I completely forgot about the 4 people who read this on a semi-annual basis!
I know, I know, your life has kind of been put on hold since I last posted, just waiting on some story that would make most people feel much better about their life, right? Ha! Yeah, I'm laughing at that one too. But as your life has surely gone on, so has mine. So to catch you up, I'll give you a brief synopsis:
Summer happened.
Kids survived.
I survived (barely).
Finlay walked.
Then turned One.
Hazelle started Kindergarten.
Isla started Preschool.
We got a kitten named Blu.
And now we are nearing October. And I have one more big thing, for me anyway. NO. I am not pregnant. In fact, I am happily starting to gather up the newborn/baby stuff and giving it away, something I thought would send me into despair. But no, just the opposite. One of the side effects of being in a 1400 sf. house with 5 people and a cat? Space = Happiness.
The big thing? I'm starting back to work. Next week. Just about 10 hours a week, but it's so strange . This job of being a full-time mom, this terrain I was so afraid to tread, this place that I unwillingly went, but stayed at is coming to a slow end, much like the warm summer days of 2011. I realize that the black hole of staying at home has spit me out a happier, better person.
No longer do I think that my job should get more attention that my 3 year old. No longer do I value the opinions of my superiors more than my husband. No longer do I look down upon the lifestyle I had no training for, but had completely submersed myself in. I have respect for life. I have confidence in myself. And because of those changes, we have a happier family.
3 years ago I was in a different place. Treading water. Closing my eyes and wishing it away.
Being laid off and at home forced my eyes open and allowed me to watch my kids through the most amazing, growing times in their life. I no longer tread water, some days it damn near feels like I walk on it.
Anyway, I feel good about things. And I feel best at the monumental shift that happened, just in time. Because you really never do get those things back. Work will always be there, your kids won't. Thank you Universe for allowing me to learn that lesson.
I feel like I just took the training wheels off my wisdom bike :)
Monday, September 26, 2011
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Necessary Endings
Is there anything in that title that makes you shudder? I don't know about you, but those words somehow fill me dread. It could be that I was raised by a woman who hasn't changed her furniture arrangement, used the decorative shell soap in her bathroom or burnt any candle on display since... well they moved in nearly 35 years ago. That's enough to scar someone permanently, right?
When you 'end' something, it evokes emotions like 'grieving', 'loss' and 'finality'. Personally, I always got lost in those words and never quite embraced what finality brought, which are new beginnings. I applaud those can easily move on without overly dwelling on what has come to an end. It's a trait I desperately wish I possessed.
This week has been a very difficult week for us as a family. I've been struggling with not breaking out in tears every 5 minutes. The first blow was our beloved Porter cat. He had been diagnosed diabetic a month or so ago and we've been doing our best to get it under control. We hadn't quite regulated his insulin enough to get him gaining weight again, but he was steady. And then I missed a dose... which sent him throwing up and weak and ultimately refusing to eat or drink. After a night at the vet's office on a fluid drip, things still weren't looking good. Ben said what I felt in my heart, it was time to let him go. I said an hour long goodbye to him, my first baby. He obsessively layed next to my belly while pregnant, curled up on my lap when I was sad and bit my ankles long before my children did. He was what made Ben and I a 'family' when we first started out. I could go on. And many of you know this sense of loss. It was the first time though, as an adult, the decision was mine. I was ending this poor cat's life. This wonderful cat who has been with me for 8 years. And I would have explain this to my little girls, who had loved him since they were born. Sure, it was a learning opportunity for them, but in perspective, for none more so than I.
This week also marks the transition from breast to bottle, I am weaning Finlay. I have nursed her exclusively since she was born. But when her two little bottom teeth broke through a month ago, she wanted to bite. Hard. The decision was made. It's a physical thing for me, but also emotional. I am letting go of her infancy a little bit. This is something to be rejoiced, but she is probably my last child, so it's something I will never do again. For you nursing moms out there, I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. This little special thing that only I could give her now comes from a can. A giant, expensive can sold at any retailer.
