Kisses,From Mommy

I am weak. I am still home for another 6 1/2 hours and I already miss them.

This and That

Isn't this bowl beautiful? Mr. Mouse just made it and it is his first one. I can't believe how perfect it is. You can't tell in the picture, but each side is symmetrical and the thickness is even throughout. Yeah for the kiln!

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Conundrum of the Day

Middle: "Mom, can I have some ticks, please."

Me: "What do you want?"

Middle: "Ticks."

Me: "?"

Middle: (seeing my utter confusion)"TICKS! Ticks, MOM!"

Me: "What are ticks for?"

Middle: "You know! What you use to clean ears with, ticks."

Me: "Q tips? Do you want Q tips?"

Middle: "Yeah! (like that is what she had been saying all along.) I need them to clean my bears real good."

How cute is that! She wanted to get each and every crevice of her bear figurine clean, (I really hope this continues for years) so she wanted Q tips to get all the teeny places done! I LOVE this kid!

My Dog Lovers

My sister has a dog named Zeus and as you can see the two little ones love him. They love any dog/animal really, but he was extra sweet to them and let them pat and pull him. I think because my sister has two older boys, he sort of liked having two small pinkish people close to his size around. I really don't want to post about this. I really want to write about how stressed, nervous and anxious I am, but I can't. Something is happening in less then three days, and I'm not ready. I'm not physically or emotionally ready. Tomorrow I will be physically ready, but I doubt if I ever will be emotionally ready. It wouldn't be so bad, except the 'thing' I'm worried about has no firm finish and I don't like that. I like to plan. I like lists. I like knowing what is about to happen and I like the satisfaction of having a plan come to a successful completion. I guess that is the definition of a Type A personality, except I have none of the good attributes of Type As. I love organization, yet my house is anything but. I like throwing things away. I do. I get happy when I can throw something in the trash can, yet I have clutter. I like to think it is all the kids toys and the millions of books my husband 'needs' and keeps, but some of the chaos is mine. I wish I had just a touch of OCD. Just enough to know that everything is in its place, but not to the point that I'm combing the tassels on rugs, ya know?

The Knot

I was in our hammock swing, looking up. The kids were running around me, playing in the plastic outdoor house. I kept looking up at the knot that fastened the swing to the tree. I looked beyond the knot into the many branches growing out of the tree's trunk. The hammock slowly turned in circles, going to the right, then slowly back to the left. Every once in a while clouds would move and the sun would be blinding. It all was very simple and comforting. I could have slept if not for the kids shrieks and questions. I couldn't decide if I was the knot, holding the family up off the ground. Am I the branches, giving space for them all to rest on? Maybe I am the trunk, supporting it all and bearing the entire burden. Or, the sun. Warm and bright, but hidden sometimes by the clouds.

Going To A Ladies Party

My cousin invited me to her house tonight for a home party. When she emailed last she also said the girls could come. Well, they love her, and really love her house. She has all the little toys from when she grew up, plus she collects stuffed alligators, but the bestest part of going to her house is her four cats. They hide in all kinds of neat places, and the girls think it is a game. Who can find the most cats quickest. Or, who can find the grey cat, etc. They had fun and were pretty quiet for the most part. They had a loud wrestling match in the backyard before the woman started her presentation, and I guess they got most of the craziness out then. A highlight of the night was when the lady giving the party asked Middle when she was going to be five. Her answer? "After four." Everyone cracked up at that one.
The baby could sense we were going to be leaving, and she must have known she was going to be staying home with daddy, and she wasn't very happy about it. She was in my room as I was getting dressed and I turned to her and said, "Do you like mommy's outfit?" She said "NO!" "Do you like Miss's outfit?" "Nooooo." "Do you like Middle's outfit?" "NOOOOO!!" I was laughing, anything I asked her, the answer was no. She was just not happy. Eric snapped a picture of us before we left. So, was the baby right?

