You'll Look Twice at That Dropped Potato Chip

The county built a beautiful new park nearby and my kids and I had been itching to go. However, I don't function in heat, (read: I turn into a melting grouch who whines for iced coffee and a cabana boy to fan me in the shade), so we'd been putting it off for awhile. But a streak of 70 degree days had us scrambling to meet a friend and her two kids for a playdate in the sun.

The kids had a ball running around and trying out the new equipment. They only came to ask for food about 11 times instead of 235. An aside... what is it about going places that makes kids "hungry?" You know they're not hungry. You know this because they ate a full sandwich, yogurt, a pound and a half of fruit, and 37 pretzels before they left the house.

Around the 11th ask, it actually was lunch time, so we staked out a shady area on the turf, not far from the base of one of the slides. The kids happily munched away while we moms chatted.

A few minutes into lunch, inevitably, the newly potty-trained Sayer abruptly stood up and announced, "Mama! I have to pee!" I turned away for a second to put my sandwich down and said, "K, bud, let's go to the--"

I turned back around in time to see that my dear, sweet son had dropped his drawers right where he was standing and was happily creating a nice puddle of pee at the base of the slide. Horrified, I turned towards my friend whose eyes got wide. The two of us started shaking with laughter as we stared at S who was completely obvlivious. 

And of course, this was the longest pee of his life. Or maybe it just felt that way.

Cheeks burning and tears of laughter rolling down my face, I couldn't even look up to see if anyone else was watching. S finished his business, yanked up his pants, asked for "sanny-tize" and sat down expectantly.

I hurridly grabbed two half empty bottles of water from the stroller and started splashing them on the wet spot on the astroturf. This did not help the moisture problem. I now had the beginnings of a bigger puddle, this one of watered down pee.

Of course, I looked up to see a few moms who were staring at me funny, probably wondering why a sane looking woman was dumping bottles of water onto the ground at the very bottom of the slide. I caught the eye of one woman and quickly stepped in front of the emptying bottle to hide it from view and then waved.

She just stared. Which made sense because not only was I still obviously dumping water, but now that the bottle was behind me, it looked as if I was the one peeing all over the place.

The bottles emptied and I decided that nothing more could be done.

But when my daughter dropped a piece of apple onto the turf and made a motion to pick it up and eat it anyway, I may have ninja chopped it out of her hand.

Because REALLY, who KNOWS what people do on that ground?! Sheesh.

Enough

We all have those days. Those days when you've given a thousand kisses. When everyone is hanging on you, needing attention. When you've hauled around a toddler who seems allergic to the floor. There are those days when everyone wants something, anything, everything. And there's only one of you for a thousand needs. There are those days when the house is a mess, the kids are a mess... when you are a mess. When you have nothing else to give and you're empty, wanting to shout, "NO MORE!" with your hands over your ears.

And those little faces look up expectantly, so you don't.

Sometimes... sometimes those days come with rewards.

Sayer happened to be the last one to go to bed tonight, due to a late nap. As he wandered into my room asking, "can we just stay awake for a whittle bit more? And den I'll go in my bed," I asked him if he wanted to rock in the rocking chair with me like we used to do when he was younger. Smiling, he climbed into my lap, all solid arms and strong legs. He tucked his back against my chest and we grinned at our reflections in the mirror across the room.

I remarked to him, "You're getting so long! When you were teeny tiny, I could fit all of you on my lap."

He nodded seriously and said, "Yup. I am big. And Mama?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"When I get even bigger and bigger and bigger? And when I'm bigger than you and you're little?"

I smiled at the thought, "Yeah?"

"When I'm that big, I can snuggle you up on my lap and rock you and protect you from all the monsters." He patted my leg.

I had to swallow a lump in my throat as I snuggled him close. "You will? That's very sweet, buddy."

"Yup. Because Mama? That's what you do for me 'cause I'm little."

Indeed it is.

So, those days when you don't know if you can give anymore... Those beautiful kids that you pour all of your love, affirmation, encouragement, and belief into? They fill up and a little of it spills over and back into you.

And you can thank God for the reminder that your efforts are not in vain. That they hear, absorb, listen and know your love.

So, draw strength and carry on.

Kidisms - Episode # 11209

Driving in the car the other night, Sayer was nearly asleep when an ambulance drove by, lights flashing, siren wailing. He immediately gasped and shouted, "MOM! Did you SEE that?! I just saw... I just saw... I saw an ALIEN!"