And finally Ben will be resigning from his job of 10 years. He will probably kill me for posting this, since it isn't done yet. But I'm pulling a 'crazy Stef' this week and need some slack. Being a stay at home mom is great, but you inject yourself into your husband's profession because your family is dependent on only him for insurance, income, etc. Everything rides on him. And although, I am excited about the new opportunity he will starting in a few weeks, the idea of leaving a such a good situation for an unknown sends me in a tailspin of doubt.
I think I would be doing worse had I not had a great conversation with a dear friend of mine. While at an event, I picked up a book for her called, "Necessary Endings" by Henry Cloud. She's been struggling adjusting to life with two kids while working full time an hour from her home. I was trying to assure her that life as a stay-at-home mom will be great when she decides to make the leap. That sometimes holding on to who we were, where we worked and where we lived in our 20's and early 30's was keeping us from moving on to where we really need to be. Kids can't fit into our lives as they existed, we need to fit into theirs or risk missing it all.
That's it huh? I need to move on and let go or I risk missing what could be the best part. A new pet, a new phase of life, new opportunities. It's still hard for me to let go of things that were good. It will always be. But as my wonderful husband said last night, "We're leaving a very good situation for an even better one." Translated: It's time to use the decorative soap. Peace be with you for any endings that may be weighing on your heart.
When you 'end' something, it evokes emotions like 'grieving', 'loss' and 'finality'. Personally, I always got lost in those words and never quite embraced what finality brought, which are new beginnings. I applaud those can easily move on without overly dwelling on what has come to an end. It's a trait I desperately wish I possessed.
This week has been a very difficult week for us as a family. I've been struggling with not breaking out in tears every 5 minutes. The first blow was our beloved Porter cat. He had been diagnosed diabetic a month or so ago and we've been doing our best to get it under control. We hadn't quite regulated his insulin enough to get him gaining weight again, but he was steady. And then I missed a dose... which sent him throwing up and weak and ultimately refusing to eat or drink. After a night at the vet's office on a fluid drip, things still weren't looking good. Ben said what I felt in my heart, it was time to let him go. I said an hour long goodbye to him, my first baby. He obsessively layed next to my belly while pregnant, curled up on my lap when I was sad and bit my ankles long before my children did. He was what made Ben and I a 'family' when we first started out. I could go on. And many of you know this sense of loss. It was the first time though, as an adult, the decision was mine. I was ending this poor cat's life. This wonderful cat who has been with me for 8 years. And I would have explain this to my little girls, who had loved him since they were born. Sure, it was a learning opportunity for them, but in perspective, for none more so than I.
This week also marks the transition from breast to bottle, I am weaning Finlay. I have nursed her exclusively since she was born. But when her two little bottom teeth broke through a month ago, she wanted to bite. Hard. The decision was made. It's a physical thing for me, but also emotional. I am letting go of her infancy a little bit. This is something to be rejoiced, but she is probably my last child, so it's something I will never do again. For you nursing moms out there, I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. This little special thing that only I could give her now comes from a can. A giant, expensive can sold at any retailer.
And finally Ben will be resigning from his job of 10 years. He will probably kill me for posting this, since it isn't done yet. But I'm pulling a 'crazy Stef' this week and need some slack. Being a stay at home mom is great, but you inject yourself into your husband's profession because your family is dependent on only him for insurance, income, etc. Everything rides on him. And although, I am excited about the new opportunity he will starting in a few weeks, the idea of leaving a such a good situation for an unknown sends me in a tailspin of doubt.
I think I would be doing worse had I not had a great conversation with a dear friend of mine. While at an event, I picked up a book for her called, "Necessary Endings" by Henry Cloud. She's been struggling adjusting to life with two kids while working full time an hour from her home. I was trying to assure her that life as a stay-at-home mom will be great when she decides to make the leap. That sometimes holding on to who we were, where we worked and where we lived in our 20's and early 30's was keeping us from moving on to where we really need to be. Kids can't fit into our lives as they existed, we need to fit into theirs or risk missing it all.
That's it huh? I need to move on and let go or I risk missing what could be the best part. A new pet, a new phase of life, new opportunities. It's still hard for me to let go of things that were good. It will always be. But as my wonderful husband said last night, "We're leaving a very good situation for an even better one." Translated: It's time to use the decorative soap. Peace be with you for any endings that may be weighing on your heart.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Mommy's Law
What is it about Murphy's law, 'Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong'? When you are a mom, you discover this is the truth. Your whole life becomes some anecdote to pass along to those thinking of having children, to prepare those young folk who are newly pregnant or to share among your mommy friends. Below is an example of how Mommy's law has played out for me... just in the last week.... most of it being yesterday.
