After all of the recent attention to the "Real Housewives" of several different county's across the US, I have a bone to pick.
I feel as though these "real housewives" don't have a clue what being a housewife is all about. A few differences I have noticed are:
I'm not on TV, but I do make payments on one.
I don't have a housekeeper, but I have a good vacuum cleaner from Target and get my cleaning supplies from the dollar store. I have time to clean at the beginning and end of every day.
I don't have a nanny to raise my children, but I do pay for quality child care and manage to keep them fed, bathed, clothed, entertained, played with, loved on and alive for a couple hours every morning, in the evening and all weekend long.
I don't have a chef, but my coupons often buy me some really fancy things to cook after I pick up the kids from school, and also things to put in our lunch boxes.
I don't have a personal trainer, but my kids motivate me to be healthy so that I can be around for them. Not financially around, but in their lives around.
When my husband is "away on business" (at football practice/games) I don't go out on the town for drinks after my long hard week of managing all of my assistants. I stay at home and let the boys fall asleep in my bed after we eat pizza and popcorn for dinner!
I work 40 hours per week at a job outside of the home in addition to my "real job" and also manage to have several friends that I stay in contact with. I plan my own vacation, and fold my own laundry-after I wash it myself. All of this on about 7 inconsistent hours of sleep.
Seriously, I don't know how these poor women manage all that they do. Whatever it is that they do? Reality schmality.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Lies
Lying is built in from birth. All kids start lying to get out of trouble, to get what they want, or for sport. But parents lie too. I do.
Yesterday I went to pick Gus up from school and asked him to get all of his things out of his cubby. He came back with his blanket, his lunchbox, and a long stuffed blue lizard. I asked, is that your lizard? Yes. Where did you get it? From the prizebox. You got THAT lizard from the prizebox? Yes. (the prize box is a shoe size box) Let me ask Ms. Lisa. No. Ms. Lisa, did Gus get this lizard from the prizebox? No he did not-that belongs to someone else. Gus, you need to put that back where it goes. Why did you tell me it was yours? Oh, I guess it got down out of his cubby and walked into mine. ALL LIES!
Then on the way home he asked me if Uncle and Abbey were at Mammies house. No, not today buddy. They're at their house. Pulled up at Mammie's and there's Uncle and Abbey.
Mommy, I don't want any vegetables on my plate. Son, all you have is corn, beans and burger...there are no vegetables on your plate.
And my best lie of all. As I took Simon to his first day of school with his big brother this morning, I coached him on how to be a good big brother and this is the lie I told. Did you know that Uncle is my big brother and when we were in school, he would protect me and not let anyone hurt me. He was always good and kind to me because I was his little sister. He never wanted anything bad to happen to me. And you're just like Uncle aren't you-a good big brother? And he bought my lie and smiled:)
Now, part of this wasn't a lie, as I NOW have a good big brother...but the younger years...not so much!
Yesterday I went to pick Gus up from school and asked him to get all of his things out of his cubby. He came back with his blanket, his lunchbox, and a long stuffed blue lizard. I asked, is that your lizard? Yes. Where did you get it? From the prizebox. You got THAT lizard from the prizebox? Yes. (the prize box is a shoe size box) Let me ask Ms. Lisa. No. Ms. Lisa, did Gus get this lizard from the prizebox? No he did not-that belongs to someone else. Gus, you need to put that back where it goes. Why did you tell me it was yours? Oh, I guess it got down out of his cubby and walked into mine. ALL LIES!
Then on the way home he asked me if Uncle and Abbey were at Mammies house. No, not today buddy. They're at their house. Pulled up at Mammie's and there's Uncle and Abbey.
Mommy, I don't want any vegetables on my plate. Son, all you have is corn, beans and burger...there are no vegetables on your plate.
And my best lie of all. As I took Simon to his first day of school with his big brother this morning, I coached him on how to be a good big brother and this is the lie I told. Did you know that Uncle is my big brother and when we were in school, he would protect me and not let anyone hurt me. He was always good and kind to me because I was his little sister. He never wanted anything bad to happen to me. And you're just like Uncle aren't you-a good big brother? And he bought my lie and smiled:)
Now, part of this wasn't a lie, as I NOW have a good big brother...but the younger years...not so much!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Raising People
Being a parent is challenging on so many levels. The biggest challenge I have is the fact that I am partly responsible for raising people. Little people that will become big people and hopefully contribute to society..and not with community service.I'm overwhelmed with the idea that I am an influence on someones (2 someones) personalities. However sometimes I think that dusty is mostly responsible given the personality traits of Gus & Simon that are unfavorable. Like kicking and screaming when you take them OUT of the bathtub...who does that?
I've talked about this with friends before and worry about it a lot. We as parents can raise our children in a happy home, take them to church, equip them with our highest knowledge, and yet they still have to make the choice to go right or left. I'm sure each person can name someone they know that was "raised right" that chose the wrong lane. Granted, we've all branched off the paved road and some have even gotten lost in the woods, but I'm talking about the people that choose the dirt path with roots tripping them along the way. This path, is the one I want to keep my kids from even hearing about.
Gus has a friend at school that is a little bit "dirt path" and he thinks this kid is so cool. This worries me. If my 4 year old already prefers trouble makers then I have reason to believe my corralling skills are going to have to sharpen to keep him not exactly on the straight and narrow but at least on the 4 lane.
No matter how hard we try as parents to steer our children, anytime they act out or someone else hears of something they've done, it immediately falls back on the "parenting" Ever heard "product of your raisin"? Basically, I'm trying to make a disclaimer that if my boys turn out bad, we did our best ok?
I've talked about this with friends before and worry about it a lot. We as parents can raise our children in a happy home, take them to church, equip them with our highest knowledge, and yet they still have to make the choice to go right or left. I'm sure each person can name someone they know that was "raised right" that chose the wrong lane. Granted, we've all branched off the paved road and some have even gotten lost in the woods, but I'm talking about the people that choose the dirt path with roots tripping them along the way. This path, is the one I want to keep my kids from even hearing about.
Gus has a friend at school that is a little bit "dirt path" and he thinks this kid is so cool. This worries me. If my 4 year old already prefers trouble makers then I have reason to believe my corralling skills are going to have to sharpen to keep him not exactly on the straight and narrow but at least on the 4 lane.
No matter how hard we try as parents to steer our children, anytime they act out or someone else hears of something they've done, it immediately falls back on the "parenting" Ever heard "product of your raisin"? Basically, I'm trying to make a disclaimer that if my boys turn out bad, we did our best ok?
Friday, August 19, 2011
Kids these days
"Gus-pick up your shoes and take them inside" "GASH! Do I have to do everything around here?" Yes son, you have to cook and clean and maintain this household.
There are days when you want to talk to your child like they are adults, but you gotta catch yourself and hold it in! He seems to be an adult most days. Gus has always been mature. Sometimes that's a good thing and sometimes, it bites us in the rear:) I'll tell him to keep his hands to himself and I get- But I gotta give you a hug with my hands Mamma. True, and I do love hugs.
He's very independent too. Always has been. He wants to do everything himself, which is normally fine, unless you are wanting to accomplish anything else that day. Pulling him out of the bed takes about 10 minutes. Getting dressed in the mornings is a 30 minute process. Brushing his teeth takes about 5 minutes. Eating breakfast is another 10-15 minutes. Putting shoes on is about 3 minutes. Then comes the rituals. Get a hug, kiss, noggin, Eskimo kiss, pirate kiss and then another hug. Grab his blanket and fight to get his chocolate milk out of his hand and then out the door. So, he needs to be up at 4am really. If you don't do these things in order, you're destined for a bad day. Or should I say, Pre-school is destined for a bad day. Which we try to avoid for teachers and other kids sake.
Simon seems to be maturing equally as fast. He now says "mama, guh, no, ball" He points and plays ball and peep-eye. When he plays peep-eye, sometimes only one eye gets covered all the way...but the pride he has when he pulls his hands away just melts my heart:) He's been walking for 2 1/2 months already and is fixing to turn 1 on 9/7. Where did the past year go? It doesn't matter how hard you try on a daily basis, you never can quite soak it all in. My memories of him being an infant are already fading. Gus being Simon's age is a distant memory.
Uncle and Abbey just brought Gus a "knife" back from Montana. Complete with a leather/fringed Indian pouch for it to be stored in. Last night he came into my room and said "If you see any alligators, you call me, and I'll come chop em up with my knife" Will do buddy! He slept all night with his knife in his bed. I felt safer.
There are days when you want to talk to your child like they are adults, but you gotta catch yourself and hold it in! He seems to be an adult most days. Gus has always been mature. Sometimes that's a good thing and sometimes, it bites us in the rear:) I'll tell him to keep his hands to himself and I get- But I gotta give you a hug with my hands Mamma. True, and I do love hugs.
He's very independent too. Always has been. He wants to do everything himself, which is normally fine, unless you are wanting to accomplish anything else that day. Pulling him out of the bed takes about 10 minutes. Getting dressed in the mornings is a 30 minute process. Brushing his teeth takes about 5 minutes. Eating breakfast is another 10-15 minutes. Putting shoes on is about 3 minutes. Then comes the rituals. Get a hug, kiss, noggin, Eskimo kiss, pirate kiss and then another hug. Grab his blanket and fight to get his chocolate milk out of his hand and then out the door. So, he needs to be up at 4am really. If you don't do these things in order, you're destined for a bad day. Or should I say, Pre-school is destined for a bad day. Which we try to avoid for teachers and other kids sake.
