fly mama

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Marco......He sleeps with the fishes!

Every day has some type of drama. There can’t just be a day where there is peace.....calm. Last night there was pandemonium.....Peyton’s beloved teddy bear, affectionately named Teddy was missing! Now, we have had this dilemma before and the case has been easily solved. Some way Teddy has found his way deep under the sheets or gotten lodged between the foot-board and the mattress. Not the case this time. Teddy was nowhere to be found. An APB (all points bulletin) was ordered, and with Lucy asleep and Peyton laying awake in bed whining, "I just can’t go to sleep without Teddy".......detective Jeremy and I set off on our manhunt (errrr......bear hunt). Under the bed......the black hole called my computer desk......sheets torn off the stone, no pillow, no hamster left un-turned in this house. We hunted high and low........I even looked in the fridge in case Lucy decided he needed to cool off. There was no trace of his sweet Beanie Baby ass! I made a pit stop in Peyton’s room to wander aimlessly when Peyton whimpered....."What if we’ve been burglarized?"....of course while recounting this story to a dear friend on the phone this morning I had to inform her that I had to fight the urge to say..."Peyton, don’t you mean BEAR-glarized?" For the life of me and my exhausted husband.....the bear was gone! Peyton finally fell asleep as the search was winding down. This morning he awoke and declared that Teddy was in bed with him.....convinced that Jeremy found him and placed him lovingly in bed with an asleep Peyton, I went in to make the bed. Hmmmm......NO TEDDY! I scratched my head and called to Peyton who came running like a bat out of hell......"What mom?"......."Might you have dreamed that Teddy was back because he’s not in bed?" Sure enough the look on his face implied this just might have been the case. Fear set in........the search began with Peyton shouting, "Okay mom......let’s split up!" And then he persisted in following me around from room to room. I finally told him that I am a better detective when I work off I went. I had had it.......he wasn’t here.....his pudgy little bean stuffed body wandered off. I thought of one more place......of course thinking to myself-"’ll be here......such an obvious place".....and sure as shit there he sat. Obviously when Peyton went to brush his teeth yesterday morning he set him on a stack of towels, wherein our dear friend Teddy fell to the floor and sat all alone between the towels and the bath tub. Now......I am left with today’s drama.......can I convince Peyton that his sweet little goldfish somehow got the lid off of his tank and jumped two feet into the kitchen sink? I thought of telling him that his fish had died and then have him partake in some type of fish funeral where he could deliver the eulogy-but then I opted out.......scooped him up-bid him adieu (well, I actually said, "Marco, you have been a good fish may you live long and prosper in fish heaven").......then FLUSH! And then of course checked (and double checked) to make sure he stayed down......wouldn’t that be traumatic, if the little dude went in to pee and Marco was staring back......that could require years of therapy! I don’t know if I can keep these shenanigans up for the next......hmmmm, 18 years!

Friday, June 09, 2006

All Hail the Boo Boo's

I remember weaning Peyton from the bottle. I truly thought it was going to be the most trying and difficult thing I had ever done. On the contrary, the little angel obeyed mommies wishes without any hesitation. The morning of his dentist appointment-a sweet 2 year old Peyton helped mom bag up his bottles and nipples to hand over to his dentist. Okay, so I lied and told him that ALL two year olds had to turn in their bottles to the dentist-it was against the law for him to still have them at that age. It worked like a charm....I was so proud of my little boy and my creative mind for coming up with this that I still glow about it. However, I am not being nearly as creative with coming up with a solution to get 19 month old Lucy off of my now very tired and lifeless breasts! The other day while standing in the kitchen.....Lucy was doing her little dance....."Boo Boo" she demanded while running in circles laughing. I was trying to think fast.....I grabbed at my chest, pretended I pulled my breasts off, crumpled the invisible boo boo’s up and threw them in the trash! She looked at me shocked as though she knows they are not detachable, however she did walk over to the trash can, crack it so her cabbage patch kid arm could fit in and waved bye bye to them. IT DIDN’T WORK! How do you convince them that enough is enough. I am desperate to wean.......everyone says, "Put your foot down, stick with it, she’ll get over it" threshold for high pitch screams and antics are at a minimum these days. It’s not like these little bad boys supply her with nutrients at this point.....they supply her with comfort.....that’s about it. I do want her to feel comfortable.....just not hanging off of my now deflated chest. They were once perky......on the small side, but they resemble a deflated balloon that’s been blown up and had the air let out 1,000 least I think they do, thank god I don’t have a full length mirror to examine them closer. I swear she comes near them and I hear them shriek! At this point she thinks she owns them......she lifts my shirt and if I place my hand in their vicinity to try and save them......she screams..."NO!" When did I sign the rights over on my body? OH...that’s right, when I had kids........I forgot I signed that paperwork in an Epidural and Pitocin induced high at the hospital!
Seriously, maybe we should hold an intervention at this point.....okay, she’s only 19 months-she can’t reason at all.....but there has to be some way to put a stop to all this madness! If she would promise to stop, I would do anything......ANYTHING to get her off. Walk on hot coals, no problem! Sleep on a bed of nails......piece of cake! I would dress as Dora and dance around the house daily....there is no telling what I will do. Well, pretty much anything but listen to the screaming antics of a breast starved 19 month old! Here is my plea for help......I need support, backing.....people to remind me that this is possible and it’s not forever.......she will eventually forget they are even this point I just give in, cave......"HERE, TAKE THEM"-I shout at her...."JUST STOP CRYING!". I wish she could just take them......walk away and take them in the other room.....bring ‘em back when she’s done.....check ‘em back in like a library book. I know there will come a day when she’s grown and I will look back on all of this and remember it fondly, giggle at the promise that I made to myself to only breast feed until she was 6 months, twinge with pain when I remember clogged ducts. I will never look at my boo boo’s the same! These bad boys have not only fed and supplied this little one with the juice of life....but had the life sucked out of them and just keep on giving! ALL HAIL THE BOO BOO’S!