Introduction

Imagine, if you will, a National Geographic narrator reciting the following script.
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After many attempts at her yard work, the leader female of the clan has an idea. She notices the sunny day ahead and drags the plastic pool from the deep abyss of her back yard. The youngest clan member seems to be having trouble staying out of trouble, this day, and extreme measures need to be taken. The senior female enlists the help of her middle offspring, encouraging her to show the baby how to fill a pool. The process is simply mesmerizing to both youngsters. Notice how the baby stops eating dirt and sidewalk chalk to witness the amazing wonder of water falling out of a long hose.




Next, they all go inside and feast on peanut butter and jelly. After a brief rest period, the eldest offspring arrives home to help introduce her youngest sibling to the now warm inch of water. The small child is a bit apprehensive, not quite sure what is expected of her.

After a time period of about three minutes, the oldest child simply lifts the baby into the pool. All stand and wait for the reaction. Will she laugh? Will she scream in terror? Let us watch...

All is well! So well, the oldest females have all but abandoned the wee one to go off on their own. The mother has successfully raked a large portion of her territory. The baby stands alone! Alone and happy!

All is well on this part of the mountain.

Tiny Dancer

With attitude.

Recital is only a few weeks away now, and we only have one of her two costumes. The one we do have is pretty crappy. I am by no means a seamstress or knowledgeable about clothes design, but even I can see the stitchery is lousy. On top of that, the straps aren't fastened and the mock duck tail still needs to be attached- by us parents. They said to use double sided Velcro, but what did I pay fifty dollars for? Oh well, too late now. She is pretty much over dance now anyway. Too many people dare touch her. They breathe her air for crying out loud! She wants to do karate now. I told her she needs to finish dance first then the ever popular mom answer of "We'll see." As long as it isn't crazy expensive I will probably let her. I actually think it might be a good idea.

P.S. In the backround here you can see some of the debris of Mr.'s chainsaw work. Yep, still waiting for it to be dragged off. I will probably do it tomorrow or this weekend. I need a teenage boy around, just to help me with yard work, then he can leave!

My Cage

Some people call them trampolines, but I like to think of it as a legal kid cage. Once they get in there, they stay! They jump rope, bounce balls, bounce each other and actually play nicely together.




The baby loves it too. They set her in the middle, start jumping and there is no telling where she will end up. She gets mad when they stop jumping.

"Please, can we sleep here tonight Mom!"

I'm considering it.

Rake, Drag, Repeat

Have you been wondering what I've been doing? Let me paint a picture for you. I have been outside with the kids, either two or three, depending on the time of day, and I have been trying to rid my yard of the debris of last fall. Raking, raking, raking. Heave onto a tarp. Drag, drag, draaaag far enough away to prevent from blowing back. After a couple of hours Friday, five solid hours Saturday a bit on Sunday and only an hour today, you can barely see a dent. This is the definition of frustration. I just want to see an end to it!! I'm nervous that it will rain and therefore prevent me from finishing. I'm nervous that the blackflies are going to wake up and eat my flesh off before I can finish. Lastly, I'm nervous that the grass will start growing more and make the leaves and twigs that much more tangled together.






Does anyone know what these two plants are? They're growing fast and strong, but I don't remember planting anything where they are growing.







Somebody likes swinging! I was in part able to rake so much because the girls enjoyed pushing the baby so much, and the baby loved it.

I have to load her down with sunscreen on her head because her hair isn't thick enough to protect her scalp form the sun. The girls like her crazy spikes!

Helping Hand(s)

Dam!

We found this beaver-bit tree on a nature hike. We also found deer poop, deer poop with tiny little bugs living on it, fox poop and of course, bird droppings. Lucky for you, I only took pictures of the beavers' hard work.




As you can see, they still have a ways to go.

Yes, I Still Have Snow

On the way to a creek on the back of our property, there are some really gigantic trees. The kids love them, and have a 'pet' tree that is huge and not far from the house. Last year they would go there and hide little treasures, then go back to see if any critters took them. Last night they were on the way to the creek and Mr. took the camera.