Simon seems to be maturing equally as fast. He now says "mama, guh, no, ball" He points and plays ball and peep-eye. When he plays peep-eye, sometimes only one eye gets covered all the way...but the pride he has when he pulls his hands away just melts my heart:) He's been walking for 2 1/2 months already and is fixing to turn 1 on 9/7. Where did the past year go? It doesn't matter how hard you try on a daily basis, you never can quite soak it all in. My memories of him being an infant are already fading. Gus being Simon's age is a distant memory.
Uncle and Abbey just brought Gus a "knife" back from Montana. Complete with a leather/fringed Indian pouch for it to be stored in. Last night he came into my room and said "If you see any alligators, you call me, and I'll come chop em up with my knife" Will do buddy! He slept all night with his knife in his bed. I felt safer.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Energetically tired
Feeling very tired today. Energetically tired. Does that make sense? My mind is energized, the rest of me is tired. As usual, I have spread myself thin and have entirely too much going on at one time.
We are moving a little bit every single day. I'm helping one of my dearest friends move. Our garden is overflowing. Picking up my sitter and taking her home everyday (till her car is fixed) Starting a new children's program at church. Unpacking and arranging the new place. Trying to catch up with my Dad before he goes out of town. Cleaning offices. Working 40 hours. Football practice. Oh, and being a mom.
We had the bright idea to move a little bit every day so that when it came to "moving day" it wouldn't be a mad rush to get everything done all at once. Because, if you know me, I'm not going to bed until everything has found a home. Lego's included. I still think it's a good idea. Just tiring every single day instead of one whole weekend. Hopefully we will be all done Friday and will be able to enjoy our weekend a bit:)
I laid in bed last night counting backward from 100...about 30 times and finally said to myself "forget it, just get up and pack" so I did. Until it's all done, I won't get any rest.
Gus and Simon keep me smiling and I know that it's worth it for them. They are going to enjoy their new space and Dusty and I will certainly enjoy our new sleep...Gus won't be able to wake Simon up when he's heading to bed..Simon won't wake Gus up when he gets up to eat. Ahhhhhhh...I hear the silence now!
I'm so excited to cook in my new kitchen and plan on using every dish in the house because I will have a dishwasher. Yeah buddy! Also, a bathtub! You just don't know how much I've missed soaking in the tub. As well as giving kids an actual bath and not a shower. Babies get slippery when wet.
Naptime.
We are moving a little bit every single day. I'm helping one of my dearest friends move. Our garden is overflowing. Picking up my sitter and taking her home everyday (till her car is fixed) Starting a new children's program at church. Unpacking and arranging the new place. Trying to catch up with my Dad before he goes out of town. Cleaning offices. Working 40 hours. Football practice. Oh, and being a mom.
We had the bright idea to move a little bit every day so that when it came to "moving day" it wouldn't be a mad rush to get everything done all at once. Because, if you know me, I'm not going to bed until everything has found a home. Lego's included. I still think it's a good idea. Just tiring every single day instead of one whole weekend. Hopefully we will be all done Friday and will be able to enjoy our weekend a bit:)
I laid in bed last night counting backward from 100...about 30 times and finally said to myself "forget it, just get up and pack" so I did. Until it's all done, I won't get any rest.
Gus and Simon keep me smiling and I know that it's worth it for them. They are going to enjoy their new space and Dusty and I will certainly enjoy our new sleep...Gus won't be able to wake Simon up when he's heading to bed..Simon won't wake Gus up when he gets up to eat. Ahhhhhhh...I hear the silence now!
I'm so excited to cook in my new kitchen and plan on using every dish in the house because I will have a dishwasher. Yeah buddy! Also, a bathtub! You just don't know how much I've missed soaking in the tub. As well as giving kids an actual bath and not a shower. Babies get slippery when wet.
Naptime.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Decisions
I remember when decisions were made for me and I hated it. Now, I'm glad to have a partner to make a decision with, or have made for me.
So many things change as you get older. When Dusty and I were dating, our biggest decisions were, where are we going to eat, what were we going to do this weekend, and what do we want to watch on TV. Now, we base decisions off of our marriage-what is best for us as a couple, our kids-where they will go to school, how our decisions effect them, etc. etc. and lately-my grandmother.
Being a live in "caretaker" for my grandmother has been a journey. She had a huge hand in raising my brother and I, and boy am I thankful to have had her and my grandfather. They taught us so much and kept us grounded. She is one of the sweetest people you will ever meet, and makes the best sweets around. Not to mention light fluffy buttermilk biscuits:) While she is super sweet, she is super stubborn. Pretty sure that's where I got my "strong will" She's funny about things being the way and the time she wants. She has certain people that she likes to do certain things. Even though we live in the same house, she wants Uncle Jimmy to bring her paper every morning and feed the dog (which we also feed, so he's happy) Only Jeremy can change light bulbs and do handy work. Abbey takes her to the grocery store. Dad takes her to the Dr. My uncle takes her to Belk's. I get her prescriptions and fight with reverse mortgage companies, and Dusty takes her the mail! She is lucky to have so many people, but really, we are the lucky ones.
As our family has grown, our space has become limited to say the least. We are ready for our own place. This is something we've been talking about since Simon was born. We've talked, prayed, listened, sought advice, and talked some more. Should we buy, should we build, should we rent? Should we even move at all? I promised my grandfather in my last words to him that I would take care of her. Would he be disappointed? This is not a decision that has been easy or hasn't been completely thought out. Probably over analyzed by me. I do think that she is well enough to live on her own. She already does-we just happen to be downstairs.
It's time though. Our family of 4 needs to be on our own. We've decided to rent for now and wait on the market and for $$$preschool$$$ to be completed by both boys before we buy/build. It used to bother me that Dusty was terrified of commitment, but in this case, I think he's pretty smart.
I'll still get to go and see Mammie everyday. Pick up Gus from school and stop by and take her the mail. Pick her up for church on Sunday's and then maybe out for lunch if she's up to it. Gonna be a tough transition for all of us. But I know it's the right thing for our family now.
Therapeutic writing...hoping this helps!
So many things change as you get older. When Dusty and I were dating, our biggest decisions were, where are we going to eat, what were we going to do this weekend, and what do we want to watch on TV. Now, we base decisions off of our marriage-what is best for us as a couple, our kids-where they will go to school, how our decisions effect them, etc. etc. and lately-my grandmother.
Being a live in "caretaker" for my grandmother has been a journey. She had a huge hand in raising my brother and I, and boy am I thankful to have had her and my grandfather. They taught us so much and kept us grounded. She is one of the sweetest people you will ever meet, and makes the best sweets around. Not to mention light fluffy buttermilk biscuits:) While she is super sweet, she is super stubborn. Pretty sure that's where I got my "strong will" She's funny about things being the way and the time she wants. She has certain people that she likes to do certain things. Even though we live in the same house, she wants Uncle Jimmy to bring her paper every morning and feed the dog (which we also feed, so he's happy) Only Jeremy can change light bulbs and do handy work. Abbey takes her to the grocery store. Dad takes her to the Dr. My uncle takes her to Belk's. I get her prescriptions and fight with reverse mortgage companies, and Dusty takes her the mail! She is lucky to have so many people, but really, we are the lucky ones.
As our family has grown, our space has become limited to say the least. We are ready for our own place. This is something we've been talking about since Simon was born. We've talked, prayed, listened, sought advice, and talked some more. Should we buy, should we build, should we rent? Should we even move at all? I promised my grandfather in my last words to him that I would take care of her. Would he be disappointed? This is not a decision that has been easy or hasn't been completely thought out. Probably over analyzed by me. I do think that she is well enough to live on her own. She already does-we just happen to be downstairs.
It's time though. Our family of 4 needs to be on our own. We've decided to rent for now and wait on the market and for $$$preschool$$$ to be completed by both boys before we buy/build. It used to bother me that Dusty was terrified of commitment, but in this case, I think he's pretty smart.
I'll still get to go and see Mammie everyday. Pick up Gus from school and stop by and take her the mail. Pick her up for church on Sunday's and then maybe out for lunch if she's up to it. Gonna be a tough transition for all of us. But I know it's the right thing for our family now.
Therapeutic writing...hoping this helps!
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
It's just different
Trying to explain to Dusty how a mother's love is different is impossible. He tries to get it, but no man can really get it.
When your child is first born, those cries physically hurt you. You ache to hold your baby and make everything ok. Leaving them for the first time is equally as painful. By pain I mean, your heart hurts, your head hurts because of the cluster of thoughts, the guilt, the concerns, fear and love. All of these things cause true pain. There is no way to describe the bond formed by a mother and child. It is literally indescribable. Growing a human is the greatest gift, but boy does it have it's consequences.