- Your 2-year old will accidentally pee on the bathroom rugs, the same rugs you just finished cleaning from her peeing on them two days ago.
- Your mother-in-law will prepare your children for the demise of a sick cat by telling them 'the kitty will get a shot to go to sleep... forever'. When in reality she should have checked with you first because the cat just has diabetes and you have to give him a SHOT of insulin twice a day for the rest of his life. Now they want to watch me 'put the kitty to sleep' every time I get out the insulin.
- Not diversifying the baby's veggie diet from squash, carrots and sweet potatoes will result in her turning orange. It isn't a myth. (Note to self: Next week include some green veggies, Fin looks like an oompa-loompa)
- After cleaning up squash from a messy baby's face you will be out in public and have a complete stranger say, "Ewww, looks like someone has a bad ear infection", only to realize that they were talking about the large amount of now-dried squash you missed splattered your baby's ear and neck. How could I have missed that?!
- The one time you are on schedule to get the kids to school on time AND get to yoga class before it starts, you start your period for the first time in 18 months.
- The first time you start your period in 18 months and the toilet mysteriously overflows.
- The first time you ever saw the toilet overflow, clean it up and think "Could've been worse", you go downstairs to discover the water actually leaked through the floor, ceiling and all over your kitchen counter and stack of important paperwork you had to go through.
- You are once again late (REALLY LATE) dropping off child to school and making it to yoga class.
- The one night you can go shopping by yourself and your husband lets your children watch an episode of 'Nature' on venomous creatures right before bed.
- The one night you REALLY want to get to bed early your children will keep coming downstairs because they are afraid snakes and other venomous creatures are in their bedroom.
- You can vacuum twice a day, every day and a new crawler will see the one piece of sock toe jam you missed and put it in her mouth before you can get it from her.
- It's gross enough to make your two year old child spit out what they are chewing on (assuming it's a piece of a puzzle), only for her to tell you it's a booger.
- When you are at the end of your rope, a child they will do something so genuinely sweet, like take your angry face in both hands, kiss both cheeks and say, "I love you Mama". And then reduce you to tears.
Time for me to take a deep breath, laugh it off and prepare for what the next week of Mommy's Law will bring. For now I need to go throw some pee-soaked rugs in the wash.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Gettin' Fixed
This last week marked an anniversary of sorts, the anniversary of getting canned. Or the 'great dawn of the new age' from which this whole wisdom in training thing has sprung. It seems like I have been getting asked a lot lately what I do. It's strange because I find it increasingly difficult to answer. My 'previous' life, as I like to call it, the one where I worked as a designer, keeps getting more distant and foreign. It would seem an obvious thing that as time floats on your experiences would get cloudy, but it's different than that. It's much more like a hyper-humping dog that's been neutered and now sits contently in a trance state and the owner doesn't quite know if the dog is happy or contemplating suicide now his manhood has been surgically removed. And there's that mixture of relief and sadness that people passing by have for that now non-humping dog that his youthful vibrancy is gone but their legs and small children remain safe. Yeah, it's kind of like that.
Too much of an analogy?
You would think that two years would have solved some of these identity issues that have been written about since this blog has started. And it has. The issue is that I realize now its much deeper than I anticipated. I anticipated that I would have a third child stay at home for a few years til the economy got better and then go back to work and try my best to fit back in to that old lifestyle. Buuuut... I don't know now. It's like now that craziness of trying to be super-woman was surgically removed, I kind of like staying at home on the porch and watching the world go by. I just hate the sad eyes of everyone who passes me by, thinking I'm just a shadow of my former self.
That was totally deep huh?
I think we all see ourselves in a role. And mine was to follow in the footsteps that were laid before me. My mother gave birth to me and almost immediately went back to work. She had 'activities' every night of the week, she was a volunteer paramedic, active in the church choir, visited old people, on every committee which requested her, and attended almost all my school activities. A pillar of the community. They were able to pay for my college and retire and continue to live comfortably. She lived the dream.