Why yes, that is snow still covering most of the ground. I spent hours yesterday, (with many interruptions of getting drinks, changing diapers and pulling a certain seventeen month old out of deep mucky puddles) raking. There was no raking done in the fall, so now I am blessed with the task of raking old, stinky, wet leaves from the lawn. A leaf blower just wouldn't get them all since they are so wet. I ended up doing it barefoot since where there is no snow, the ground is so wet my shoes got flooded instantly. See how much fun I have everyday? Want to come over and play my games with me?

Skillz

My nephew has a contraption called a "Rip Stick". Never heard of it. Is it because I have girls, or is it because it is brand spanking new? Who knows. All I can say is, I was frightened.




It appears to be a skateboard, yet it only has one wheel in front and one in the back. You sort of have to pivot back and forth to make it move and it is very, umm, wobbly. Of course, he has mastered it and look how cool he is with his cap all topsy turvy. (On purpose, of course.)

We Are American Girls

The main reason for our trip to the city was our lunch reservation at the American Girl Cafe. The two oldest received American Girl dolls for Christmas this year, and couldn't wait to go to the actual store and dine in the restaurant. I really didn't know what type of food to expect, but since this is a place for younger girls, I was imagining 'kiddie' food. Oh, how I was mistaken. As soon as our host brought us into the room, we all gasped. What a perfect girlie restaurant! My sister and I exchanged surprised glances and ended up being just as in awe as the little girls surrounding us. The decor itself is perfect. Pink, white and black, tastefully simple, but elegant.





The waitstaff brings out little highchairs for each doll, along with a table setting. Warm cinnamon rolls awaited us and our drinks came right out, Bellini's for my sister and I, endless refills of pink lemonade for the girls.

After the buns were gone, our waitress brought out a pedestal platter of cheese, grapes, vegetables and dips. At that point we were already getting full, but the main course was arriving. My sister got a beautiful salad, French Dip for me, and chicken tenders partnered with mac-n-cheese and some fruit cut into cute shapes for Miss.

Middle opted for mini burgers that came with French fries and a fruit cup. Note the cute American Flag toothpicks in her burgers. While we ate, the lighting was constantly but subtly changing. The only negative was there were only three bathroom stalls in a huge place that was 98% female. They could have tripled that number and been fine.

Last, but best, was dessert. Out came fancy plates with a divine chocolate mousse, an iced sugar cookie and a heart cake. So perfect. My sister and I were pleasantly surprised on how delicious and upscale the experience was. We can't wait to return with my mother and a cousin of ours who is nine years old and an owner of many American Girl items.

Now, remember those cute toothpicks? Yeah, well Middle felt so comfortable and at home, she sat back, and started using them to pick the food out of her teeth! You can take the girl out of the mountains, but you can't take the mountains out of the girl!!

If you ever get the opportunity to go to the American Girl store, don't hesitate. Even if you don't own the dolls, or a daughter, you will be amazed. The location in NY is three stories, and immaculate. We happily wandered around and up and around again. The staff is super friendly and eager to help. The cafe is terrific, as you can see, and the food is fantastic.

NYC = Yummy Food

As you can see,




we lingered by the bakery. Zaro's in Grand Central.

I'm not kidding when I say these past three days have erased all of my hard work of dieting the past six weeks. The jeans are tight again and I am bummed.

Wait to you see the sophisticated luncheon we attended! (Yes, I took pictures of the food.)

YEE-HAW!! Little Mice In The Big City

Guess where we were!...The Big Apple baby! And no trip there is complete without a black market pocket book and The Naked Cowboy!




I have lots to share, but we just got home an hour ago, and the only way to describe the condition of the house is... eww! I don't know what Mr. Mouse did (but I know what he didn't do) while we were gone, but there is lots to keep me busy for a while. I will post more pics and stories later tonight. I missed you!

