking?
A few hours later my 11 year old gave me a dissertation about the bathroom. "Well, we wanted like - a blue but we already have a lot of blue rooms so we are thinking more of like a periwinkle. We want it to be beach themed." Then she proceeded to show me a 100 pictures. Mermaid wall hooks, green stringed lights, canvas pictures, picture frames - a bunch of shit that doesn't belong in the bathroom.
I really just wanted them to pick out a paint color and a shower curtain and maybe just a picture to hang on the wall. They were getting all Traded Spaces on me. That is my project over the next 2 weeks - to narrow down their selection and get their bathroom painted. The walls look dingy and gross.
My bathroom also needs to be done. I asked my husband what color he thought we should paint our master bathroom. I expected him to say green because he wants us to paint every room green but he surprised me.
"I think we should go with a purple."
"Why purple?"
"Because purple is an ancient roman color. You know - emperors in Rome wore purple. We should have a Rome themed bathroom."
That seemed intriguing to me. "What would be have in a Roman-themed bathroom?"
"You know, like a picture of the Colosseum or something like that."
Like the Colosseum in ancient Rome, great battles may occur in the master bathroom....if you don't eat enough fiber.
My husband lets me do my thing so I thought, What the hell? Let's have an ancient Rome themed bathroom. I found this really cool shower curtain that has a map of Rome.
We'll have a print of the Colosseum and I want to get a shelf for the wall above the toilet. I am considering buying a bust of Ceasar. I think it'll be funny because it'd be above a throne. Get it? Emperor / throne? he he he. My husband can gaze into his eyes when he uses the restroom every morning. He'll stare at us when we step out of the shower.
How awesome and creepy would that be?
So in my ancient Roman bathroom searching I decided that we should go to Rome. I've been wanting to go but I decided to make it official. Carpe Diem! I wanted to go next Spring Break but the timing wasn't good so we'll go next June. We're going to do a cruise because there are some other places we want to see and I like the idea of getting a little taste of Italy, the French Rivera and Barcelona. Also, we can take advantage of the various buffets and wake up in a new location everyday without having to worry about transportation. You know, because I'm lazy.
I am so excited that I can barely stand it. It will be our 15th wedding anniversary and the kid's 11th and 13th birthday present all rolled together. That makes me feel old.
Until then, I'll have to settle for our Roman bathroom.
I'm supposed to be cleaning my house right now. I was feeling so motivated earlier. I went to the store and got a whole bunch of fancy cleaning stuff. I put on my cleaning clothes and thought, I'm going to clean this WHOLE house today. I'm going to get it together. Then, I cleaned the living room and after that I thought, Well, I'm pretty much done cleaning for the day. Fail. I'm so lazy.
Yesterday I had a 4 year old sleep over my house. I'll call her Red. I was watching her for a friend. I thought to myself. I can totally handle a 4 year old girl. I've had 2 of them. I forgot how physically demanding it is to have a young child.
She came over in the late afternoon and my 9 year old entertained her. My oldest went to sleep over a friend's house. I took the kids to Jersey Mikes for dinner. I put on her coat and then walked her to the car. She needed help getting in. Then I took the coat on and snapped her in her car seat. We drove 5 minutes and then I unsnapped her, put her coat back on and then helped her out of the car. Holy crap! People with little kids have to do this routine EVERY TIME they go anywhere.
Red doesn't eat much so I got her a melted cheese sandwich, chips and a M&M cookie. She thought it was so awesome. She ate 3 bites of her sandwich and then said, "Mrs. J, can I eat my cookie." I shrugged, "Sure." She ate a cookie and chips for dinner. This is what it must be like to have grand kids.
I took them to go see Kung Fu Panda 3. As soon as we got to the theater, I made them use the restroom. I waited for Red to come out. I realized that she could not reach the sink. I lifted her up, helped with the soap and helped her get her hands washed. We got popcorn, soda and I let each of the kids pick out candy. My daughter got Whoppers, Red got Gummy Bears.
We went to our seats and set everything down. Red said, "I can't sit here." I didn't understand what she meant. "Sure you can, baby." I pushed the seat down and she sat. Then she got sandwiched in the chair. Poor baby, she literally meant that she could not sit in the chair. I didn't know what to do for a second and then I remembered - booster seats! They are actually things. We found one and we sat down. Then she said, "I have to use the bathroom again." We got up and went back to the bathroom. She was skipping down the aisle, just oblivious to everyone just happy to be alive. She tripped over her own feet but just got back up. I waited for her, she washed her hands and we walked back to her seat.