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Memory Lane

In an attempt to exercise I am going to take a jog down memory lane. It is amazing to me how certain smells can take us back to a time and place.......we feel things we felt at the time. How wonderful (and yet scarey) the mind can be. Finesse shampoo and conditioner will forever remind me of junior high. All my friends and I used it on our feathered Farrah Fawcett locks. If you passed by us sitting on the wall outside of school you would receive a Finesse buzz......I can’t even crack a bottle of this memory maker without thinking of this time and place. On trips to the grocery store I will crack a bottle and take a whiff just to take myself back to this time in my life. The scent of nail polish and polish remover take me back to going to the hair salon with my mother. I would sit at one of the nail tables and paint my nails......or for grins the girls at the salon would do my hair and then try and calm me down when I finally saw myself in the mirror and began crying. Mom always walked in there looking beautiful, but she glowed when she walked out. Maybe some of it was the pungent smell that she breathed in for the 3 hours she was there mixed with the glass of wine they had served her......I don’t know, but whatever it was-she was radiant. Tuna fish will forever remind me of my grandmother. After school I would go to her house where she would make the most divine batch of tuna....the perfect amount of tuna, mayo, seasoning, celery and love. You could taste the love in her tuna fish sandwiches! There we would sit on her couch, eating tuna fish sandwiches and grapes and watching her soaps. As I child I loved the feeling of being near her-as an adult I love the fact that I can still remember this feeling. With this feeling also comes the feeling of maturity.....reaching the age where she would allow me to walk down the hall of her apartment building and enter THE ROOM! The garbage room that didn’t smell like garbage, but it had a distinct odor of it’s own. I would push the heavy door open, the light switch never kind of flickered in all its florescent lighting glory.....I would pull the garbage chute door down, drop the bag inside and run for my life as if I were being chased by an pack of angry heart still palpitates thinking about it. Sometimes it not just smells, but actual things that remind us. Izod sweaters will forever remind me of grandpa-bless his sweet, sweet heart-he had more Izod sweaters then Mr. Roger’s. I remember my mom, aunts and grandmother always commenting on which colors looked best on him. I think he ate sloppily so that they would get stained-this way he always knew what his girls (grandma included) would get him for the holidays and his birthday. I have one of his sweaters and think of him every time I open my closet and see it hanging there......stained, just as it should be. I can’t see a Corvette without thinking of my stepfather.......a new one-an old one, it doesn’t matter-my mind goes right to Jack. Jack believed that the car you drove reflected the person you were......and Jack was undoubtedly a Corvette! I can’t see a Zebra pattern without thinking of my brother Jeff’s teenage bedroom. Maybe it wasn’t actually as bad as it seems in my head, but I remember it looking as though a herd of Zebra were skinned and used to decorate this room. I wasn’t allowed in there, but remember peeking in the cracked door and witnessing it in all its Zebra-ness. I should state that this was the mid 1970's-so Zebra was quite acceptable for a teenage boy. I need to ask my sister-in-law if she gets taken back to his old bedroom when she sees Zebra print. Maybe it was the Zebra print that seduced her?
Well....I think I have gotten enough exercise for today. Time to go and create some memories with my own little critters!

Saturday, June 03, 2006

The on-going going-ons

Okay...okay.......I admit it! I am guilty! Lock my ass up and throw away the key. I know you are all guilty of this as well (maybe not Blog related), but definitely in other forms. It’s kind of like when you see someone you haven’t seen in a while and you say, "Oh, I’ll call you next week and we can get together for lunch"........a week turns into two weeks and two weeks turn into a month and a month turns into months. get the picture.....kind of? You mean to make the phone call, but OOOOOPS! Suddenly it feels like too much time has passed and it feels awkward.....that is how I feel about this post. And so, I apologize......It was been WAY too long.
There has been tons going on......we survived Puke-fest 2006 (thankfully it only lasted a few days, but rendered us all immobile and landed Lucy in the hospital). Peyton graduated from Pre-K (WHOA WHOA!). Lucy is putting words together to make 2 word phrases. Her affection for Spongebob has grown to an almost scarey point. Anything Spongebob that she sees at the store gets lovingly toted around with her shrieking, "Monga...Monga"-complete strangers look to me for an explanation. We have a new addition to our humble home-a 9 week old dwarf hamster Peyton lovingly named Sparky and then changed to Peanut. We gave in after him asking 1 million times if he could have a hamster. I decided to press my luck, seeing as I don’t have enough critters to keep alive-2 kiddos, 2 cats, a goldfish (won at the carnival 14 weeks ago), a small tank of sea monkeys (which I fear are breeding....can they do that?), and now Sparky/Peanut. He seems like a nice enough little critter.....doesn’t mind being handled, doesn’t mind Lucy’s big face shrieking every time she sees him (I can only imagine what she must look like to him)-so far so good......he seems more adjusted then the rest of us. Having Lucy is like living with a small puppy-she needs constant watching.....she is trying to potty train (which is GREAT)-however she insists on having her diaper off and streaks throughout the house....all fine and good, but when she can’t make it to the potty-I have to wipe up her little puddles. Toilet paper must be completely out of her sight, she will climb Mt. Everest to rip off a small piece to stick in the potty or her mouth-it just depends on her mood at the time. Peyton is reading and putting words together...he’s writing the way words sound which is so damn cute......well, with the exception of last night! Pissed at me because I finally made him the cheese and spinach quesadilla he kept asking me for (we are trying to eat healthier)-once the plate was on the table and he saw the green peeking out from the inside he got upset! Grabbed a piece of paper and wrote: BIG AS HOL.....
Yes....I think he was calling me a BIG ASSHOLE because I made him eat it! Okay...I admit taunting him a bit....sometimes I just can’t help it. When they take a bite and make the notorious poop face it’s like they are an open target. I couldn’t help put pipe up and say....."What’s with the face......are you eating some poop you found in the yard?" I think it made matters worse and that was what the cryptic letter he wrote was regarding. There are other tauntings that go on around here...that I claim to have started. When Peyton acts up I speak in a shrill English accent and declare, "I am Mother Summer, I control all the fun and not so fun things you do this Summer!" When he pipes up and says she doesn’t really exist, I declare...."Is that a chance you are willing to take?" He asks me to be Zombie Mommy with such zest and enthusiasm that I can’t resist! Arms straight out...legs stiff, glassy eyed look on my face I stomp around the house....he screams and runs from me-afraid that I am no longer myself he shouts, "Stop it mom....MOM!".....I eventually give in, but well after he has asked me to return to my REAL form (which isn’t that far off from Zombie Mommy!) He likes to be scared, but also likes to control the situation and declare when enough is enough.......I usually carry it on a bit longer, I JUST CAN’T HELP IT! And we are! Pretty much up to date, minus some small details.
Time to go feed the hamster, the kids, the cats, the fish and the sea one will be left behind on my watch! (Okay.....I admit to wanting to starve his sea monkeys! Don’t go calling PETA on me-they are JUST sea had a better idea......just flush them! Thanks that’s what happened to all of our fish?)