Preparation

This is what my dining room table has looked like for the past 24 hours. I need to see each and every outfit, matching accessories, even socks together before they can go in the suitcase. I have to wait until everyones outfits are picked out, make sure I have warmish weather and coolish weather, then put it in the suitcase. The only available spot in the house to do this is the dining room table. The kids love it! Since there is no room to sit and eat, they just have to sit at the kids table. And, might as well bring it into the living room to eat in front of the TV. What joy! They seldom get to do that, usually on Saturday nights, if ever, so seeing the table clogged with clothes just makes their day.

By the way, we are on our way in the morning to my parents house. The girls have been so excited to go, and they seem to have that 'just won the lottery' attitude this week. I'm happy to see them so excited and I hope it all goes well. Of course, you will hear and see all about it soon. Don't fret if it's a couple of days before I post again. I should be back on Wednesday with all the gory details!

**Edit** Angry husband** I revealed too many destinations** I am now more vague as to where we will be.**Sorry for lack of info, but when it comes to the kids, we can't take too many chances.**

Mini Mommy

Here she is, preparing nothing but the best in plastic culinary.

Middle is such a mini mom. I think I have mentioned before how she tidies up with no prompting, and likes to make her own lunch etc. Well, now I am noticing how she is really keeping Baby in line nowadays. "Mom, Baby is climbing on the back of the couch again!" or "No, no Baby, stop doing that or you will get hurt." She is such a mom. I am not complaining, although it's pretty bad when your four year old wakes in the morning and her first words are, "So mom, what are we cleaning today? How about I dust and you do laundry?"

Please, No More

This has been an awful week for my town/school district. I am just now arriving home from a day of school pick ups and GS meetings. The more people I came in contact with, the more details I learned.

A boy, sixteen years old, killed himself. Apparently he had an argument with his parents, went upstairs, and shot himself.

A girl, in sixth grade, was on a field trip with her class to New York City. Her mother, one of the chaperones, fell ill, rested in the afternoon, joined the group for dinner, went to bed and never woke up. I was told she was younger then me. She died and now her daughter might be an orphan because the father is not in the picture.

Today, someone thought it would be a good idea to call in a bomb threat to the middle school. As if things weren't topsy turvey enough in our little town, the entire student body of the middle school had to be relocated until their building was secure.

Miss had a half day, so as we were leaving the school we passed the funeral home, and it was just letting out from the boys' service. There were teenagers in black all through town, walking to the deli, or the local Stewarts and back to the funeral home. Ironically it was a beautiful spring day here, and the morose feelings just didn't fit.

I hugged and kissed on my kids all day. I prayed for them to always have health and happiness. I prayed for patience. I prayed for the sixteen year old boys' parents. I prayed for the teachers to help our kids. I prayed for understanding.

Oops!

Believe it or not, I came in, started the washer up, and now you would never know it used to look like this. Yay Tide!

Discovering

Thank you, everyone for lightening my heart last night. You are all right, but you know how guilt is. It weighs heaviest on us moms, I think.

Anyway, I love this picture. She is just discovering the earth! Last year before the ground was covered in snow, she wasn't yet walking. Then the loooooong winter came and we have been trapped indoors. Well, now she is exploring everyday and learning more and more. She stayed in this puddle for a good 10 minutes, splashing and grabbing at the wet sand.