The one I try most often to hide and explain, is the emotional toll. I can not watch a flippin Tide commercial without crying. If there is a child involved, there are tears for me. If I hear a sweet song, I cry. If I hear another mother's story, I'm having a breakdown. Uncontrollable emotions. Then, I get mad that I'm crying. Emotions triggering emotions. Beyond frustrating.
Simon is the sweetest little baby. He takes after his daddy in every way possible. The same blue/green eyes, the same build, the same head shape, and the same tender heart. Granted, Dusty doesn't cry when he's hungry-but he comes really close sometimes. Baby Simon gets his feelings hurt when you take something away from him. He cries when I set him down. He looses his breath when I walk out of the room. I do not get mad or blame him, because I created this. I wanted him to be my little baby. I let him sleep on me as much as possible when I was home...and still do.
I don't mind eating cold food because he wants his mamma. He won't be this way for long. Dusty is going to have pals for life. They aren't going to call me for advice. I'll embarrass them and they'll hate me for making them clean their rooms. Plus all these girls they date will not receive warm welcomes from me. So I choose to take my time with them now, while they still like 'ol Mom. Before they are embarrassed to be seen with me, or near me.
Being a mom is just different. You love far beyond your own boundaries, and then a little past that. You worry about things that are completely out of your control,, things that may not ever happen,, and things that have already happened.
When your child is first born, those cries physically hurt you. You ache to hold your baby and make everything ok. Leaving them for the first time is equally as painful. By pain I mean, your heart hurts, your head hurts because of the cluster of thoughts, the guilt, the concerns, fear and love. All of these things cause true pain. There is no way to describe the bond formed by a mother and child. It is literally indescribable. Growing a human is the greatest gift, but boy does it have it's consequences.
The one I try most often to hide and explain, is the emotional toll. I can not watch a flippin Tide commercial without crying. If there is a child involved, there are tears for me. If I hear a sweet song, I cry. If I hear another mother's story, I'm having a breakdown. Uncontrollable emotions. Then, I get mad that I'm crying. Emotions triggering emotions. Beyond frustrating.
Simon is the sweetest little baby. He takes after his daddy in every way possible. The same blue/green eyes, the same build, the same head shape, and the same tender heart. Granted, Dusty doesn't cry when he's hungry-but he comes really close sometimes. Baby Simon gets his feelings hurt when you take something away from him. He cries when I set him down. He looses his breath when I walk out of the room. I do not get mad or blame him, because I created this. I wanted him to be my little baby. I let him sleep on me as much as possible when I was home...and still do.
I don't mind eating cold food because he wants his mamma. He won't be this way for long. Dusty is going to have pals for life. They aren't going to call me for advice. I'll embarrass them and they'll hate me for making them clean their rooms. Plus all these girls they date will not receive warm welcomes from me. So I choose to take my time with them now, while they still like 'ol Mom. Before they are embarrassed to be seen with me, or near me.
Being a mom is just different. You love far beyond your own boundaries, and then a little past that. You worry about things that are completely out of your control,, things that may not ever happen,, and things that have already happened.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Learning to fit
Ever feel like you just don't fit somewhere? I think I've felt that way most of my life. When I find someone that I really like, I tell Dusty "they're us people." I don't like being made felt inadequate, left out, dumb, or wrong. (unless I'm wrong)
I think of myself as the black sheep of the family. Maybe even a goat, on top of it's house, with it's hooves painted pink...standing out from the crowd by a mile.
While the rest of my family is in real estate, I sell insurance. I love what I do. For whatever reason, once people find out that I am Steve Owen's daughter (& most of them don't even know he has a daughter), they are floored that I'm not working in real estate. I tell them "I do work in real estate-I clean their bathrooms." It just doesn't interest me. I'd probably be better off working there, but I'm ok being me and loving what I do everyday. Point is, I'm happy and tired of trying to convince people that I'm good.
I know that my choices aren't the choices of others. I'm sure I've made wrong decisions and done things a little backwards more than once, but God has led me to where I am and I am beyond thankful for my blessings. So many differences exist, but different isn't wrong/bad. I like making my own way-it feels better. I am to the point in my life that I think most of us get to. It's like take it or leave it. Of course there is always room to work on the better version of myself. Striving for excellence I believe my pastor calls it:)
I don't like being in a crowded, stiff room where I obviously don't belong. I don't like the uncomfortable feeling of trying to fit. I've never pretended or claimed to be something or someone that I am not. I don't need to impress anyone, and I think it looks foolish to do so. Don't compromise your character by playing a part. I've heard people's accent change just by being around someone with an accent. Also, I am not a fan of the fake laugh! Stick to your guns and be you. I can usually tell when I annoy people and I'll get my feelings hurt and turn to anger. But I'm going to be working on that. You do you, I'll do me.
So I guess this learning to fit rant kinda turned into me being me...Square peg in a round hole in most situations-just can't make it fit! I shall surround myself with squares.
I think of myself as the black sheep of the family. Maybe even a goat, on top of it's house, with it's hooves painted pink...standing out from the crowd by a mile.
While the rest of my family is in real estate, I sell insurance. I love what I do. For whatever reason, once people find out that I am Steve Owen's daughter (& most of them don't even know he has a daughter), they are floored that I'm not working in real estate. I tell them "I do work in real estate-I clean their bathrooms." It just doesn't interest me. I'd probably be better off working there, but I'm ok being me and loving what I do everyday. Point is, I'm happy and tired of trying to convince people that I'm good.
I know that my choices aren't the choices of others. I'm sure I've made wrong decisions and done things a little backwards more than once, but God has led me to where I am and I am beyond thankful for my blessings. So many differences exist, but different isn't wrong/bad. I like making my own way-it feels better. I am to the point in my life that I think most of us get to. It's like take it or leave it. Of course there is always room to work on the better version of myself. Striving for excellence I believe my pastor calls it:)
I don't like being in a crowded, stiff room where I obviously don't belong. I don't like the uncomfortable feeling of trying to fit. I've never pretended or claimed to be something or someone that I am not. I don't need to impress anyone, and I think it looks foolish to do so. Don't compromise your character by playing a part. I've heard people's accent change just by being around someone with an accent. Also, I am not a fan of the fake laugh! Stick to your guns and be you. I can usually tell when I annoy people and I'll get my feelings hurt and turn to anger. But I'm going to be working on that. You do you, I'll do me.
So I guess this learning to fit rant kinda turned into me being me...Square peg in a round hole in most situations-just can't make it fit! I shall surround myself with squares.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Look at who we have
I've talked about the American Dream before and how it means different things to different people. We, like a lot of people, struggle to make it through week to week, paycheck to paycheck. It's life. We aren't any better than anyone else, and we don't deserve anything special. We have 2 cars, 2 kids, 2 daycare costs, and countless bills. We get it paid. Some months, it's scrappy groceries-but we get it paid.
It would be easy to wallow in our sadness over stuff we don't have. First and foremost, I'd love to have my own house. I'd love to have a singlewide trailer. Something that was mine-my own space (our family's own space) I don't mind being around to take care of my grandmother. I'd do anything in the world for her and want to see her stay at home. But living with anyone will eventually wear on you and cause issues. You have to put yourself aside completely as a mother and as a caretaker for an elderly person. You are on their time! More stuff I'd like-lots of clothes and shoes and new furniture and stuff that I don't even have room for. Yeah-stuff!!
Most people are in the same boat as us. They get help from their parents be it monetary, caretaking of their grandkids to avoid daycare costs, or in our case, no rent/mortgage. We're all in the same boat in one way or another. Unless you're what "us people" call rich and actually own your home and all your stuff.
But you know what-it's ok. We are happy. We know that stuff won't make us happy. Money would just cause us to buy more stuff or things that we don't really need. We are ok just getting by because it's what we do and who we are for this moment in time. Soon enough the boys will be in school and we'll wonder what to do with all this extra money. Oh yeah, college tuition for 2! Soon enough, the boys will be out of the house and we'll have too much extra room, empty space. The house will be quiet and we will miss their voices.
Dusty and I stood in the kitchen this morning on our anniversary and I looked down at both of the boys and instead of saying, "look at all we have" I said "look at who we have!" What a wonderful blessing those boys are! They make up for all the stuff in the world.
It would be easy to wallow in our sadness over stuff we don't have. First and foremost, I'd love to have my own house. I'd love to have a singlewide trailer. Something that was mine-my own space (our family's own space) I don't mind being around to take care of my grandmother. I'd do anything in the world for her and want to see her stay at home. But living with anyone will eventually wear on you and cause issues. You have to put yourself aside completely as a mother and as a caretaker for an elderly person. You are on their time! More stuff I'd like-lots of clothes and shoes and new furniture and stuff that I don't even have room for. Yeah-stuff!!
Most people are in the same boat as us. They get help from their parents be it monetary, caretaking of their grandkids to avoid daycare costs, or in our case, no rent/mortgage. We're all in the same boat in one way or another. Unless you're what "us people" call rich and actually own your home and all your stuff.
But you know what-it's ok. We are happy. We know that stuff won't make us happy. Money would just cause us to buy more stuff or things that we don't really need. We are ok just getting by because it's what we do and who we are for this moment in time. Soon enough the boys will be in school and we'll wonder what to do with all this extra money. Oh yeah, college tuition for 2! Soon enough, the boys will be out of the house and we'll have too much extra room, empty space. The house will be quiet and we will miss their voices.