Monday, March 27, 2006

All Systems a Go-Go

At 10:30 am yesterday, I could be found flying around the house like a chicken with my head chopped off. It was to be a day of ME! I had my appointment at the spa at noon. I flew out the door at 10:45 and didn’t look back, I feared if I did I wouldn’t go. I have never left the kiddos all day and feared for not only them, but the survival of my husband and niece who were watching them. I found myself sailing down the highway at 65mph, blasting the Ramones in my husbands pick up truck......that’s when it hit me! I was alone.......ALONE! I felt this horrible pang of guilt......would they all be okay? Would my husband remember all the tricks I told him that morning to keep Lucy in check? “If all else fails.....a warm bath or a trip into Peyton’s room usually calms her” I shouted at him while hopping in his truck. I willed myself to keep driving.....they’ll be fine I tried to convince myself. I arrived at my appointment 2 minutes early-I sat patiently......the girl behind the counter wasn’t the little bird I had spoken to on the phone-her voice was of the non-chirpy variety. YEAH! I was called back.....first the facial (skipped the glycolic peel)-it was bliss, the girl was great-however we talked about my kiddos non-stop, which didn’t allow me to let go competely....but it was still incredible. But then.....OH, but then.....after the facial I was wisked off by Ana for my hot stone treatment. BLISS! I was so relaxed I bet I barely had a pulse.......sweet silence.......I was taken outta my tired body and placed somewhere far, far away. Unfortunately, it had to end (as all great things do). Then I ran off to hunt down a cuppa coffee-this found me in the shopping center where I was to meet husband, niece and my darlings for an early dinner. I got there super early, grabbed a coffee at the bookstore and located some new books for Peyton (he now takes gifts as a sign that you are thinking of him, I couldn’t disappoint). After dinner-my next excursion took place. My niece and I went to go see the GO-GO’S ! ARGH!!!!!!! I have been walking around the house for days singing Go-Go songs. The tickets were part of my anniversary present from my husband.........I was skeptical that he could handle the darlings for the evening-and was nervous of what I would find when we arrived home from the concert......but I WAS GOING TO SEE THE GO-GO’S!!!! They were awesome! From one song to the next....I was screaming and jumping around......even shared a beer with my niece-so this is what it was like......a day to myself......for fun....mommy time. As we pulled up to the house at about midnight, I feared the carnage I might find inside.....I glanced in the front window.....Peyton was crashed on the couch, so far so good. We quietly crept inside......tip toed around, hmmm-where were Lucy and hubby.......sound asleep in Peyton’s bed! He did it! He pulled it off! The kids survived a full day without mom! The good news is that I have a renewed confidence in my husband’s child caring capabilities......the bad news (for him is), now that I know he can hold down the fort.......I WANT MORE MOMMY TIME!!!!

Saturday, March 25, 2006

A little birdie told me........

The options are endless. I am stumped. For Christmas I received a gift certificate for the spa....or rather the "SPAHHHHHHH". I haven’t used my time yet when I was rewarded with more spa time for my birthday. I was scheduled to go in last Sunday, but have been ill-so I am now rescheduled for this Sunday. When I called to reschedule I vacillated about the services I was scheduled for.....I went back and forth. ARGH! The girl on the phone kept offering suggestions, this only frustrated me.....she had no clue what this stressed out, exhausted, stay at home mama could possibly need. With Lucy screaming bloody murder in the background-the girl placed me on hold-I then realized that she was placing Lucy on hold, not me. When she came back she eagerly and far too enthusiastically piped in with..."Soooooo, have we decided yet?"-Grrr.....I wanted to scream, "STOP RUSHING ME!" instead I politely said, "Do you hear this screaming? This is why I am coming to the spa....this is a long awaited doesn’t happen very often.....I just want to make sure I get it right".........great, she made me lose focus! hour Massage.....oooooooooh, the Seaweed Body Masque. No......wait! Hold the phone........"THE HOT STONE MASSAGE!" I blurted out with Lucy’s enthusiasm every-time she sees Dora. "And what else...." chirped the little bird on the phone. EEEK! Okay....think, think, think.....I am tapping my forehead like Winnie the Pooh does when he forgets what he was trying to remember. I wanted to try new services.....things I have never had done (I may regret this later....but for now, I am living on the edge baby!)........."A European facial........AND A GLYCOLIC PEEL".......I shout out....I’m not sure why I chose this...maybe it’ll peel away my old self and reveal a new, beautiful, invigorated me! Birdie chirps back...."We only recommend the peel in series of 6-you won’t get the full benefit from just one treatment".......tempted to ask her if she also babysat and would she mind watching my cuties so that my skin could reap the full benefits of 6 Glycolic Peel treatments over the next 6 weeks.......I politely said, "Oh......well then...." and began (LOUDLY) flipping the pages to my little spa booklet. Upon hearing the pages turn she chirped into the phone, "You can speak with the esthetician once you get here....I’ll just schedule you and you can always change the service if you decide to......" This satisfied both of us and we hung up. Going to the spa is supposed to be a relaxing experience.....for me, it can be stressful-at least initially. I am out of place.....I don’t feel comfortable for about the first 15-20 minutes. I am not someone who goes all the time......I go a couple of times a year, bless my dear husbands heart for buying me gift certificates (and sometimes scheduling the appointment for me). I feel like I stick out among the usual crowd that go and get pampered every week........."OH...I need a massage sooooo badly, carrying around my miniature Chihuahua has hurt my back!"......GAG! I really don’t feel welcome there......almost takes me back to high would be like going to sit with the cheerleaders and surfers at lunch........not very comfortable. In the end....I go! I enjoy it! I leave wanting to skip out the doors.....singing a little diddy. I do hope the little birdie that annoyed, oooops-I mean helped me on the phone isn’t there. Of course, thanks to my MSTM (mommy short-term memory), I don’t remember birdies name.......although I am SURE she remembers mine!