She opened her gummy bears and we watched the previews. Then she turned to my 9 year old and said, "I want your Whoppers." My daughter looked at me like, What do I do? They are my Whoppers. I nodded, "You give her the Whoppers." She was double fisting Whoppers and gummy bears. We enjoyed the movie. Every so often she would tap me on the shoulder and whisper things in my ear like, "Mrs. J, that guys is being mean when he is not being nice" and "Mrs. J, his hat is silly." haha. She was doing the same to my 9 year old who was like, "Yes."
After the movie, I put her coat back on and zipped it up and we walked back to the car. My 9 year old held Red's hand. She was being so sweet. I kind of feel bad that I robbed her of the opportunity to be a big sister.
I helped her into the car, took off her coat, and strapped her into her carseat. We were driving home and she said: "Mrs. J, I really like the song 'What Does the Fox Say?"
I have not been able to pair my phone with my husband's car so it was not an option.
"Red, we can't play that song right now."
"But I really like it."
"I know. Maybe we can listen to it when we get home."
The next thing you know, I heard sniffling from the backseat. I felt so horrible. I literally ruined her dreams. She was so tired.
We went into the house and she needed to be cleaned up. She had chocolate on her face, butter and corn kernels in between her fingers and her pony tail was half coming out. "Do you take a shower, Red?"
"No. I take a bath."
"Does your mom wash you?"
"Yes."
Okay, then we were going to take a bath. Baths are only taken like once every six months in my house. Which is really a shame because we have a big, beautiful Jacuzzi bathtub. I cleaned it out because it had collected dust. Then, I ran a bath. She got undressed and I put her in. I had a new spongee and I lathered it and made her wash her own body. She did the best she could.
She said, "Mrs. J. I love to play with toys when I take a bath."
"Baby, we don't have bath toys."
She shrugged, "But I really LIKE to play with toys in the bath."
"I know but we don't have any."
The look of disappointment on her face broke my heart. "That's ok but I really like to..."
Then it was time to wash her hair. I told my 9 year old to retrieve a cup. I debated getting it myself, but I was unsure of whether or not unattended 4 year olds drown in bathtubs. I wasn't going to risk it. I told her to lean back and I wet her hair. Then I lathered it with shampoo. I do not own tear free shampoo. There was crying involved. I was like:
I did not know what to do. So I dumped another cup of water over her head and told her to rub her eyes. Poor kid.
I got her out of the bathtub and helped her dry off, get dressed, and brushed her hair and put it in a ponytail. It was almost bedtime. What did I do when my kids were that age before bed? Yes! We read books.
I might be a shitty mom but that's one thing I also did. Every night we read 3 books until they were old enough to read independently. We had so many great books. I've packed almost all of them up in the attic and I will give them to the children when they have kids of their own. I have books from when I was a kid. It is one of the things I am sentimental about.
I thought that surely there must be one kid's book laying around. I went into my 9 year old's room. There were only novels and Harry Potter sitting on the nightstand. My 11 year old has Ninth Grade Slays and other various teen novels. My kids read some big-ass books. Sometimes I see them and I'm like, "What are you reading? The Holy Bible?" I went downstairs to the bookcase and I found a kid's book. The Missing Piece.
Red took one look at it and her eyes lit up, "OHHH! This is about Pac Man." haha. After we read, I helped her brush her teeth and laid down with her in bed. My 9 year old laid down to her on the floor. "Close your eyes and pretend like you are sleeping and don't move until I tell you." She hummed for a little while and played with my daughter's Mickey Mouse and then fell fast asleep. I climbed out of bed and nudged my 9 year old. "Is she asleep?" she asked in a whisper. I nodded. She got of and silently tip-toed out of the room. It was ironic because that's what we did every night when she was little.
We hung out for a little while and then I fell fast asleep. I woke up at 5:51. Red was at the edge of my bed, crying because she had a bad dream. I kicked my husband out and let her climb into bed with me. She put her cheek on my cheek. So cute. She went back to sleep for like, an hour and a half. Then she was UP. I was so tired, so I told her to wake up my daughter to play with her. haha. That's what I call PAYBACK.
I heard my husband downstairs. I told the girls to go down and ask him to put on a show so I could get a little more sleep. I got up after 20 minutes and went downstairs. My husband had put on Bob Ross for them.
"Why did you put this on?" I asked.
"Bob Ross is awesome. The kids like it."
I turned to the girls. "You guys like this?"
Red said, "It's ok. I like painting." LOL.