Dusty and I stood in the kitchen this morning on our anniversary and I looked down at both of the boys and instead of saying, "look at all we have" I said "look at who we have!" What a wonderful blessing those boys are! They make up for all the stuff in the world.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Trapped
Vacation was nice and pretty uneventful. Oddly uneventful. So we came home and made an event.
Saturday morning we were getting back into our routine, washing clothes, organizing,etc. I put some eggs on the stove for an egg salad sandwiches and went to shower. Dusty was going to put some clothes away and closed the door in order to get into his closet. I rounded the corner in time to see him tugging diligently on the door handle. Twisting, turning, tugging and turning a different color. Hmmmm..what's the problem? The door isn't budging.
There are a few ways that I could react, of course I choose panic mode. We'll never get out, who will raise the children? Why did this happen to us? We're good people! We'll surely die before the days end!! Dusty is going through dresser drawers looking for his weapon of choice...im thinking..pants..shorts, what are you looking for exactly? I look on top of the bookshelf for the tiny screwdriver we have there due to Gus' habit of locking the bathroom door from the inside. I find the tiny screwdriver and get to work- by work I mean more panic. Our phones are on the other side, we can't call for help, oh God help us! Gus starts pulling on the other side and I explain to him that we are stuck and he needs to go tell Mammie that she needs to call Uncle. This means Gus is going to take the gate down and give Simon. Access to the stairs. Yay. So we find a regular screwdriver (for whatever reason it was on top of Dusty's nightstand-kinda alarming) and Dusty starts working.
I hear Mammie trying to open the door and explain to her what's going on. She goes upstairs to call Jeremy. Of course for those of you who know Mammie, you realize that this might take a minute. Also, there is the fact that she has a cordless phone but has to stand next to the handset in her mind. She will even set down the cordless phone to go find a phone number to recite to me as I wait on the other end.
I am still in panic mode and beginning to cry and rock back and forth if sitting or pacing. I yell for Gus and he's not responding...that means he went upstairs. So where is baby Simon? Is he alone? Is he scared? Is he halfway up the stairs? Dusty tells me" go over there Emily" in hindsight im wondering what good would 5ft away do? He felt as though he needed to be in control of an out of control situation. So I do what any out of control, panicked, worried mom would do-started chipping away at that door as hard and as fast as I could with the screwdriver. After about a minute Dusty took over while I resumed pacing and talking about the boys being raised while we were trapped in our room, how scared Simon must be and how much I would miss the sunshine. Dusty said here hold the screwdriver at an angle (very obviously not listening to me explain how our lives were OVER) so I did and kept on explaining our certain doom and pop, he pulled the door open.
Oh. That's it? We're out? I run upstairs and tell Mammie we're free and kiss my children. Mammie and Gus had each taken one of Simon's hands and drug him up the stairs:) I came back down and saw there was still 8 minutes left on the eggs...the timer was set for 15 minutes. Longest 7 minutes ever!
Saturday morning we were getting back into our routine, washing clothes, organizing,etc. I put some eggs on the stove for an egg salad sandwiches and went to shower. Dusty was going to put some clothes away and closed the door in order to get into his closet. I rounded the corner in time to see him tugging diligently on the door handle. Twisting, turning, tugging and turning a different color. Hmmmm..what's the problem? The door isn't budging.
There are a few ways that I could react, of course I choose panic mode. We'll never get out, who will raise the children? Why did this happen to us? We're good people! We'll surely die before the days end!! Dusty is going through dresser drawers looking for his weapon of choice...im thinking..pants..shorts, what are you looking for exactly? I look on top of the bookshelf for the tiny screwdriver we have there due to Gus' habit of locking the bathroom door from the inside. I find the tiny screwdriver and get to work- by work I mean more panic. Our phones are on the other side, we can't call for help, oh God help us! Gus starts pulling on the other side and I explain to him that we are stuck and he needs to go tell Mammie that she needs to call Uncle. This means Gus is going to take the gate down and give Simon. Access to the stairs. Yay. So we find a regular screwdriver (for whatever reason it was on top of Dusty's nightstand-kinda alarming) and Dusty starts working.
I hear Mammie trying to open the door and explain to her what's going on. She goes upstairs to call Jeremy. Of course for those of you who know Mammie, you realize that this might take a minute. Also, there is the fact that she has a cordless phone but has to stand next to the handset in her mind. She will even set down the cordless phone to go find a phone number to recite to me as I wait on the other end.
I am still in panic mode and beginning to cry and rock back and forth if sitting or pacing. I yell for Gus and he's not responding...that means he went upstairs. So where is baby Simon? Is he alone? Is he scared? Is he halfway up the stairs? Dusty tells me" go over there Emily" in hindsight im wondering what good would 5ft away do? He felt as though he needed to be in control of an out of control situation. So I do what any out of control, panicked, worried mom would do-started chipping away at that door as hard and as fast as I could with the screwdriver. After about a minute Dusty took over while I resumed pacing and talking about the boys being raised while we were trapped in our room, how scared Simon must be and how much I would miss the sunshine. Dusty said here hold the screwdriver at an angle (very obviously not listening to me explain how our lives were OVER) so I did and kept on explaining our certain doom and pop, he pulled the door open.
Oh. That's it? We're out? I run upstairs and tell Mammie we're free and kiss my children. Mammie and Gus had each taken one of Simon's hands and drug him up the stairs:) I came back down and saw there was still 8 minutes left on the eggs...the timer was set for 15 minutes. Longest 7 minutes ever!
Friday, June 10, 2011
Was that you?
We are gathered here today...what was the rest?
You know the ole American Dream? House, cars, kids, love, fences, hammocks, dog, lemonade, bbq's, evening strolls, summer breezes, etc. I think we have a few of those-I just can't find the time to enjoy them. "Stop and smell the roses" We have roses? That's been the past few months. Adding baby Simon has been like adding 5 new people. I don't know if it's because we had such a good routine and were 2 against 1, always out-numbering the little person, or if that's just what happens. This is a typical afternoon.
Dusty picks up Gus. I pick up Simon. We meet at the front door. Hello. Go in and Dusty unloads Gus' lunch box, I unload Simon's diaper bag. Usually there is a dirty diaper, so I wash it out and add it to the diaper pail. Dusty starts making lunches, I start making dinner. Oh, grab Simon a bottle. Put the bottle in the microwave, 31 seconds and...breaker tripped. Turn off the toaster, microwave bottle, it's 100 degrees-oh yeah, turn AC back on. Start some laundry, "I wanna go outside and play" let Gus out-make him swear to stay in the front yard, continue with dinner as Simon pulls on my shorts. Scream at Gus to get back in the front yard. BREAD'S BURNING!!
Sit down to eat dinner...Gus doesn't like it. What do you want...uh candy and ice cream. Ok, well just eat this instead. Dusty eats while Simon clings to me, I go eat while Dusty bribes Gus to eat bite by bite, then Dusty gets 2nds while I start cleaning.
We play.
I wash Simon in the kitchen sink, Dusty gives Gus a bath (or vice versa) WHERE IS SIMON'S towel? Breaker tripped. Did you put the clothes in the dryer? No, I thought you did. Bring me the wipes. Now I need diaper rash cream. You give Gus his medicine while I give Simon his. Wait, I already gave Gus his. No, you didn't. Well then I already gave it to Simon. Are you sure? No. Did you take your medicine today? No...me either.
Time to put on jammers-which for whatever reason is also a signal that the end of the world is upon us. "I wanna do it myself" "Fine, do it" "I need help" "Ok" "Don't help me""Ok" "I'm telling" "Fine, tell" "Mommy-Daddy won't help me" ???? Do you want help or not???? Simon is falling asleep in my arms and Gus screams and wakes him up. Ok, I'm going to lay him in his crib- the only safe place for him in our home. "OK, Simon is asleep" "Bringing Gus in" Gus comes in- "I wanna read a stoooorrrryyy" Oh, lookey lookey, Simon's awake. One of us read's "OTIS" the story about a tractor-the same story we read every single night, night after night after night, and then we get ourselves ready for bed.
We're laying there and Gus comes in. 1. I need to go pee pee. 2. I need to brush my teeth. 3. I just forgot to give you guys hugs. 4. I need water. 5. I forgot to check on you guys. 6. There's a monster in my room. 7. Uhm, baby Simon flewed up (threw up) 8. There's a dragon snake under my bed. 9. Turn your TV off guys. 10. Just checking to see if you guys were scared. (That's the top 10 of an infinity of things that could go wrong)
Was that you I passed earlier with poop in your hair? Yeah, was that you hiding in the closet? Thought so.
Come to think of it, he never asks how I got the poop in my hair, and I never asked why he was hiding in the closet-it's pretty safe guessing either way.
Looking forward to our day date tomorrow-Walmart, here we come!!!
You know the ole American Dream? House, cars, kids, love, fences, hammocks, dog, lemonade, bbq's, evening strolls, summer breezes, etc. I think we have a few of those-I just can't find the time to enjoy them. "Stop and smell the roses" We have roses? That's been the past few months. Adding baby Simon has been like adding 5 new people. I don't know if it's because we had such a good routine and were 2 against 1, always out-numbering the little person, or if that's just what happens. This is a typical afternoon.