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Spring Cleaning

I have this "Don’t talk to me until I have had my coffee" policy first thing in the morning. I can’t speak properly anyway-and in the morning I am a bit incoherent. I think it’s best for all parties involved that this be our policy. This morning was no exception, except Peyton stormed out of his room and said, "What the hell is going on?" I have noticed a shift in his language-he is attempting to use curse words in sentences to see what reaction they bring on......this morning earned him an arm grab and a reprimand....the coffee was still sinking in-only now it was sinking in with the word HELL coming out of my 5 year olds mouth-all at 7:15am. Tammy Wynette says it best in the song Kids Say the Darndest Things...she belts out, "My fourth grader just said a four letter word and it sure wasn't love!" I must admit that I have been told I talk like a truck driver......I try to curb it, but sometimes these "sentence enhancers" get the best of me. I throw them in where they don’t need throwing in-I admit it, the usage of these words is out of hand.....but what the hell am I supposed to do at this point? Peyton is learning what is acceptable and not acceptable. When I told him this morning that his language was not allowed-he stormed off muttering something-I think he called me an ass! However, I am unsure-so that one just slid by. We have threatened the bar of soap in the mouth, but with oatmeal and blueberry soap, I think he would think we were force feeding him breakfast! They might just taste as yummy as they smell-that would be my luck! Sometimes, on occasion, he makes up his own curse words....he alters the original word (slightly)-you can still tell what word he is trying to get away with saying. I know this is typical of this age (or so I have been warned)-but what do you do when the words are already there? They are out there...swimming in his little head, looking for ways to work themselves into his sentences-waiting........and then BAM! There they are, for all to hear.....I look like a bad mom for allowing it, I mean where else would my little angel pick up these words, right? I know he gets them from me.......I have told him to use other DESCRIPTIVE words, I have even suggested options......that seems so boring in comparison. What do you do when your kiddo is sitting on the couch, lets out a huge yawn and says, "DAMN, I’m tired!" He probably is......I know I am! Maybe we both need our mouths washed out with soap.....a spring cleaning of our vocabulary, if you will. I don’t know if it’ll work, but it just might wash out the bad taste I get in my mouth every time I hear him say something I KNOW he’s gotten from me!

Thursday, March 09, 2006

The BIG question..........

Does size matter? Gasp! No, I’m not talking about that......I am talking about body size. I phoned the lab to get my blood results. Placed on hold, there I sat through Barry Manilow, Stevie Wonder........(come on come on.......I’m tapping my fingers)....some other horrible singer starts chiming in when...PHEW! I’m rescued. Okay...okay, tell me the news. How bad is it...I’m cringing.....she’s telling me the numbers and I keep hearing her say..."and that’s is that".......SO! What’s my problem? My cholesterol! Size DOES NOT matter! I am almost 5'7"- and 98 pounds, which is why my doctor ordered the $200+ worth of bloodwork....I am losing weight. I’m not a mouse, I don’t eat cheese 24-7. I happen to be a vegetarian that cooks in olive oil only (extra virgin). The numbers left her horrified......high 240's! I all of the sudden felt like the hottie Sean Connery-esque guy on the cholesterol commercial. Hubba hubba......women sitting by the pool, eyeing him, almost drooling.....he strips out of his shirt and dives into the pool.....BELLYFLOP! Looks can be deceiving, they flash a high cholesterol number on the screen. I am now this guy! Only....I’m not hunky.....nor do I look like Sean Connery (although at his ripe ‘ol age he still makes me drool). "Change your diet"-the lab tech says, "exercise.....chasing the kids around doesn’t keep your heart pounding for more then 30 minutes"-she doesn’t have my two, how would she know? I am flabbergasted! "Eat healthy, exercise more.....your heart can’t keep this up", she tells me, " Something has to give, a person your size should not have this problem". Clearly she hasn’t seen the cholesterol commercial where they state..."She has dad’s eyes, mom’s turned up nose.....and Uncle Fred’s high cholesterol!" I am now a living, breathing cholesterol commercial. I admit readily that it runs in my family-but so does being a neurotic, hypochondriac. My family self diagnosis’ using a medical book and prescription pill dictionary. I do not lie! I and my kids and my high cholesterol.....just the 4 of us, watching cartoons and thinking about taking a walk.....I will tell you that even thinking about taking a walk gets my heart pumping.....nothing like pushing a "sit and stand" stroller that weighs almost as much as the person pushing maybe my cholesterol will be lower, but then what will we do about my hernia?

And the angels sang.......