But she was tired, grumpy. She resented my father at every turn. There was never a family dinner together, no vacations, no chats about how our lives were going. Things were at the very least extremely tense when I was a teenager because I didn't trust her, there was no connection. And to be honest, I never thought it could have been any different, until now.
I was on that same path, I think. My mother was a very good role model for me in what to do for my community, her attitude in that respect is still something I admire. But when I found myself so exhausted and overwhelmed, I started to remember how it made me feel as a kid. As proud as I was at her accomplishments, I still never really had that sense of family. The question is, which is more important to the development of our kids?
Being at home has taken the craziness out of my life. When that was removed, I saw the gaping holes I was leaving for my girls and their sense of home and value. The last two years have been about repairing those holes in my life and hopefully change the course of how my family is raised. I will always be eternally grateful that this anniversary of getting fixed/axed. It's just, where do I go from here?
(If any of you say 'get pregnant again' I'll leave you a flaming turd bag on your front porch.)
Too much of an analogy?
You would think that two years would have solved some of these identity issues that have been written about since this blog has started. And it has. The issue is that I realize now its much deeper than I anticipated. I anticipated that I would have a third child stay at home for a few years til the economy got better and then go back to work and try my best to fit back in to that old lifestyle. Buuuut... I don't know now. It's like now that craziness of trying to be super-woman was surgically removed, I kind of like staying at home on the porch and watching the world go by. I just hate the sad eyes of everyone who passes me by, thinking I'm just a shadow of my former self.
That was totally deep huh?
I think we all see ourselves in a role. And mine was to follow in the footsteps that were laid before me. My mother gave birth to me and almost immediately went back to work. She had 'activities' every night of the week, she was a volunteer paramedic, active in the church choir, visited old people, on every committee which requested her, and attended almost all my school activities. A pillar of the community. They were able to pay for my college and retire and continue to live comfortably. She lived the dream.
But she was tired, grumpy. She resented my father at every turn. There was never a family dinner together, no vacations, no chats about how our lives were going. Things were at the very least extremely tense when I was a teenager because I didn't trust her, there was no connection. And to be honest, I never thought it could have been any different, until now.
I was on that same path, I think. My mother was a very good role model for me in what to do for my community, her attitude in that respect is still something I admire. But when I found myself so exhausted and overwhelmed, I started to remember how it made me feel as a kid. As proud as I was at her accomplishments, I still never really had that sense of family. The question is, which is more important to the development of our kids?
Being at home has taken the craziness out of my life. When that was removed, I saw the gaping holes I was leaving for my girls and their sense of home and value. The last two years have been about repairing those holes in my life and hopefully change the course of how my family is raised. I will always be eternally grateful that this anniversary of getting fixed/axed. It's just, where do I go from here?
(If any of you say 'get pregnant again' I'll leave you a flaming turd bag on your front porch.)
Monday, February 14, 2011
The Valentine That Almost Wasn't
Tonight I'm cooking meatloaf with a special sauce. I gave all three kids a bath including hair brushing, teeth brushing and the removal of ear wax (which simultaneously amazes and grosses me out). I neatly folded about two hundred white undershirts. tighty-whiteys and gym socks.
Typical daily chores? Yes and no. These are my 'gifts of love' to my husband. He's a lucky man don't you think? I do, especially since I should have dumped him after our first Valentine's Day together 16 years ago.
It was 1995, our senior year, right at the end of an extremely successful boy's basketball season. I was a cheerleader and Ben was the star player of our state-ranked high school team. After years of being best friends, we had just crossed the threshold into 'more' with a first kiss just two weeks previous.
It was tricky because I really liked him 'in that way', but didn't want to scare him off with some psycho Valentine's display. I got him tape of Trisha Yearwood's single "I've Been Thinking About You", along with school sponsored pink and white carnations (meaning like and friendship) and a giant cookie baked by the home-ec class for a fundraiser. After receiving the flowers and cookies at school (he did the same for me except a RED carnation which meant 'love'!) he picked me up for the basketball game leaving my car at home. He would HAVE to take me home that night after the game, just as he had been doing for well over a month. I would then give him the tape. It was setting up to be the perfect first Valentine's.