Dusty picks up Gus. I pick up Simon. We meet at the front door. Hello. Go in and Dusty unloads Gus' lunch box, I unload Simon's diaper bag. Usually there is a dirty diaper, so I wash it out and add it to the diaper pail. Dusty starts making lunches, I start making dinner. Oh, grab Simon a bottle. Put the bottle in the microwave, 31 seconds and...breaker tripped. Turn off the toaster, microwave bottle, it's 100 degrees-oh yeah, turn AC back on. Start some laundry, "I wanna go outside and play" let Gus out-make him swear to stay in the front yard, continue with dinner as Simon pulls on my shorts. Scream at Gus to get back in the front yard. BREAD'S BURNING!!
Sit down to eat dinner...Gus doesn't like it. What do you want...uh candy and ice cream. Ok, well just eat this instead. Dusty eats while Simon clings to me, I go eat while Dusty bribes Gus to eat bite by bite, then Dusty gets 2nds while I start cleaning.
We play.
I wash Simon in the kitchen sink, Dusty gives Gus a bath (or vice versa) WHERE IS SIMON'S towel? Breaker tripped. Did you put the clothes in the dryer? No, I thought you did. Bring me the wipes. Now I need diaper rash cream. You give Gus his medicine while I give Simon his. Wait, I already gave Gus his. No, you didn't. Well then I already gave it to Simon. Are you sure? No. Did you take your medicine today? No...me either.
Time to put on jammers-which for whatever reason is also a signal that the end of the world is upon us. "I wanna do it myself" "Fine, do it" "I need help" "Ok" "Don't help me""Ok" "I'm telling" "Fine, tell" "Mommy-Daddy won't help me" ???? Do you want help or not???? Simon is falling asleep in my arms and Gus screams and wakes him up. Ok, I'm going to lay him in his crib- the only safe place for him in our home. "OK, Simon is asleep" "Bringing Gus in" Gus comes in- "I wanna read a stoooorrrryyy" Oh, lookey lookey, Simon's awake. One of us read's "OTIS" the story about a tractor-the same story we read every single night, night after night after night, and then we get ourselves ready for bed.
We're laying there and Gus comes in. 1. I need to go pee pee. 2. I need to brush my teeth. 3. I just forgot to give you guys hugs. 4. I need water. 5. I forgot to check on you guys. 6. There's a monster in my room. 7. Uhm, baby Simon flewed up (threw up) 8. There's a dragon snake under my bed. 9. Turn your TV off guys. 10. Just checking to see if you guys were scared. (That's the top 10 of an infinity of things that could go wrong)
Was that you I passed earlier with poop in your hair? Yeah, was that you hiding in the closet? Thought so.
Come to think of it, he never asks how I got the poop in my hair, and I never asked why he was hiding in the closet-it's pretty safe guessing either way.
Looking forward to our day date tomorrow-Walmart, here we come!!!
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Mom wakes up from sickness and finds....
My dad has appropriately named us the "Sick family Robinson's" Out of 9 days, we have been to the dr 8 of them. Some days, two by two. It started with Gus on his birthday, went to Dusty-who never gets sick and I had to open my mouth. "If you get sick, me and Simon are really in for it" My throat started hurting and I kept putting it off. Simon got sick and there was talk of him being sent to Mission, so I put it off again. So I got all my little chickies sorted out and then I went to get myself checked out. Dr said my tonsils looked terrible...hmm..got my tonsils out in 2006...so they must look pretty bad by now. 2 days later I went back and got new meds since I'm allergic to the first meds and I'm feeling better & waking out of the hydrocodone coma.
At one point I remember saying something about the house, which was met with some grunting and glances. It looked like someone turned the house upside down and shook it, then set it right side up again. For whatever reason, the toy bins were completely empty. Some of the toys were outside on the sidewalk, they were of course all over inside surfaces/floors and even a few in the trash can. I know that taking on a house and 2 boys isn't easy but-why is there milk running down the oven? Has anyone..any one of you bathed? What have you been eating? Who had popcorn for breakfast? Not a single fruit or veggie is included in any of those items. You do realize there is an ant colony in this window sill? The blanket you've covered Simon with-is that the same one he threw up on that I had in the laundry basket? There is a pile of dollar store receipts on the counter and some art made out of Popsicle sticks.
Everyone is alive, The laundry is done, and dishes are washed-he's a good man, but I gotta laugh:)
At one point I remember saying something about the house, which was met with some grunting and glances. It looked like someone turned the house upside down and shook it, then set it right side up again. For whatever reason, the toy bins were completely empty. Some of the toys were outside on the sidewalk, they were of course all over inside surfaces/floors and even a few in the trash can. I know that taking on a house and 2 boys isn't easy but-why is there milk running down the oven? Has anyone..any one of you bathed? What have you been eating? Who had popcorn for breakfast? Not a single fruit or veggie is included in any of those items. You do realize there is an ant colony in this window sill? The blanket you've covered Simon with-is that the same one he threw up on that I had in the laundry basket? There is a pile of dollar store receipts on the counter and some art made out of Popsicle sticks.
Everyone is alive, The laundry is done, and dishes are washed-he's a good man, but I gotta laugh:)
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Sleepwalkers and babies don't mix
Maybe you readers are getting tired of poop stories, but in my house, they just keep coming.
We have finally established a routine with Simon for night feedings. The first time he gets up, Dusty goes in and gives him a bottle, props him up on the boppy and leaves the room. I go in on the next cry of starvation and gently rock him while feeding him and change his diaper and lay him back down. Last night was different. Very different.
Dusty was not feeling well so I took the first shift. Later in the night, Dusty took his turn of going in to give Simon a bottle. He came back and laid down and about 5 minutes later, Simon was still fussing. I roused and Dusty said-ughghgh, he needs a new diaper, he's peed through that one and it's all over the bed. Ok, if you knew that had happened, why did you not change him. He jumps up, slams the covers and goes in and I hear-"OH GREAT" Then he comes into the room holding Simon like a sack of potatoes under his arm-naked demanding "where are the wipes" So I just get on up and go into the boys room....squish. "Why is there poop on my foot?" "Cause that's where it was when I found it on him" "You found the poop on Simon as he levitated in the air beside his crib?" "No, I can't find the wipes" "Why is he naked, where is his diaper?" "You try changing a baby when you don't feel good" Ok, now I realize that Dusty is sleepwalking while holding the baby, and I have poop on the bottom of my foot with no wipes in sight.
I hop into the kitchen and get a paper towel to handle my situation for the moment, come back and ask Dusty calmly and gently to give Simon to me and go back to bed. So he sits Simon on the changing table-poop side down. Hmmph. Breathing. Breathing. Get Simon changed, clean the crib, clean the changing table, clean the floor, go clean my foot again for safe measure, and head back to bed. Cue alarm clock.
So I question Dusty about the mornings events and he bust out laughing about me stepping in poop.
We have finally established a routine with Simon for night feedings. The first time he gets up, Dusty goes in and gives him a bottle, props him up on the boppy and leaves the room. I go in on the next cry of starvation and gently rock him while feeding him and change his diaper and lay him back down. Last night was different. Very different.
Dusty was not feeling well so I took the first shift. Later in the night, Dusty took his turn of going in to give Simon a bottle. He came back and laid down and about 5 minutes later, Simon was still fussing. I roused and Dusty said-ughghgh, he needs a new diaper, he's peed through that one and it's all over the bed. Ok, if you knew that had happened, why did you not change him. He jumps up, slams the covers and goes in and I hear-"OH GREAT" Then he comes into the room holding Simon like a sack of potatoes under his arm-naked demanding "where are the wipes" So I just get on up and go into the boys room....squish. "Why is there poop on my foot?" "Cause that's where it was when I found it on him" "You found the poop on Simon as he levitated in the air beside his crib?" "No, I can't find the wipes" "Why is he naked, where is his diaper?" "You try changing a baby when you don't feel good" Ok, now I realize that Dusty is sleepwalking while holding the baby, and I have poop on the bottom of my foot with no wipes in sight.
I hop into the kitchen and get a paper towel to handle my situation for the moment, come back and ask Dusty calmly and gently to give Simon to me and go back to bed. So he sits Simon on the changing table-poop side down. Hmmph. Breathing. Breathing. Get Simon changed, clean the crib, clean the changing table, clean the floor, go clean my foot again for safe measure, and head back to bed. Cue alarm clock.
So I question Dusty about the mornings events and he bust out laughing about me stepping in poop.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Decisions
Who knew that making slight decisions would make such a huge difference. You would think that something that has a major outcome would take a sit down, talk it over, maybe even sleep on it decision making process. Not the case with kids.
It's more a fly by the seat of your pants and see what happens. I recently won the mother of the year award for one such decision.