Little did he know what he was in store for. My husbands friend phoned the other night while my husband was out of town. I answered the phone and explained that he was out of town and would be back late that night. He made the HUGE mistake of asking how I am doing (bless his sweet sweet heart). I should say that he has an almost two year old himself, so there is some understanding there. Off I flew...full force. Hey, he asked, right? When I explained that Peyton had bronchitis and pink eye in both eyes.....and that I hadn’t slept a wink since hubby left 2 days ago.......and Lucy has to have eyes glued on her or she will jump off the couch like she were stage-diving into a mosh pit-only no one would be there to catch came! The words I’d been starving for, from a man that is. I sat speechless as he acknowledged all I do. "You are the ONLY person I know that never gets a do this all day and all night without a moment to yourself! I mean it...I don’t know how you do it!" Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh......I heard the angels sing. Amen, brother! It’s not that my husband doesn’t acknowledge what I’s just that he himself is beat down and exhausted....sometimes he can’t even acknowledge that little elves DON’T come and bathe our the laundry.....and make dinner. I felt a sense of accomplishment.......I was getting recognized for what I was doing.......placing my passions on hold to child rear. It’s not that I don’t love what I do....I do....but I also need to feel appreciated. I think any stay at home parent DESERVES this. No....we don’t leave the kiddos and house all day to go to work and mingle with adults and lunch with co-workers, I know there is stress in being the sole breadwinner-no question about it. But, we are left to eat leftover grilled cheese crusts and Cheerios off the floor, while singing kiddie tunes and being climbed on like a jungle gym......ALL DAY. I felt relieved having had this said to me......and I think he enjoyed the conversation-as he laughed at every word that came out of my mouth. I actually felt like a grown up.......and a funny one. I hadn’t completely lost it, although I was mighty close! The conversation ended when I saw that is was 10pm and Peyton had crept out of his bed and made his way to the couch..... I declared, "Well, Peyton has snuck out of bed let me go strangle him.....I mean wrangle him back into bed!" We got off the phone.......I ushered the boy back into bed.......wherein Peyton uttered the words all parents fear...."I hate you!"....I was still soaring from my conversation-even those hurtful words didn’t scathe me, because it was now out there.........I am appreciated-my household appreciates me, however the appreciation gets lost under the piles of toys, drawings or it gets shoved under the couch where any human should fear to tread......"I love you babe", I said to Peyton after his mean comment-and I floated off to the living room.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

The same old song.......

I have been playing this song over and over again in my head. What to do....I am at a loss......what comes next? I ask myself this several times a week. I should elaborate.....what comes next after both kiddos are in school full days.......what will I do? I know there is some time before this huge decision needs to be made, but seeing as I am one of the most indecisive people on the face of the earth, I think I need to start thinking now.....hmmm, 4 years in advance! The photography thing isn’t going to’s fun to shoot and show my work, but for the most part-it doesn’t that pretty much isn’t an option. I’m not trained in much else. Although I love Dairy Queen, I don’t think I really want to work there! There aren’t many places in our small town.......I could go 13 miles to the next town.....but then what? We have a Chili’s (I’ve never been a waitress before and no restaurant wants to be the first place you serve at)), Home Depot (.......and although I think I’d look downright cute in the orange apron, I don’t think that’s their criteria for hiring someone). I rack my brain (which at this point has shrunk from that of an average size human to that of a bird) on what I could do. For monetary reasons, as well as sanity purposes I need to do something. I know what I don’t want to do......I don’t want to take care of anyone’s children. I could become a substitute teacher, but that doesn’t pay much (poor poor teachers, I feel for them) and that kind of falls into the category of taking care of others kiddos. Fast food places aren’t going to happen.....I can’t see myself saying, "Would you like fries with that?" A hundred times a day without being bitchy-I’d want to send the customers to time out for eating so much fast food. There is so little out here that I could do. What I would love to do is become a contributing writer for a magazine........or have advertising agencies fight over my photography.......a girl can dream, can’t she? I think many of us think about this.....I don’t want to be kicking 40 in the butt and not knowing what I should do next. I want to do something creative.......I think I could do the most and it would be the most rewarding. I have all of this silver-smithing stuff. Not too long ago I decided I wanted to make jewelry-I could incorporate my photography into the work-I am still excited over this prospect, however-all of the tools sit in a drawer waiting for me to chisel some time out of my crazy life to sit down and tinker. If I start 4yrs I might actually be pretty damn good! But that, like so many things in my life-seems over the hills and through the woods.....far, far away. I think that working somewhere that I’d actually have to go on an interview would render me incapable-at this point I am socially challenged-I get excited about talking to grown ups......yet can’t really speak properly....I am too paranoid that I am going to talk in kiddie terms and instead just stand there (pretty much speechless) which makes me look mindless. I then resort to "after the fact analogue" where you sit and go over the conversation in your head and say the things you wanted to say or meant to say. I would love to go back to school and get educated on some things, however that again requires time-which we all know I lack. So, here I sit.....pondering like Winnie the Pooh (of course all Pooh ponders about is honey, which I hate)-no offense Pooh....momma has bigger fish to fry. And that folks is just what I am talking about regarding my talking in kiddie terms....I can’t see sitting down for an interview (let’s say at Home Depot, land of the cute aprons-in the gardening area) and them telling me about the trees they sell.....I would go into song..."Under a shady and me.....under a shady and me" (those of you that don’t know what Jack’s Big Music Show is-are missing out!) Anything can set me off singing kiddie tunes! If I worked at a restaurant and someone was ordering mash potatoes I would bust out with the Wiggles..."Mash Potato Mash Potato.....Cold Spaghetti Cold Spaghetti"
I can’t control it. I sing the start up songs to the shows.....I sing the songs they sing during the show....I sing the songs they play during commercials. I often place my words into the songs (not always child friendly). Of course.......who’s to say that I won’t be committed before my 4 year deadline........hmmm, sitting in a padded room-numb, meals prepared for me, they’d probably medicate me so that I could finally sleep......and I could sit-"Under a shady tree"-eating-"Mash Potatoes Mash Potatoes" and no one would think twice about it!