I made them breakfast and I sat down to drink a cup of coffee. She came in from the kitchen. "Look Mrs. J, I made a tattoo." She revealed her forearm and showed a heart that she scribbled in gold PERMANENT MARKER on her arm. I took a sip of my coffee and shrugged. Well, I kept her alive and that's all that really matters.
I read the news while she played on her tablet. Then I helped her get dressed. She asked for a snack and a drink. I went downstairs to fix one for her. I offered her some healthy options but she asked for BBQ chips. "Sure." She ate and soon it was time for her to be picked up. She hugged me and thanked me and gave me a huge smile. She had orange, BBQ chip crumbs all around her lips. Sweet thing.
I went back into the house and sat down and thought, "Wow! I forgot how demanding it is to have a young child!"
I make my kids meals and I remind them of what they need to do but mostly, they can do everything for themselves. They bathe themselves, fix their own snacks, clean their own rooms, put on their own coats, wipe their own faces. I mean, everything. In the words of my sister, "You have adult-children!!!" I don't have toys in my house. If it weren't for the worn rocking horse in the corner, and the book bags sitting on the front door you might not know that there were children in this house at all. It makes my heart ache a little.
I am in awe of parents with kids under the age of 5.
I mean, they have to be on 24/7. There are no naps. There are no lazy afternoons. They button buttons, fight with kids to put their shoes on, lift them up to wash their hands, bathe them EVERY NIGHT, read and kiss boo-boos, fetch snacks and drinks, clean up spills and messes, have living rooms covered in toys and crayons, calm tantrums, wake up REALLY REALLY early.
It's the trade-off I guess, because kids under 5 are sweet. They just love you no matter what and everything is new. Time does not really exist and they find joy in the smallest things. You can spell in front of them and they don't understand. They still like to snuggle and be read to. It is the best part of parenting and the hardest part parenting all at once.
When you are in the midst of it, it's just so exhausting and so much of a whirl-wind that you don't realize the speed in which life passes by. It was nice to have a little one in the house for a while to remind me of that.
My 9 year old was in full-on crazy mode this weekend. I don't even know what to do with her. On Saturday afternoon, I decided to paint my bedroom. It's needed to be painted for like, 5 years. It was the hottest mess. There was something on the ceiling, I'm not sure what is was but it looked a little bit like vomit. The paint was faded and smudged. The desk needed to be repainted. One of the asshole kids decided to play tic-tac-toe on the top of my white desk with sharpie.
My husband was annoyed that I wanted to paint. I was like, "I can't live like this anymore. It's unacceptable. I'm not going to sleep in this room another night like this." I'm the lady who slept on a mattress on the floor for 3 years after we moved into this house. It takes me a little while to get my shit together.
I took down all the picture frames. They all had an inch of dust on the top of them. Gross. I disassembled the furniture, I pulled out the bed and headboard. Someone had spilled chocolate milk behind the bed. It was all on the wall. It looked like it had been there for years. I was like:
I had to scrub the walls before I could even paint them. My oldest was at a friend's house and my youngest wanted to "help." Which was fine but when kids want to help it means they are going to spill paint on the baseboards and complain after 2 minutes. I let her help with the painting. As expected, she became bored after a short while. She wanted to hang out while I painted. I was on a ladder and every 2 minutes she was like, "Mom, mom, mama, mommy. Look at me. Look at this. Mom, look...." I turned and she would do a cartwheel, or stand on one foot, or something else that I didn't care about seeing but had to pretend that I thought was amazing.
Normally, my kids never want to hang out but the minute that I'm doing something they need so much attention. I was not feeling it. She started climbing up the other side if the ladder. I was painting the vomit stain on my ceiling and she was like, "Mom, I need a kiss." So I stopped and gave her a kiss. After a few hours, I couldn't take it anymore. I turned to her and said, "Listen, I love you and I like to spend time with you but I need some time alone."
"But, mom. I need to be with you." I couldn't take it. "No. You have to go." She flipped out on me. "You are the worst mother!" She cried like I broke her dreams. Great. One of her friend's mom texted me asking for her to sleep over. It was like God was smiling down on me. My husband drove her over and I finished painting.
The next day, both kids came home in the afternoon. My husband whispered in my ear, "Our taste of freedom has come to an end." We were busy cleaning up and I had to go to the grocery store. When I got back, I instructed the children to get ready because we were going to go to a Super Bowl party. That's right - I got invited to a Super Bowl party. I didn't even have to pander to anyone to get an invite. I'm moving up in the world.