Gus had a very bad day at school, and continued to have a bad day on the t-ball field. I needed milk, so the decision to stop at the grocery store was already made. I threatened Gus with his usual threats, and gave him some rewards to look forward to if he was good. Well, he was very good. He sat in the buggy, helped me stack some groceries and was very good to his brother. It all took a turn for the worse when we got to the parking lot. I unloaded all of the groceries while Simon sat in the buggy and Gus stood on the front. I grabbed my purse and Simon and went to put him in the car-"don't move Gus or you'll get hit by a car" turn, walk, "don't push the buggy Gus, you'll hit a car" turn back, "Gus stop doing that or you'll fly into that car" turn, put Simon in his seat, out of the corner of my eye, catch a flash of cart+Gus headed towards a car 3 spots over...run...rescue, turn the corner and cue Simon falling head over heals towards the pavement. I lunge forward and my purse goes sailing spilling out all of the contents into the gust of wind, fall on my knees and get my hand under Simon's......foot. Yay. I saved his foot and let his head hit the concrete. Perfect outcome.
Other people are walking through the parking lot looking at me like "How on earth did you just let so many things go wrong at one time" "Where is DSS when you need them?" I felt like the worst mom on planet earth, and planet 51. Which kid to save-the decision seemed easy-the one in danger. But as I'm learning, someone is always in danger. Usually, everyone is in danger when kids are involved. So everyone is fine except for my shin which suffered road rash.
It's more a fly by the seat of your pants and see what happens. I recently won the mother of the year award for one such decision.
Gus had a very bad day at school, and continued to have a bad day on the t-ball field. I needed milk, so the decision to stop at the grocery store was already made. I threatened Gus with his usual threats, and gave him some rewards to look forward to if he was good. Well, he was very good. He sat in the buggy, helped me stack some groceries and was very good to his brother. It all took a turn for the worse when we got to the parking lot. I unloaded all of the groceries while Simon sat in the buggy and Gus stood on the front. I grabbed my purse and Simon and went to put him in the car-"don't move Gus or you'll get hit by a car" turn, walk, "don't push the buggy Gus, you'll hit a car" turn back, "Gus stop doing that or you'll fly into that car" turn, put Simon in his seat, out of the corner of my eye, catch a flash of cart+Gus headed towards a car 3 spots over...run...rescue, turn the corner and cue Simon falling head over heals towards the pavement. I lunge forward and my purse goes sailing spilling out all of the contents into the gust of wind, fall on my knees and get my hand under Simon's......foot. Yay. I saved his foot and let his head hit the concrete. Perfect outcome.
Other people are walking through the parking lot looking at me like "How on earth did you just let so many things go wrong at one time" "Where is DSS when you need them?" I felt like the worst mom on planet earth, and planet 51. Which kid to save-the decision seemed easy-the one in danger. But as I'm learning, someone is always in danger. Usually, everyone is in danger when kids are involved. So everyone is fine except for my shin which suffered road rash.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
These days
Now that I'm back to work and life is going 100 mph, I've got time to blog:)
Being back at work is not as hard as I thought it would be. I guess once you've left the 1st one, the 2nd one isn't so bad. You realize that they will be there at the end of the day. I miss holding him while he goes to sleep and the sweet smiles and giggles. Simon is such an easy going kid. If I would have had him first, I would have told you I would have 10 more kids. Gus...however did not cause that same feeling.
He has loved being back in school and is excited to tell us his days events. He's equally excited if he goes into or avoids the grumpy seat. To him, pride can be for doing good or bad! He's starting to get the hang of it though. We signed him up to play t-ball and his world away from mom and dad has begun. He goes out on the field and listens to his coaches, throws a random ball, slides into 2nd, and leaves us behind. He does like to come over and get high fives after making it all the way around the bases. I have a feeling we are going to be spending a lot of time on the sidelines for the next 18 years (or longer if they apply themselves unlike their father...still hate seeing those recruiting letters from colleges) Gus is into baseball, football, soccer,basketball,volleyball,kickball,hockey,golf, and if I've missed anything-then that too.
Track is still going on. 2 kids made it to regionals and will compete on Saturday at WCU. I have the annual CF walk on Saturday morning and then will be headed up town to hang flyer's for the SSG Charlie Bagwell Memorial Scholarship fun, and then hopefully a little time with family. The following weekend will be our actual benefit, then the next weekend is Gus' birthday party and White Squirrel Festival. May is the never ending month, but I'm so glad to be a part of everything that I'm involved in.
Life may be going 100mph, but I have learned how to take the time for important things, like hugs, pulling snails out of the dryer and slobbery kisses!!
Being back at work is not as hard as I thought it would be. I guess once you've left the 1st one, the 2nd one isn't so bad. You realize that they will be there at the end of the day. I miss holding him while he goes to sleep and the sweet smiles and giggles. Simon is such an easy going kid. If I would have had him first, I would have told you I would have 10 more kids. Gus...however did not cause that same feeling.
He has loved being back in school and is excited to tell us his days events. He's equally excited if he goes into or avoids the grumpy seat. To him, pride can be for doing good or bad! He's starting to get the hang of it though. We signed him up to play t-ball and his world away from mom and dad has begun. He goes out on the field and listens to his coaches, throws a random ball, slides into 2nd, and leaves us behind. He does like to come over and get high fives after making it all the way around the bases. I have a feeling we are going to be spending a lot of time on the sidelines for the next 18 years (or longer if they apply themselves unlike their father...still hate seeing those recruiting letters from colleges) Gus is into baseball, football, soccer,basketball,volleyball,kickball,hockey,golf, and if I've missed anything-then that too.
Track is still going on. 2 kids made it to regionals and will compete on Saturday at WCU. I have the annual CF walk on Saturday morning and then will be headed up town to hang flyer's for the SSG Charlie Bagwell Memorial Scholarship fun, and then hopefully a little time with family. The following weekend will be our actual benefit, then the next weekend is Gus' birthday party and White Squirrel Festival. May is the never ending month, but I'm so glad to be a part of everything that I'm involved in.
Life may be going 100mph, but I have learned how to take the time for important things, like hugs, pulling snails out of the dryer and slobbery kisses!!
Monday, April 4, 2011
Blues
Some days are worse than others. Some weeks even. Last week was my "grey week". It was a combination of constant rain, Gus on his worst behavior, and Simon having several issues. He was teething, he was getting bullied and he was fighting sleep every chance he got. I quickly became overwhelmed and crawled inside myself unable to regain control. I think a lot of moms feel this way, but don't talk about it much. I felt like I was gonna explode. Like it was "groundhogs day". Being a stay at home mom, I start and end my day in the same place. 24/7. This job is not for everyone-including me. I was craving my desk, my computer, my office, my silence. Originally the plan was to go back to work in September. Then I decided August was a good month, and now the start date is July 1. We'll see if it changes again:) I know I will miss my boys, but I also know that I'll be home to see them at the end of everyday! I'm just not the "make my own play-doh, let the kids paint the walls, and every Tuesday is library day" kinda mom. I wish I could afford to do more things out of the house with them, but living off of a "generous" teacher's salary-I can't. Gus loves the structure of school. We are so pleased with Little Blessings Learning Center for all that they provide Gus. He is a different kid on the days he goes to school, so I'm ready for him to be full time like- tomorrow! Dusty will be home this summer, so he can hang with Simon till school starts. Then we'll piece together the remainder of the time till he gets to start at Little Blessings in September. Anyway, I tried the stay at home mom thing and for the most part, I have enjoyed it. I've loved my time with Simon as an infant. I didn't get to have that with Gus and knowing that we aren't having anymore kiddos, I don't regret this time at all. But I'm not built to sit inside while the rain pours down. I don't think that I'm a bad mom, or a bad person for wanting to work. Women put so much pressure on each other one way or the other depending on their personal beliefs/situations and it's not fair. Do you, and I'll do me...at an office...and then I'll come home to my boys who will love me just the same:)
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Gardening
Sitting here watching Simon crawl around pushing a yellow bucket and thinking how happy kids are. Not a trouble in the world. He is so proud of himself for his accomplishments that he just throws his head back and laughs. Gus is carefree most days, as long as the llamas are not in our yard. The llamas worry him, especially when they get near the garden. "Hey llamas, you get away from our garden. Uncle's gonna be so mad atchoo!" Somehow the garden only belongs to Gus and Uncle. Abbey and I pulled weeds, cleaned off last years bean row, planted seed and plants, hauled sod, filled the burn pile with branches and unearthed never ending grapevines. Gus said "We didn't see you workin. We saw you talkin & sittin in the grass." What? We were both offended by the 3 year old. He may be 3, but he would outperform a lot of adults in the garden. He digs, he hoes, he plows 2 inches behind uncle (with his plow) he rakes, pushes the wheelbarrow, and is our #1 potato gatherer. He can tell you what is planted where and if it grows above or below the dirt. When we aren't in the big garden (or various little gardens) He has plowed up his own garden in our front yard. It seems to be to scale of the big garden. He has a burn pile beside it, just as our big garden does. He plows, hoes, rakes, plants, waters and harvests...and that's all in an hour:) He's very serious and focused on his work. In the shower, he has a watering can, so once again-he plants, waters, & harvests. I'm glad he enjoys it so much, but wish he would give his Aunt Abbey and ole Mom a little credit. Gus and Uncle....gonna be a long summer!