The boy's team had a win that Tuesday night at home. It was a wonderful night and I was so excited to see Ben. There was pizza for the cheerleaders afterwards sponsored by a local pervert, I mean sponsor. After eating a few pieces I went to the restroom to freshen up my hair and make-up hoping to have the star of the basketball team mess it up soon after. I can say that now, we're married.
When I emerged in a cloud of hairspray, some of the basketball players (waiting on their own girlfriends) were polishing off the cheerleaders' pizza, but Ben was not with them. I figured he was down in the gym waiting. But when I got there, the only souls there were the janitors cleaning up after the sold-out crowd. I asked, but no one had seen Ben. Blah, blah, blah, fast forward about 15 minutes and I did the unthinkable, I called his house from the weight room phone. It's unthinkable because no amount of perfumed hairspray can beat the stench of a high school weight room.
When his Mom answered, in almost a chipper voice, she told me Ben had been at home for about 10 minutes (she wasn't a big fan of me). When he got on the line he said he thought I had gotten a ride and he was tired. 'Good night, see ya tomorrow.' Click. He didn't even offer to come back and get me... in fact, he didn't even wait for me to respond at all. WHAT?!?!
Thank goodness my favorite teacher who lived down the road from my house, was just leaving and gave me a lift. I loved that guy. 'Hot Rod', as we called him, let me bawl my eyes out about my botched Valentine's Day as his extremely patient 5 year old whispered from the backseat... "Daddy, can we go home now?"
Typical daily chores? Yes and no. These are my 'gifts of love' to my husband. He's a lucky man don't you think? I do, especially since I should have dumped him after our first Valentine's Day together 16 years ago.
It was 1995, our senior year, right at the end of an extremely successful boy's basketball season. I was a cheerleader and Ben was the star player of our state-ranked high school team. After years of being best friends, we had just crossed the threshold into 'more' with a first kiss just two weeks previous.
It was tricky because I really liked him 'in that way', but didn't want to scare him off with some psycho Valentine's display. I got him tape of Trisha Yearwood's single "I've Been Thinking About You", along with school sponsored pink and white carnations (meaning like and friendship) and a giant cookie baked by the home-ec class for a fundraiser. After receiving the flowers and cookies at school (he did the same for me except a RED carnation which meant 'love'!) he picked me up for the basketball game leaving my car at home. He would HAVE to take me home that night after the game, just as he had been doing for well over a month. I would then give him the tape. It was setting up to be the perfect first Valentine's.
The boy's team had a win that Tuesday night at home. It was a wonderful night and I was so excited to see Ben. There was pizza for the cheerleaders afterwards sponsored by a local pervert, I mean sponsor. After eating a few pieces I went to the restroom to freshen up my hair and make-up hoping to have the star of the basketball team mess it up soon after. I can say that now, we're married.
When I emerged in a cloud of hairspray, some of the basketball players (waiting on their own girlfriends) were polishing off the cheerleaders' pizza, but Ben was not with them. I figured he was down in the gym waiting. But when I got there, the only souls there were the janitors cleaning up after the sold-out crowd. I asked, but no one had seen Ben. Blah, blah, blah, fast forward about 15 minutes and I did the unthinkable, I called his house from the weight room phone. It's unthinkable because no amount of perfumed hairspray can beat the stench of a high school weight room.
When his Mom answered, in almost a chipper voice, she told me Ben had been at home for about 10 minutes (she wasn't a big fan of me). When he got on the line he said he thought I had gotten a ride and he was tired. 'Good night, see ya tomorrow.' Click. He didn't even offer to come back and get me... in fact, he didn't even wait for me to respond at all. WHAT?!?!
Thank goodness my favorite teacher who lived down the road from my house, was just leaving and gave me a lift. I loved that guy. 'Hot Rod', as we called him, let me bawl my eyes out about my botched Valentine's Day as his extremely patient 5 year old whispered from the backseat... "Daddy, can we go home now?"
I sent the tape with a friend to drop off at Ben's house, thinking it would make him feel bad. He was a teenage boy though, which meant he had no clue. He didn't call that night. He made no apologies the next day. In fact, 16 years later he still smirks and rolls his eyes about it.