Regret

After bringing Miss to school this morning, we three came home to commence the usual Monday routine. That routine consists mainly of me cleaning and doing laundry and general housework. I was particularly busy this morning because, due to my lack of productivity this weekend, the house was in even more of a chaotic state. Why didn't I come home after my marathon shopping trip on Saturday and vacuum? Why did I sit at the dining room table yesterday and read three days worth of newspapers after church instead of changing my sheets and getting a jump start on the upcoming week? Why do I repeatedly wimp out on days when the kids are occupied with 'Lord Daddy', the days when I could accomplish a mountain of tasks, but instead veg out and wander from room to room wearing virtual blinders? No, instead of using my time wisely, I end up spending Mondays doing four or five days worth of chores. Now today, this very Monday, happens to be a sunny, blue sky kind of day. A day that I wanted to get outside with the kids and breath in some fresh almost-springtime air. So, we get home from taking Miss to school and I start attacking my jobs. The baby, being every bit of her 17 months, is being, well, a baby. She is throwing non-garbage items in the garbage can. She is climbing up to the desk to topple the computer. She is upturning the dogs water dish. She is creating a lot more work and extra steps for me, while I am trying to be as quick as I possibly can so we can get out in that sunshine. After countless backtracking, I am beaten down. While I am vacuuming my room, in wanders Baby and she promptly grabs my Christmas cactus, the one that is a clipping from my great-grandmothers Christmas cactus. I have had it with her games now. Remember, she is just acting like the one year old she is, but I firmly hold her upper arm make her look in my eyes and I say "NO!!!" She fully grasps my discontent. She looks down. She stands still for a moment. The roar of the vacuum is in our ears. She reaches for her fallen blanket, and looks up at me. I see her little baby heart break in a trillion pieces, subsequently breaking my fully adult sized heart in big chunks which then get lodged in my throat. I turn off the vacuum and make myself look at my sweet girl who just wanted mommy to stop all that work nonsense and play. I look at her sad face and take a picture with my ever ready camera.

Shame on me, for procrastinating. Shame on me, for my lack of patience. Shame on me for not stopping to play with my kids for just ten minutes. Ten minutes is all it would have taken. Ten minutes of reading or block building, enough time to redirect her and allow me to finish my self created mess. And, shame on me for not taking care of my house, my family, when I had the opportunity yesterday. And the yesterday before that. Now, my little one knows my voice in anger. Knows my impatience. Knows how it feels to have the person you love the most break your heart.

They are both napping right now. All the fresh air we had this morning seemed to increase appetites and sleepiness. I am very much awake though. And being careful not to step on any of those little broken pieces laying on my bedroom floor as I try to put them back together...

Perspective

This is what the baby sees,



This is what the horse sees,

This is what the mom sees,

This is what happens when everyone is watching everything else but the baby. A quick escape attempt!

Cooperation

Alternate titles:

• Sharing
• Working Together
• Bonding
• Peaceful Playing
• "They Were Quiet Long Enough For Me To Fold Laundry"

I can really see how Baby is maturing. She plays with her sisters, instead of needing them to entertain her. She is starting to communicate her opinions through words. For example, the other day she was pointing up at a shelf in her room whining. I touched one of the stuffed animals and asked her, "Do you want this?" and she shook her head no. She moved her pointing finger slightly, and I then knew what she wanted. When I handed it to her she hugged it and smiled then said "Dak you". Which means 'thank you'. Awwww!

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Novella,

Howdid you know I needed this?! I could have used it about eight years ago, actually.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Grammar Police

After the last couple of days of school, Middle would get in the car and start telling me how one of the boys doesn't speak correctly. She spoke with such animated irritation about his grammar! She is incredulous that someone, at the age of four!, would dare use 'baby talk'. "Mom, I just don't know why he does it! He says, 'Me want that!' instead of using I!" she was floored! "Oh, it sounds like he speaks like Elmo," I replied. "NO! He isn't being Elmo, he just isn't right!" My big question is, why is she just noticing this now, two months before school is over? He has been in the class since the beginning of September, why is she just now aware of his speech? We had a field trip on Tuesday so I paid extra attention to him, and she is correct, he doesn't speak properly. I guess next year she can start proofreading for me!

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SOMETHING SCARY

I have been keeping my eyes peeled. For the last six days, I am on constant alert. I walk around the house, peeking under the couch, and behind any furniture I can. Sometimes three times in one hour. I have been having the occasional nightmare, one of the worst nightmares a mother of a toddler can have. I lay awake, concentrating on each section of the house, wondering where this scary, putrid monster might be. I sometimes do a double take, looking at what cup Baby Mouse has in her hands, making sure it isn't the dreaded, "LOST SIPPY CUP!!!" Yes, last Friday we lost a sippy cup and have yet to find it. I am terrified she will locate it before I do. I imagine her taking a swig of the aging nasty inside it and I throw up a little. My only hope is that she threw it away. She has been fascinated with throwing things away lately, so I hope that is why I can't find it. I hope it is tucked away in one of our garbage bags at the dump, far, far away from her grasp. Pray for me.