Monday, February 28, 2011
Hazard's on, let's go!
It is extremely rare that my sister-in-law, Abbey, and I get to go and DO anything. Saturday night, we were going to seize that rare opportunity and get crazy. I got everything ready for the "boys night in" which consisted of Dusty, my brother, Gus, and Simon.
As we were leaving, Gus started acting really sad about me leaving and said he didn't want me to go. I loved him up a few extra minutes and told him he could have some yogurt if he wanted it. He said "but they won't let me" with the most pitiful voice and face you've ever seen. I assured him that he could have some and shouted inside that I was leaving and Gus could have yogurt.
We left the house and talked about how excited we were to have this time together, and headed towards Rosman to the Miss Bengal pageant. (told ya we were wild) Abbey parked the car and we got out. We had gotten about 20 feet away from the car when the phone rang and Abbey picked up "Do you miss me already" and then I watched as her face changed and so did her direction..we were headed back to the car and my stomach sank. Jeremy said that Simon cut his finger, it was a long story, but he might need a stitch. I felt physical pain.
On the way home I tried to call, but no one would answer. I figured there was a finger missing and no one wanted me to be alarmed. I knew for them to have called me back that it was serious and that Simon was crying uncontrollably. Boy was I right.
I walked in and grabbed Simon. Gus was running circles in the front yard and Jeremy and Dusty were running circles inside. I saw paper towels and scotch tape laying on the table and almost laughed, but my baby was crying. I held him tight and tried to see the wound but it was bleeding too bad. I wrapped it in a burp cloth and starting spitting orders. You-get a bottle. You-get a towel. You-what happened?
Dusty was cutting open the yogurt that Gus had asked for, with scissors, while holding the infant child. Simon, of course, tried to grab the scissors and snip!
We finally all got everything together and got into the car. "Hazard's on, let's go" So we're on our way and I say, "I think you're allowed to speed when there's an infant bleeding in the back seat, and you're in a passing zone" Dusty said "yes but there was a line of cars, can't you see" "No, I was praying" "Oh" We then got behind a van that apparently felt that hazard lights were pretty to look at. No matter how many steering wheel slams and "Come on people" we were stuck until finally, we hit the 4 lane. Free at last!! Except for that state trooper. You're kidding me right?
Dusty weaves in and out of traffic all the way to the ER. Check in and..........wait. No one looks quite as emergent as my child. Except that my child is fast asleep and the bleeding has stopped. We all feel entitled to be first in the ER don't we. "No one is as sick as me or my child" We register and wait again. Get called back into a room and...wait again. At one point, I told Dusty he was going to have to start taking care of himself because he was hurt worse than Simon was. Poor guy!! 2 1/2 hours later and thankfully with Simon still sleeping, the Dr comes in, glues it, slaps a sticker on and we're out the door in less than 10 mins.
I see a market for dermabond-Parents. Sell it, and we will buy it. I personally will buy in bulk. It will save us hours! We can even use what's leftover on household projects.
As we were leaving, Gus started acting really sad about me leaving and said he didn't want me to go. I loved him up a few extra minutes and told him he could have some yogurt if he wanted it. He said "but they won't let me" with the most pitiful voice and face you've ever seen. I assured him that he could have some and shouted inside that I was leaving and Gus could have yogurt.
We left the house and talked about how excited we were to have this time together, and headed towards Rosman to the Miss Bengal pageant. (told ya we were wild) Abbey parked the car and we got out. We had gotten about 20 feet away from the car when the phone rang and Abbey picked up "Do you miss me already" and then I watched as her face changed and so did her direction..we were headed back to the car and my stomach sank. Jeremy said that Simon cut his finger, it was a long story, but he might need a stitch. I felt physical pain.
On the way home I tried to call, but no one would answer. I figured there was a finger missing and no one wanted me to be alarmed. I knew for them to have called me back that it was serious and that Simon was crying uncontrollably. Boy was I right.
I walked in and grabbed Simon. Gus was running circles in the front yard and Jeremy and Dusty were running circles inside. I saw paper towels and scotch tape laying on the table and almost laughed, but my baby was crying. I held him tight and tried to see the wound but it was bleeding too bad. I wrapped it in a burp cloth and starting spitting orders. You-get a bottle. You-get a towel. You-what happened?
Dusty was cutting open the yogurt that Gus had asked for, with scissors, while holding the infant child. Simon, of course, tried to grab the scissors and snip!
We finally all got everything together and got into the car. "Hazard's on, let's go" So we're on our way and I say, "I think you're allowed to speed when there's an infant bleeding in the back seat, and you're in a passing zone" Dusty said "yes but there was a line of cars, can't you see" "No, I was praying" "Oh" We then got behind a van that apparently felt that hazard lights were pretty to look at. No matter how many steering wheel slams and "Come on people" we were stuck until finally, we hit the 4 lane. Free at last!! Except for that state trooper. You're kidding me right?
Dusty weaves in and out of traffic all the way to the ER. Check in and..........wait. No one looks quite as emergent as my child. Except that my child is fast asleep and the bleeding has stopped. We all feel entitled to be first in the ER don't we. "No one is as sick as me or my child" We register and wait again. Get called back into a room and...wait again. At one point, I told Dusty he was going to have to start taking care of himself because he was hurt worse than Simon was. Poor guy!! 2 1/2 hours later and thankfully with Simon still sleeping, the Dr comes in, glues it, slaps a sticker on and we're out the door in less than 10 mins.
I see a market for dermabond-Parents. Sell it, and we will buy it. I personally will buy in bulk. It will save us hours! We can even use what's leftover on household projects.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
MOM UP
There are some things that mothers do, that are so completely super human, and then some things that they do that are just so disgusting that no man could ever imagine.
I am able to grow a human, feed this human with my own body inside and outside of the womb, go days on little sleep, have spit-up in my hair, literally be pooped on, spend all day with little ones and manage a clean house, dishes washed (by hand) bottles washed, bottles made for 24 hours, pull splinters from the depths of hands and feet, fix broken doors when they get slammed off their hinges, clean yogurt off of sliding glass doors, floors and the back of Simon's head(found that about an hour later), diapers are changed, kids are clothed, beds get made, I keep everyone alive, and I even manage to blog.
The other day, as some of you know, we found out that Gus had a major bowel impaction/blockage. We had to give him meds in order to help him pass it. DISCLAIMER:Stop reading if you're easily grossed out. Well, he passed it. The whole IT. I knew it wasn't going to go down in it's current "form" but what was I to do. I walked around the house knowing exactly what had to be done. But I didn't wanna do this. Was there any tool that I could use? Kitchen utensil...no cause I'd have to throw that away. Oh Lord, help me in this moment! So I sat down on his little bathroom stool and said to myself (outloud of course as crazy mom's do) "Emily, you gotta Mom up right here!"
Thank God and SC Johnson Company for rubber gloves!!!
I am able to grow a human, feed this human with my own body inside and outside of the womb, go days on little sleep, have spit-up in my hair, literally be pooped on, spend all day with little ones and manage a clean house, dishes washed (by hand) bottles washed, bottles made for 24 hours, pull splinters from the depths of hands and feet, fix broken doors when they get slammed off their hinges, clean yogurt off of sliding glass doors, floors and the back of Simon's head(found that about an hour later), diapers are changed, kids are clothed, beds get made, I keep everyone alive, and I even manage to blog.
The other day, as some of you know, we found out that Gus had a major bowel impaction/blockage. We had to give him meds in order to help him pass it. DISCLAIMER:Stop reading if you're easily grossed out. Well, he passed it. The whole IT. I knew it wasn't going to go down in it's current "form" but what was I to do. I walked around the house knowing exactly what had to be done. But I didn't wanna do this. Was there any tool that I could use? Kitchen utensil...no cause I'd have to throw that away. Oh Lord, help me in this moment! So I sat down on his little bathroom stool and said to myself (outloud of course as crazy mom's do) "Emily, you gotta Mom up right here!"
Thank God and SC Johnson Company for rubber gloves!!!
Monday, February 21, 2011
Mommie struggles
Every single day of Mommyhood presents new challenges. My life is no exception to this rule, by far. Most of my friends are mothers to one child. I noticed this more when I became pregnant with Simon. Was everyone else smarter than us? Were they on to something? Was I going to be able to do this? In an earlier blog, I expressed my fears of 2 children. How to juggle, share, feed and clothe. I've noticed that adding a childing doesn't just add to your load, somehow it quadruples your load, and subtracts from your brain.
An example is getting ready for church on Sunday's. With one child you get 3 people ready and pack a small bag. With two children, you start packing bags and bathing on Saturday night just to show up half-way through Sunday school. You hand off the baby, take the toddler to his class and sit in a tiny chair pretending like you're going to hang around. You excuse yourself "to the potty" and don't go back. Get half-way upstairs and remember you didn't tell them when the baby ate or was changed and what's in the bag. Go back down and explain your brain was not in the bag you packed last night and head back to your class. Sit down and grab your tea that you lovingly prepared, only you forgot the teabag so it's hot water with sugar and milk...mmm.