I guess he knew something I didn't at that point. If he had gotten all sweet on me that first Valentine's Day, he would have set a precedent for which he would have to live up to and top every February 14th. Bravo Honey, way to set the bar low. Here's to many more years of understating our love.
Happy Valentine's Day all :)
Friday, February 4, 2011
Addiction and Mourning
It's winter.
I could end there. All things that used to be fun! and cozy! and magical! about winter are now stir crazy! and get me out! and my goodness child will you please just stay in your bed for once before I jump out a window!
It's winter.
And we're trapped with frigid temps, slick ice and various sicknesses.
I might just go drink myself to spring but then I would miss my baby. My precious 5 month old who in the midst of teething can manage to melt every icicle off the roof with her giggle.
For anyone that's had one baby you know how it changes you. It brings all sorts of new emotions to your life you never anticipated. Amongst those is anxiety and and uptight attitude until you eventually realize you fit into their life, they don't fit into yours. They will break you before rebuilding you, believe me.
For anyone that's had a second baby you discover the that although the work has increased, it's somehow better, because you know you'll get through it and you seem to enjoy this newborn thing much more than before. Anxiety starts to melt away.
For anyone who's had a third. You might just be addicted to the child that had most recently come into your family. At least this has been my experience. This little one has me wanting to wake up in the morning just to see her smile. I love watching her look up to her sisters and try to imitate them (most recently she learned to jump, it's their favorite 'sister' thing to do together). She has me ogling babies everywhere, it's not who I used to be. And to be honest, it's taken me by surprise. I, dear readers, am a certified baby addict.
Which is why this afternoon I'm mourning.
I had a rough time after delivering Finlay. Many things happened and it's been the opinion of many doctors that although I could have another child, I shouldn't. Be there for the ones you have. That's what I've been told. That's scary when someone says that to you. And although I really would have liked to feed my new found baby addiction, it's time I quit.
Today I solidified that with a long-term contraceptive. I wasn't ready to admit we're done, so there was no permanent solution, but this was a step towards that. To admit, I'm sad. I had always pictured us with four children. I pictured Finlay staring wide eyed at the new little bundle we brought home from the hospital, a playmate for her while the older two were at school. And much much more than that.
But it's done. And it's really hard for me to come to terms with. Now this phase is over I'm not sure what to do.
I suppose we've faced new phases in our lives before and rolled with it. I just wish it would've ended on my terms.
On a bright note, my little angel is up from her nap. Time to melt my insides with her grin.
I could end there. All things that used to be fun! and cozy! and magical! about winter are now stir crazy! and get me out! and my goodness child will you please just stay in your bed for once before I jump out a window!
It's winter.
And we're trapped with frigid temps, slick ice and various sicknesses.
I might just go drink myself to spring but then I would miss my baby. My precious 5 month old who in the midst of teething can manage to melt every icicle off the roof with her giggle.
For anyone that's had one baby you know how it changes you. It brings all sorts of new emotions to your life you never anticipated. Amongst those is anxiety and and uptight attitude until you eventually realize you fit into their life, they don't fit into yours. They will break you before rebuilding you, believe me.
For anyone that's had a second baby you discover the that although the work has increased, it's somehow better, because you know you'll get through it and you seem to enjoy this newborn thing much more than before. Anxiety starts to melt away.
For anyone who's had a third. You might just be addicted to the child that had most recently come into your family. At least this has been my experience. This little one has me wanting to wake up in the morning just to see her smile. I love watching her look up to her sisters and try to imitate them (most recently she learned to jump, it's their favorite 'sister' thing to do together). She has me ogling babies everywhere, it's not who I used to be. And to be honest, it's taken me by surprise. I, dear readers, am a certified baby addict.
Which is why this afternoon I'm mourning.
I had a rough time after delivering Finlay. Many things happened and it's been the opinion of many doctors that although I could have another child, I shouldn't. Be there for the ones you have. That's what I've been told. That's scary when someone says that to you. And although I really would have liked to feed my new found baby addiction, it's time I quit.