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PS, Do you think this bold type is better? I think I prefer it, but let me know.

Oh. My. Goodness.

http://typatch.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-sister.html

Talk about the flip side!! I just read this, and I am floored. Who knew?!

Wondering

Well, today is my birthday! And guess what? The kitchen floor still needs to be mopped and the laundry pile isn't shrinking. I guess life goes on. I should be tackling one of these projects or any of the 43 other things that should be taken care of, but instead, here I sit. I was putting away the pictures I scanned on Monday, and on the flip side of the family portrait is the date 4-6-74. That means I was 4 days old. I was 4 days old, and my mother took us all out to get a family portrait! She rocks! Four days after any of my kids popped out you could find me with each hair sticking on end, wearing nasty clothes and walking around with frozen vegetables clutched to my chest. It got me wondering though, about my parents, and how they were feeling as they drove to the hospital to have me. About what they were thinking about me and if any of those thoughts came to be. Did they think I was going to be a boy? Did they hope I would be?

What went through their minds when the doctors told them I was born with dislocated hips? How was it for them, taking their infant every month to the doctor so she could get her cast removed, and get a new one put on? Did they dread it or just see it as one month less to go? When I was born sucking my thumb, did they ever imagine it would last well into the end of elementary school, and how difficult it would be to stop? Could they even imagine how stubborn a child could be? Did they try for a long time to get pregnant the second time, or did they want almost five years between children? Was I the long awaited blessing? Was I an 'oops'? Could they understand my intense desire to move away from home, to be an adult, to be on my own, or were they just offended? Could they understand why I didn't want to go to the prom, why I didn't want to go to high school graduation? Why I just wanted to go? I saved all of my money from babysitting, from work, from holidays. I saved it all for the day I could leave, but did they understand that? What did they imagine me doing, eighteen, on my own, thousands of miles away with no family, and no phone? How much worry did I invoke? How many tears? Or, were they just furious with me, mad that I didn't follow their advise? Did I turn out to be any of the things they surely must have discussed and dreamed about? Do they look back on this day, my birthday, wondering why things went the way they did, wishing anything different had happened? Do they still discuss and dream about my future- my adult future? Does it ever end, when you are a parent? I don't think it ever stops. You are always their child, always their hope, always their blessing.

Last Day Of The Year

This is the last day of the year that I will go to bed this age. Tomorrow is not only a brand new day, but a brand new number for me. I have really never cared about birthdays, or felt old because of a number. Other things might make me care, or make me feel old. Like, the other day when the seventeen-ish girl at the music store said "Uhg, we are selling cassettes, these are like, the crappiest things ever made!" Umm, I have half a garbage bag filled of them downstairs. CDs suck, in my opinion. They get scratched, like albums did, and they break wicked easy if you happen to sit on one. What? You never sat on a CD? Does anyone remember the mixed tape? Oh, I would make mixed tapes for my friends, of songs we liked, or silly songs we would laugh at. I would wait forever by the stereo with the blank cassette on pause, just in case the radio station played my current favorite song and if it came on, I would leap over my bed to hit 'record'. Usually the dumb DJ would talk on the last few seconds of the song and ruin it. Or even better, if a boy you liked handed you a tape that he recorded 'special' songs for you on and he wrote a little something on the blank spot where you're suppose to list what is recorded. Ahh, romance. Anyway, I don't feel like I'm hours away from being 34. I feel the same I did ten years ago, really. Except, I don't work for money. And my clothes have a combination of snot and muddy footprints on them instead of being dusted with hair from a day at work. And my house is littered with toys and kids instead of having three cute dogs running around. And my car is an eight year old sedan, stuffed with carseats and food remnants instead of a two year old spicy red mustang with a killer stereo. (if I wasn't so lazy I would scan a picture of it) OK, maybe I do feel a little old. But young at heart. Anyway, I'm going to go downstairs and look for that Poison tape, its gotta be down there some where...