My 9 year old was like, "We need to go get Panther's tee shirts." Ummmm.....no. First of all, we are not even Panther's fans. We only are supporting them because they are geographically the closet team to us. Second of all, I'm not spending money on a tee shirt for this Super Bowl.
The look on her face immediately changed from calm to this:
The rage was intense. "WE CAN'T GO TO A SUPERBOWL PARTY WITHOUT PANTHERS SHIRTS!!!!"
"Yes we can. I'm not buying any shirts. Go put on something in the Panther's colors."
She put her hands on her hips. "REALLY MOM? REALLY? YOU ARE SO GHETTO. THIS IS CRAP."
I thought, Did my 4th grader just call me ghetto? She cried for 40 minutes before she realized that I wasn't going to give in. She came downstairs in black and blue. "Awww. You look nice, baby."
She crossed her arms and scowled at me, "Whatever. Are you happy now? Don't talk to me."
That's fine. You don't have to tell me more than once. We went to the party and she was great. In a good mood. We laughed and ate food. It was a nice time. We left after the half time show because it was getting late. She put on her pajamas and BEGGED us to watch the rest of the game. We gave in- the Super Bowl does only come once a year and it's an American tradition.
She was really into it. She was screaming at the TV, "Get the ball! Run! Run! Oh NO!" She threw her hands in the air with frustration. I was a little skeptical because I didn't know that she understood football but apparently she does.
The Panthers lost. She was so upset. Literally, devastated. It was so hard not to laugh. It was really over the top. I laid in bed with her and she ugly cried. Wailed. Snot dripping down her nose and everything. Poor baby. "It's okay," I said as she buried her sweaty little head into my chest, "It's only a game." She spoke softly between sobs. "But....I...wanted...them....to....win. They....deserve....better." More sobbing.
I couldn't make it better. She cried herself to sleep, poor thing. Every day is a roller coaster. I never know what I'm going to get from these kiddos.
On Saturday night I went over to a friend's house to hang out. A girls night - just what I needed. My youngest had a sleep over that night. I had such a nice time. We talked about hormones, church and husbands. I drank a Mikes Hard Lemonade. There were scented candles and s**t. That's how we roll. As the kids would say, we were getting "turnt up."
The time passed by so quickly that it was 1 am before I knew it. It was a rare event because I almost never make it past 10 am. I pull up in front of my house at 1:30 in the morning and it was glowing. What the hell? The dog greeted me at the door which meant no one had put her in her cage, which meant the likelihood that she pissed on carpet was very high.
I walked in and literally every single light was on in my house. The bathroom light, the kitchen, every light. I went upstairs and my husband was asleep with the bedroom light on. There was a movie still playing on TV. These people need to stop being afraid of the dark.
I crawled into bed around 2, after shutting off all the lights and letting out the dog. The stupid dog woke me up at 7 am the next morning. I got up and let her out, made breakfast and started cleaning the house and doing all the other crap that needed to be done.
By 8 pm last night I felt like I was dying. I went straight to bed. I usually lay with my 9 year old before bed but I couldn't move. My eyes were closed but I could hear her negotiate with my husband to move the dogs cage into her room. That was the ONLY way that she would sleep in there. My husband relented and moved the cage into her room.
He laid down in bed with me a while later. Then my 11 year old came in. "My throat hurts. Can you make me some tea?" He groaned and got up to make her tea. "Give her some medicine," I mumbled incoherently. I was so tired. They went downstairs and he fixed her tea. While they were down there, I heard my 9 year old get up and yell down the stairs. "Dad, the dog won't go to bed!"
He yelled back up, "Just go to bed!"
He back up stairs and got into bed. A short time later my 9 year old appeared. "Daddy! The dog is standing up in her cage and won't go to bed."
"She's a dog. She will lay down. Just go to bed."
"But dad, she is not tired."
"What does that have to do with you going to bed?"
"She keeps looking at me."
He was getting so frustrated. "GO TO BED!"
Finally she went to bed and the two of us drifted into glorious sleep. Then I hear a voice, "I'm really hungry."
I opened one eye. It was 12:30 am. Why? "It's in the middle of the night," I groaned. "But my stomach hurts. I'm so hungry." I was still so tired. I had sleep paralysis. I couldn't move. I woke up my husband. "Please help me." He got out of bed, took her downstairs and fixed her a snack and sent her back to bed.
He is super awesome. Seriously, he didn't even complain about it. I am the worst mom. I let everyone fend for themselves last night. Thank goodness my husband has his act together. He's the ying to my bad mom yang.