Today I solidified that with a long-term contraceptive. I wasn't ready to admit we're done, so there was no permanent solution, but this was a step towards that. To admit, I'm sad. I had always pictured us with four children. I pictured Finlay staring wide eyed at the new little bundle we brought home from the hospital, a playmate for her while the older two were at school. And much much more than that.
But it's done. And it's really hard for me to come to terms with. Now this phase is over I'm not sure what to do.
I suppose we've faced new phases in our lives before and rolled with it. I just wish it would've ended on my terms.
On a bright note, my little angel is up from her nap. Time to melt my insides with her grin.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
A Funny Thing Happened on the way to 2011...
As many of you know (and know well), I like to tell stories. In fact, that's the biggest part I miss about being out in the world, is telling stories. Stories about my kids, my husband and especially my Mom. Boy did she produce some classics, who can forget the story about Ferd and Turd?
So this year I will try to post more and slightly shorter musings from the world of Gamble. I don't know if the stories will translate as well in writing, but they did produce a chuckle for myself at the time they occurred. Here are a few leading up to the New Year...
The other day as the girls and I were driving home from somewhere Hazelle spotted an airplane flying overhead. Not one plane makes it through our airspace without one of my children shouting 'Pain!'. Did I mention they don't say their 'L's all the time? It's cute, but I digress. Hazelle said, "Mommy, we've never been on an airplane before, could you buy us a ticket so we can ride on an airplane?" It was a thoughtful, charming and reasonable question to which I replied, "Honey, one day. Airplane tickets are expensive and we have a big family, we have to save up to buy tickets. But one day Daddy and I will take you girls on an airplane." Without skipping a beat she replied, "(exasperated sigh followed by a snarky sounding) But Mommy, I wasn't asking you to BUY the plane!" Point for the 5 year old. Well played.
After cabin fever reached its limit my husband took the older girls out for a 'walk in the nature'. It's their favorite father/daughters thing to do while Mommy gets a mental vacation at home. It was an unusually beautiful day and he took them out on a trail at a local park. As usual, they came home filthy and happy, but none more filthy than Isla. As my husband explained, "Well, out of a mile of trail there was but ONE mud puddle. I turned just in time to see Isla fall belly-first in it, completely getting herself soaked. Then your other daughter managed to step in dog crap. Congratulations Stef, you produced two children EXACTLY like you." If I didn't think I was that clumsy or hadn't stepped in more than my share of dog crap I would have protested. So, point for husband. Well played, and well put.
Happy New Year to my fellow clumsy, dog-crap stepping friends! May this year be more stable and less crappy.
So this year I will try to post more and slightly shorter musings from the world of Gamble. I don't know if the stories will translate as well in writing, but they did produce a chuckle for myself at the time they occurred. Here are a few leading up to the New Year...
The other day as the girls and I were driving home from somewhere Hazelle spotted an airplane flying overhead. Not one plane makes it through our airspace without one of my children shouting 'Pain!'. Did I mention they don't say their 'L's all the time? It's cute, but I digress. Hazelle said, "Mommy, we've never been on an airplane before, could you buy us a ticket so we can ride on an airplane?" It was a thoughtful, charming and reasonable question to which I replied, "Honey, one day. Airplane tickets are expensive and we have a big family, we have to save up to buy tickets. But one day Daddy and I will take you girls on an airplane." Without skipping a beat she replied, "(exasperated sigh followed by a snarky sounding) But Mommy, I wasn't asking you to BUY the plane!" Point for the 5 year old. Well played.
........................................................................................
After cabin fever reached its limit my husband took the older girls out for a 'walk in the nature'. It's their favorite father/daughters thing to do while Mommy gets a mental vacation at home. It was an unusually beautiful day and he took them out on a trail at a local park. As usual, they came home filthy and happy, but none more filthy than Isla. As my husband explained, "Well, out of a mile of trail there was but ONE mud puddle. I turned just in time to see Isla fall belly-first in it, completely getting herself soaked. Then your other daughter managed to step in dog crap. Congratulations Stef, you produced two children EXACTLY like you." If I didn't think I was that clumsy or hadn't stepped in more than my share of dog crap I would have protested. So, point for husband. Well played, and well put.
Happy New Year to my fellow clumsy, dog-crap stepping friends! May this year be more stable and less crappy.
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