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Confessions of Mommy Masochism

Yes.....we all know them. I am one.....I have friends that, yourself might be one and not even know it. We take on more then we can chew and do so willingly. Being that we live where we do, I never really got Peyton into Gymboree or other activities as a small babe. We went to the park, went to the library and filled our days with other activities. Let me say that today tee-ball has started, however practice started over a week ago and I am learning that I am in fact a self induced mommy masochist. My Monday evenings find me at Tae Kwan Do and tee-ball, with an hour in between to cram dinner down our throats. This all began after Pre-K testing at Peyton’s school. I met with his teacher to go over his results. As I sat there going over his scores, his teacher informed me that we NEED to get his gross motor skills caught up with his fine motor skills. The kid was in the top 10% for his age group in everything, but his gross motor skills. This being said, I should inform that he is the kid that role plays at the park instead of running and jumping like most others. He would rather be a Power Ranger on a secret mission then dangle from the monkey bars where he might break his neck. He has always been cautious, at first I thought I DID this to him. "OH! Be careful baby!" I would shout if I thought he would hurt himself on the jungle wonder why he still loves the baby swing-I convinced him this would be the safest place on the park.....rather then the evil slide! Should I have done things differently? First came Tae Kwan Do-it teaches self discipline, which we lack a bit of. We have this each Monday and Thursday evening, easy enough. Basketball, while a brief season-only 6 weeks-nearly killed me along with Tae Kwan Do (practice every Wednesday night from 6-7 and games at 9am on Saturday). I can hardly handle one thing......why try and do two? Why? Because all the moms I spoke with agreed that 2 sports was imperative (and their children didn’t lack in gross motor skills)-so basketball ended and now tee-ball has begun! This morning found me up at 6:30am rushing around like someone lit a fire under my arse! Throwing things around, tee ball pants...belt...cleats....hat.....the pay off? He looked far too cute in the get up! The other pay off? My child throwing Tae Kwan Do punches at me as I tell him to smile for his pictures! Joy! Bliss! Opening ceremonies start in 30 minutes and the baby is crying at my feet and Peyton is having a fit because his cleats keep coming untied! In reality, all of this is small potatoes........but for right now it is making me want to go on strike! Can I do that?
At open house at school this week, Peyton’s teacher informed that she sees major growth in his gross motor skills....he is less reserved on the playground, running and jumping. Pleased that there has been growth, I quickly snuck my arm around and patted myself on the back-and then I waited.....surely she would ask how I was doing.....right? He’s in 2 sports....2x a week with Tae Kwan Do and 3x a week in tee ball......I sat there anticipating the question....."And how are you doing mom?" But it never came......I left disappointed. So, I will tell you how I am doing......spent, no-make that SPENT! I have a pain in my back that feels like someone has me in a bear hug. Tee ball might just finish me off......this should be fun, right? It’s not.....
I am screaming at the kids.....flying around on my broom.....and asking myself why am I doing this. His gross motor skills? No, I think one sport could help with that.....or we could turn his computer off and get him outside in the yard more.....but NO! Instead I resort to mommy masochism.......bring it on baby.....thrill another sport, throw it my way! I dare ya!
The game is now over and we are home.......-two hours later. After hugs and apologies with my sweet boy-the TRUE pay off was the look on his face after bolting off of third base and hitting boy scored! Setting my mommy masochism aside...I will do what-ever, matter how torturous just to see that smile running to home base!

Thursday, March 02, 2006

AADD-Adult Attention Deprivation Disorder

I am starved....I mean FAMISHED for adult interaction. I will speak to any grown up and am tickled when someone engages in conversation with me. It can be anything from a trip to the grocery store and helping an elderly man find the soup isle to running out to the mailbox as the mail lady pulls up. She thinks I am anxiously awaiting some reality I just want to talk to a grown up! That being said, I admit I spend a great deal of time on the phone. Many of my conversations aren’t actual conversations, they are time spent listening to friends discipline and praise their children (while I do the same)-holding an actual conversation is near impossible. Sure, we get in the, "So, what are you all up to today?" bit- but overall, I think we find comfort in hearing one another interact with our children and knowing that there is a grown up waiting in the wings should we want to say something that has more then 3 syllables and is remotely intelligent. As my husband heads out to work and takes his motorcycle-I bid him farewell in a sing songy-"Beeee Carefulllllll!"-as though he were Peyton going to our neighbors to play. I catch myself on several occasions using this this point I can’t help it. The words come out and it’s simply too late. Will I ever speak normal again-without the sing songy tone? I use made up words that only my children, not even my husband knows. "Do you need your ooter changed?" I ask Lucy...."Did you poot?".......where does this come from? How do we come up with these things? "Come here zsa zsa"-I say to Lucy, or "Let’s go chachi" (NO! I am not referring to her as Zsa Zsa Gabor or Chachi from Happy Days)-these are just words that I use and they come out of my mouth before I even have time to process them. HELP! I want to have an intelligent conversation over coffee, lunch with a friend and not be tempted to tell them to, "Eat their num nums"or be on the verge of asking my husband (upon seeing a band-aide on his finger), "How’d you get that bobo"-not a boo boo, but a bobo. Am I too far gone? Is there hope for me? I think I will gradually make my way back to normalcy (whatever that is). Until then I will be home changing Chachi’s pooty ooters and bandaging bobo’s.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Turtles & Spiders & Dinosaurs.....OH MY!