I do not complain because I understand and am thankful for my two beautiful blessings. I blog about it because I think we mommie's have struggles internally about our children everyday. I wonder when the boys are going to cast me aside for a girl, how they'll call their dad and ask for advice and say-don't tell mom. We can love them as much and as hard as we want to for now, but they'll grow up and move out all the same. I worry about everything that Gus is going through with sensory integration disorder. I worry that we "caused it" Did we spank too early? Did we hold him enough? Were we too quick to anger? All we can do as parents is learn from our mistakes, just the same way that we tell our children to do. "Don't do that again!"
Being a stay at home mom now, I'm learning how to relax and enjoy more. Being a working mom, I was always so rushed with our schedule and the next thing on the list. It was a rush from the moment I got home from picking Gus up, getting dinner ready, cleaning dishes, packing bags and lunches, bath time, bedtime and the day was done. I didn't make time to go to church because I used my family as an excuse, when all the while we would have still have family time for the one whole hour of church. I couldn't just sit on the porch and watch Gus play, or push him in the swing, go for a walk and throw sticks in the river, without thinking of what I had to do next.
We all need to give ourselves permission to stop and slow down, enjoy these blessings God has given us. I'd rather have an overactive toddler that bounces off the walls than one that can't walk. I'd rather have my chunky little baby than one that can't gain weight for medical reasons. In every complaint, someone else would be jealous. "One woman's floor is another woman's ceiling"
An example is getting ready for church on Sunday's. With one child you get 3 people ready and pack a small bag. With two children, you start packing bags and bathing on Saturday night just to show up half-way through Sunday school. You hand off the baby, take the toddler to his class and sit in a tiny chair pretending like you're going to hang around. You excuse yourself "to the potty" and don't go back. Get half-way upstairs and remember you didn't tell them when the baby ate or was changed and what's in the bag. Go back down and explain your brain was not in the bag you packed last night and head back to your class. Sit down and grab your tea that you lovingly prepared, only you forgot the teabag so it's hot water with sugar and milk...mmm.
I do not complain because I understand and am thankful for my two beautiful blessings. I blog about it because I think we mommie's have struggles internally about our children everyday. I wonder when the boys are going to cast me aside for a girl, how they'll call their dad and ask for advice and say-don't tell mom. We can love them as much and as hard as we want to for now, but they'll grow up and move out all the same. I worry about everything that Gus is going through with sensory integration disorder. I worry that we "caused it" Did we spank too early? Did we hold him enough? Were we too quick to anger? All we can do as parents is learn from our mistakes, just the same way that we tell our children to do. "Don't do that again!"
Being a stay at home mom now, I'm learning how to relax and enjoy more. Being a working mom, I was always so rushed with our schedule and the next thing on the list. It was a rush from the moment I got home from picking Gus up, getting dinner ready, cleaning dishes, packing bags and lunches, bath time, bedtime and the day was done. I didn't make time to go to church because I used my family as an excuse, when all the while we would have still have family time for the one whole hour of church. I couldn't just sit on the porch and watch Gus play, or push him in the swing, go for a walk and throw sticks in the river, without thinking of what I had to do next.
We all need to give ourselves permission to stop and slow down, enjoy these blessings God has given us. I'd rather have an overactive toddler that bounces off the walls than one that can't walk. I'd rather have my chunky little baby than one that can't gain weight for medical reasons. In every complaint, someone else would be jealous. "One woman's floor is another woman's ceiling"
Monday, January 17, 2011
Sleep
For all you parents that have the babies that sleep through the night, I don't like you. I'm super jealous. Go ahead and write a book about how you get them to sleep and all the routines you do to make this possible. I will go out and buy the book, read the book, study your methods, implement your methods, and they will not work.
Dusty and I don't make sleeping kids. Gus was up every 2-4 hours eating until he was around 18 months old and finally starting sleeping through the night. Simon, sleeps much better than this, but still gets up twice to eat. It doesn't matter what time he goes to bed or how much he eats before he goes to bed, I only ever manage 6 hours in my longest stretch of sleep. Simon might sleep for as long as 8 hours, but, he went to sleep at 7 and I don't go to bed until 11. Dusty gets up at 3 to feed him and then he's back up at 5...so I get 11-5.
Having half Owen in these boys means they would prefer to stay up until 1 am. I would like to stay up until 2 am every night, but I would need to sleep until 10 in order to appear to be human the next day. Dusty would like to sleep from 9pm until 5am. So when you add kids, we just don't sleep somehow. We could of course parent in shifts, but then we'd never see each other.
I miss Gus taking naps. That ended last summer. Simon naps, bvt that's usually the only time I'm not holding him and I have to get stuff done around the house:) I can't believe my little guy is already sitting up by himself.
Dusty and I don't make sleeping kids. Gus was up every 2-4 hours eating until he was around 18 months old and finally starting sleeping through the night. Simon, sleeps much better than this, but still gets up twice to eat. It doesn't matter what time he goes to bed or how much he eats before he goes to bed, I only ever manage 6 hours in my longest stretch of sleep. Simon might sleep for as long as 8 hours, but, he went to sleep at 7 and I don't go to bed until 11. Dusty gets up at 3 to feed him and then he's back up at 5...so I get 11-5.
Having half Owen in these boys means they would prefer to stay up until 1 am. I would like to stay up until 2 am every night, but I would need to sleep until 10 in order to appear to be human the next day. Dusty would like to sleep from 9pm until 5am. So when you add kids, we just don't sleep somehow. We could of course parent in shifts, but then we'd never see each other.
I miss Gus taking naps. That ended last summer. Simon naps, bvt that's usually the only time I'm not holding him and I have to get stuff done around the house:) I can't believe my little guy is already sitting up by himself.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
A bite of finger
How easy it is to blog when you have the best material ever. Your family.
Yesterday Dusty and I had to take Gus to the Dr. in Asheville. We had an appointment starting at 8:15 and then had to come back at 1:15. So we had 2 1/2 hours to kill in between them.
We decided to go to the Health Adventure. My two boys had the best time. Gus was very interested in how everything worked and Dusty was excited to get to jump up and see how high his vertical leap was...a few times. He got to show off his sit and reach skills and show Gus muscles and how they work. A very cool hands on museum right here in Asheville.
We still had time, so we went to grab some lunch. We ordered a pizza to split. When it came, Gus was so excited. He grabbed a piece of pie and said "Come to Papa" I have no idea where he gets this stuff. Gus and I were waiting on ours to cool while Dusty polished off his 3rd piece when all of a sudden he screamed "OUCH". I looked over and saw him shaking his hand. "Please tell me you did not just bite your finger....did you seriously just bite your own finger....the hand that feeds you??"
Yes he did friends. Yes he did.
I don't understand how he can eat so fast. How can you possibly enjoy what you're eating if you swallow it whole. Most of my friends note how long it takes me to eat. I simply enjoy tasting things. Plus, you eat less if you eat slowly. I'm always the last one eating, so it seems as though I can't get enough, but really, I'm just savoring.
Not Dusty, he wants the food as soon as it hits the plate. He can't wait to start the shoveling process. It doesn't matter how hot it is, he'll just take the burn. And when he's done, he uses his thumb to soak up whatever is left. I've been threatening him with blogging about his thumb scraping skills for a while. I wanted to have a name for it, but couldn't think of anything clever enough. I once asked, "Why the thumb" his reply makes sense to him "To get as much as possible at one time" I always have more food in the kitchen, and am worried that he might eat plates sometimes.
Gotta love that man of mine. Thumb swiping, finger biter.
Yesterday Dusty and I had to take Gus to the Dr. in Asheville. We had an appointment starting at 8:15 and then had to come back at 1:15. So we had 2 1/2 hours to kill in between them.
We decided to go to the Health Adventure. My two boys had the best time. Gus was very interested in how everything worked and Dusty was excited to get to jump up and see how high his vertical leap was...a few times. He got to show off his sit and reach skills and show Gus muscles and how they work. A very cool hands on museum right here in Asheville.
We still had time, so we went to grab some lunch. We ordered a pizza to split. When it came, Gus was so excited. He grabbed a piece of pie and said "Come to Papa" I have no idea where he gets this stuff. Gus and I were waiting on ours to cool while Dusty polished off his 3rd piece when all of a sudden he screamed "OUCH". I looked over and saw him shaking his hand. "Please tell me you did not just bite your finger....did you seriously just bite your own finger....the hand that feeds you??"
Yes he did friends. Yes he did.
I don't understand how he can eat so fast. How can you possibly enjoy what you're eating if you swallow it whole. Most of my friends note how long it takes me to eat. I simply enjoy tasting things. Plus, you eat less if you eat slowly. I'm always the last one eating, so it seems as though I can't get enough, but really, I'm just savoring.
Not Dusty, he wants the food as soon as it hits the plate. He can't wait to start the shoveling process. It doesn't matter how hot it is, he'll just take the burn. And when he's done, he uses his thumb to soak up whatever is left. I've been threatening him with blogging about his thumb scraping skills for a while. I wanted to have a name for it, but couldn't think of anything clever enough. I once asked, "Why the thumb" his reply makes sense to him "To get as much as possible at one time" I always have more food in the kitchen, and am worried that he might eat plates sometimes.
Gotta love that man of mine. Thumb swiping, finger biter.
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