I consider myself a hands on mom. Not just because I am with the critters all day, but because I truly want my kids to remember and witness great things. Not only am I a rescuer of all toys that disappear under the couch, but I am a mom that goes above and beyond the call of duty. I rescue misguided turtles from the street, catch caterpillars and even tarantulas. One day my kids will recount these stories and acknowledge that mom truly was a freak! One day while Peyton and I were coming back from Austin we found a turtle that had made its way into the middle of the street. After flying by the thing, I had this pang of guilt. What if it gets squished......could I forgive myself? Around we turned-I grabbed it with some old newspaper that had found its way into the car and placed it on the seat. The damn thing finally realized it was no longer basking in the sun in the middle of the street and was in an air conditioned vehicle, zooming at 60mph with a screaming (almost) 2 yr old in the car. It decided to try and escape.....with us screaming at the top of our lungs for 10 miles (and me cussing the damn thing out)-we arrived at the lake where we bid our new dear friend a tearful adieu. We still talk about this wonderful excursion.
Last summer I witnessed several caterpillars munching on my Jasmine plant growing up our porch. What fun I thought as I scooped one up-we can feed it Jasmine and watch it turn into a butterfly or moth. Sure enough our caterpillar had built its crysaliss-it was nestled inside as we watched and waited. One summer day as Peyton played in the pool and I relaxed on the porch, I heard a cracking sound, I looked over and it was breaking out. I screamed to Peyton- who ran up immediately. The amazement in his young eyes! There it was...a huge moth. AMAZING! We let it sit and spread its wings. Later that day we set it free, where it sat on a flower pot on our porch for about 30 minutes. While Peyton was inside, I went out to check to see if it had flown away.....there it sat-wings going in and out. As I sat and admired this glorious creature......SWOOP! A bird flew down and grabbed it! I felt terrible. When Peyton inquired if it was still there....I declared, "No! It flew away!" (With a little help from a bird!)
Now...the tarantula. I don’t know if I am catching them because I prefer to have them caged outside, as opposed to loose outside our house. Peyton isn’t too terribly enthralled with them. The first one refused to eat the crickets I drove into Austin and spent 65 cents to get-and died. Of course Peyton thinks the cats knocked over its habitat and it ran away. The second one, which I caught a couple of days ago-does nothing for me. Please....I am a tarantula wrangler at this point. The thrill of the first one has long warn off. But I am petrified to let it go.......or drive it anywhere to let it go. So, there it sits.....trying to get out-as I hunt for bugs to feed it that it won’t eat anyway. I rescue squirrels from my cats, hose down tree trunks to get the frogs to hop out all over the sidewalk and marvel at the fact that I saw a live armadillo (usually I only witness them as road-kill). I share these exciting moments with Peyton and will soon share them with Lucy. With the excitement of a child, I shriek his name. Sometimes he looks disappointed, not nearly as excited as mom at these wonderful things. "Look!! The sunset is pink!" or "Peyton, quick a racoon.....come look!". We build volcanos that erupt, suck hard boiled eggs into glass jugs (with the help of his science book)-and excavate plastic dinosaur bones from plaster of paris.
I blast music in the car so that we can sing along and dance (if you have ever been behind me.....that is what we are doing!) We blow bubbles and dance around the kitchen like lunatics. In the summer we run through the sprinkler fully clothed or on big wheels (yes, I ride his big a problem with that?) I am proud to say that I love the toy store as much as my kids do! I look forward to this summer when Lucy can partake in our antics. There is nothing like sitting on the porch step in soaking wet clothes, eating freezer pops and picking out cloud shapes.
Someday we will talk about these great memories and laugh at our antics-so those of you that know me......remind me of all of these great things the next time you hear me screaming at the top of my lungs at the little darlings!

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

And the Rocket's red glare...........

I remember being a child and being SO excited about something I simply couldn’t control myself. Now, a mom-I giggle when I witness my sons excitement and astonishment over things. This recent burst of excitement involved a rocket, not a toy rocket, but a model rocket that he and dad put together (with some fine tuning by mom!). For two weeks Peyton walked around the house talking about the rocket, asking when we were going to let the rocket off and declaring his rocket could fly up to 600ft. He could hardly contain himself on Sunday when we declared that it was take off day for the rocket. This special model came with two engines-so we could watch this magical creation take off 2x. Even I was getting excited for lift off!
Late afternoon found us at the park, hunting for the perfect location to let the rocket off. Hmmm, no-not there, they are having a birthday party. Errr.....not there, the park ranger might tote us all off! Ahhh.....there. There, happened to be at the tail end of the park. No one in sight, just us and a fenced off area where things like farm animal shows are held. Thankfully no farm shows this weekend-so we found it to be the PERFECT spot. I got it all set up.....we stood far the was count down time. Peyton was the launcher....he no sooner counted 5.....4.....and the thing was off.....with a ZOOM......POW......we could hardly see the damn thing. SWISH! Out came the parachute as it sailed to the ground! My mouth dropped.....HOW COOL WAS THAT? Jeremy was delighted.......we were jumping around like two little kids......only Peyton was freaked out! It all happened so fast. And to make matters worse, the rocket chose to land in the fenced off area. Now Peyton was really freaked! I declared that I’d hop the fence to grab the rocket-I couldn’t believe the words as they came out of my mouth- I was going to hop a fence! And much like the was lift off time! There I was-over the fence grabbing the rocket and then back over again. I was in shock. I could still hop a fence! YEAH MOM!
Jeremy and I decided that we’d let the rocket off again....we’d move over a little bit and Jeremy would let it off so that Peyton would actually get to watch it. The poor little dude was crying...I just want to go home! I don’t want to let it off again......what if it goes over the fence again....the park ranger will come and mom will be in trouble. Mom was quite ready to take that was too cool to not see again. So, there we were.....take off 2. I knelt down next to Peyton, Lucy in my arms......WHAM! It was off again! As we all ran around like loonies trying to determine where it would come did just what we hoped to avoid.....back in the fenced area. Over the fence again for mom. This time Peyton wasn’t quite as upset by the whole experience. I think reality hit that mom just climbed a fence! As I was climbing back over, my little guy stood by the fence screaming, "When was the last time you climbed a fence college?" I couldn’t help but laugh. I think that was more intriguing to him then the actual rocket. He has inquired several times since Sunday about my fence climbing skills. Also, the rights and wrongs about climbing fences, as we have taught him to obey signs.....and when something says-"DO NOT ENTER"- you DO NOT ENTER. That was a fun one to explain. Nonetheless, the $30-rocket was a blast (no pun intended)-but equally as entertaining was mom climbing the fence (and not hurting herself). Jeremy and I are excited to see the rocket fly again-I think Peyton is as well, however we will choose a different location this time. Not that I can’t climb the fence anymore......but I think I am ready for more of a challenge. Maybe over the water so I can try and out swim a water moccasin....or the highway where I will have to dodge cars (like Frogger!).
Model Rocket: $29.99
Gas to find the perfect launch site: $2.00
Mom climbing a fence (and not hurting herself): PRICELESS!

Friday, February 24, 2006

Raising Boys

I feel a HUGE responsibility. Raising a boy is hard, I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders at times. His ability to love, nurture, understand and empathize are all things that his future partner will blame me for. Future conversations (with this now fictitious character) invade my thoughts. I can hear them saying, "Well....that’s because your mom was....blah blah blah" or, "If your mother weren’t wouldn’t have turned out this way". Now, I know there are many years before this fictitious person will come into our lives, yet still I worry about it.
It has been said to me several times that by the time kids turn 5 or 6-the ground work is set. This frightens me! Have I done all that I can do? Right now he is a great kid, not always as empathetic as I’d like-but I think he’s an exceptional boy. I still have another year to cram as much as I can what should I add? I don’t want to overdue it.......because that could come back to bite me in the butt. Where is the balance?
Peyton and I have a great relationship, sure there are times that I piss the little bugger off, and likewise. He gets embarrassed when I kiss him at school, if I hold his hand in public or stroke his hair lovingly in front of others. Will he grow up to not want any public affection shed on him? Or is he your typical 5 year old? Am I reading too much into this behavior? HELP!
I analyze, and over analyze. It has been said that a man’s relationship with his mother shows the type of man he will be to his future partner. I want Peyton to be compassionates, loving, yet not a sissy boy (sorry if that offends anyone). I think a perfect balance of mom and dad would be ideal. A greasy biker boy (a little Marlon Brando in The Wild One's) that is loving and creative (a little Ethan Hawke in Great Expectations). He can be all macho, but if he sees a hurt bird by the side of the road, instead of running the damn thing over and laughing about it later-he’ll stop and pick the thing up. Am I asking too much?
At 5 years old he already considers himself a ladies man. He has a girlfriend (which by the way became OFFICIAL this week when he told her she was his girlfriend and she declared "I WILL"-I told him he should ask her, he opted out of that one because she might say no). So, he has a girlfriend, but there are others that he calls his girlfriend as well, sure-not with the glimmer in his eye that he refers to his beloved. When I ask him why he has more then one, he replies, "Well, you have to make sure she’s the right one!" He already has a purple plastic ring from the gum-ball machine set aside to propose to her (to which I am sure she will declare "I WILL" when she is told they are going to get married!) He writes her notes and buys her gifts and talks about her constantly. So, aside from him telling instead of asking her to be his girlfriend, he seems to be doing pretty well. He is attentive to her when they are together and thinks about her all the time. If this is any indication, I would say we are doing pretty good and maybe I just need to settle down a bit.
I hope that his future partner and I get along-that there is harmony between us and that we genuinely like eachother, otherwise they are sure going to hate living next door to me!

Friday, February 17, 2006

A Night in the ER

I am not what I consider a drama mama. I call things like they are. I run and do.....stop and days seem endless. The one thing I rarely do is take time for myself. I don’t eat right.....I don’t drink enough fluids....and I don’t get nearly enough sleep. I guess it should not come as a surprise to me when the other evening I hit the wall. One in the morning found me praying to the tidy bowl man-I was stuck in this position for 2 hours before I realized something was in fact seriously wrong. I find it amazing that I NEVER hesitate taking the kiddos to the doctor, but will try and ride whatever I have out. After two hours curled up on the floor shivering, I crept into the bedroom and woke up my husband-explaining as much as I possibly could that I was sick, had to go to the hospital, would drive myself and he had to stay with the kids. Readily he agreed and I was on my way. I no sooner hit the ER doors and sat down to have my vitals checked, but was grabbed and bombarded by 4 nurses screaming numbers and throwing electrodes on me. I thought I was going to have a heart attack, the pace they were moving at was frightening-even to me who moves a mile a minute. After my body swallowed up one bag of IV in a half an hour, I regained some sense of what was going on.....the numbers they were screaming were my vitals which were so off the charts-they couldn’t believe I had driven myself to the hospital. My heart rate was 133, my blood pressure was high 70's over low 40' was I even coherent? I begged and pleaded for a cup of ice.....just one little piece of ice.....PLEASE! Just one of those cute little hospital ice tubes! Those of you that have ever been in the hospital KNOW these little ice creations.....what is it about hospital ice that sends me into orbit? And the thought of cranberry juice poured over these little tubes......BLISS! Needless to say, I couldn’t convince them at that time that I could ingest and keep even those cute little ice tubes down. Instead I earned a shot of Demerol and some God forsaken shot in my butt that hurt more then giving birth! Whatever was in that shot they should give to terrorists! YES! It was that bad! So.....I wound up being committed....OOOPS! I mean admitted (easy mistake). Which a short time later earned me my cute little ice tubes. YIPPEE!
We don’t really know what caused this little episode. The doctor believes it to be a combination of things......stomach virus on someone who already has an insufficient diet and fluid intake equals DISASTER! Thankfully, (after I had my fill of ice tubes) I convinced them I was ready to go home. Of course....there was only one way for them to let me leave.....could I keep their DELICIOUS hospital food down? (If I could keep that down.....anything stood a chance!) After slurping back a half a bowl of tomato soup and a cup of green jello (which I prayed was green for all the right reasons), sucked back some apple juice and iced tea.......and VOILA! An hour later.....I was good to go! This has given me a new sense of my bodies capabilities-while I love my coffee and my Chex Mix, a diet of those two things is not a sufficient one. My body is a machine and without the proper gas and oil cannot be kept in running order.
And so......I will drink more fluids, try to eat properly and lay off my dear friend Joe (coffee, that is). And for those of you that are familiar with those incredible little ice tubes located at every hospital nurses station-if you know where I can get them without being admitted into a hospital, please let me know!