"An alien?"

"YEAH! It had shiny lights and sounded like this, 'A woooooo woooooo!' An alien!"

I grinned, "An ambulance?"

He grinned back, "Yeah! An... annnn AM-BU-WANCE!"

I love kid mispronounciations. You'd think they'd disappear as the kids got bigger, but Lex had one of her own the other day that had me rolling in laughter.

We were at a minor league baseball game waiting to let the kids run the bases. Along the field line, they had a few staffers in super hero costumes, which of course, delighted my kids.

We recognized Batman, Superman, and most of the usual ones. Then there was a guy in a green costume, carrying a bow and arrow.  Lex wasn't sure who it was so she asked her cousin. She came back to tell me what she found out. "Mom, that one over there is Hot Guy!"

I tried to swallow my laughter and asked her to repeat herself.

"Hot Guy! Tucker told me it was Hot Guy! I like him and his bow and arrow. And I totally got to high five Hot Guy! Awesome!"

Michelle and I giggled and then Michelle said, "Hawk Eye?"

Lex looked at us strangely for laughing and said, "Yeah! Hot Guy! Hot.. Eye?"

"Hawk Eye."

"Oh! Hawk Eye!"

Very glad that was far more benign than it sounded.

Oh, Hi!

Posting has been light around these parts. Ok, posting has been non-existent.

My household has run the gamut of childhood illnesses lately. Three kids with hand-foot-mouth resulted in a quarantine that lasted nearly 3 weeks. We managed to get healthy enough to go out and about for the Fourth of July and directly after, ended up sticking close to home due to a stomach bug.

Perpetual illness is a given in a household of four children. One picks something up and unlike with toys, they gladly share it with every sibling that will breathe in the same air. Considering that several of my children have developed a weird habit of covertly licking things, the epidemic nature of germs is amplified.

Today, I made an appointment for Zoen as his stomach bug evolved into a cold which resulted in a wicked cough that had me wondering about pneumonia. (It's not, for the record). I also figured on an ear infection, because when it rains, it pours. (It was). I hauled all four kids into the office, which usually earns me a few, "My, you have your hands full!" (Nah, just my dungeon), or "Oh, these are all yours?" (Nope, stole a few on the way in).

This particular doctor's office has their doctors and nurses do something that leaves me marveling at its brilliance every time we go in. They blow bubbles immediately upon entering the room. The good, long-lasting, Gymboree bubbles. While the kids are chasing the bubbles, I can have a peaceful conversation. Genius. (They also use the bubbles as an evaluative tool, which just adds to the awesome factor).

Remember how I mentioned that they were the Gymboree bubbles? Yeah, those don't necessarily pop when they touch the floor or your head or the examining table. Instead, they stick and wait for a curious finger or foot to pop them.

I was running down the list of Z's symptoms for the doctor and half-paying attention to the older three kids. With my SuperMom underhearing, I caught Sayer excitedly saying, "MOM! I'm lick-popping the bubbles!" I ruffled his hair and started to say, "Cool, buddy!" and then my subconscious screamed, "He's DOING WHAT?!" I looked down just in time to see him stick his tongue all the way out and place it squarely on a bubble that had landed on the examining table. And before I could gather my wits, he dropped down to the floor and lick-popped another one.

I closed my eyes and tried to will my brain not to explode. I also had to swallow a bout of that hysterical laughter that wells up when the situation is too ridiculous to be actual life.

And this isn't the first time this has happened! Caly licked an examining table end to end once when she was about 2. You'd think I'd have taught my children tongue etiquette by now.

The doctor hid a grin and pretended to pull lollipops out of each of the kids' ears. That kept them from licking the trash can, at least.

So, here's a post, but I'm not promising anything regular. The kids probably picked up the Ebola virus or some extraordinarily virulent strain of a germ that causes a full body rash and a delightful case of the crankies.

Bedtime on Speed

Three out of the four munchkins have been down for the count with coxsackie virus (hand-foot-mouth, or otherwise known as sheer misery). The middle two had relatively mild cases, but Z was a mess. For the first day, he just wanted to sleep and when he wasn't sleeping, he was fighting a fever and being held. Then he got the sores and decided that sleep was for the weak. And he wanted to be held. Except he didn't want to be held. But don't put him down. And he didn't want to eat. Oh, and forget about drinking. And? He had a nice little ear infection to boot.

So we were bleary-eyed, watching for dehydration, and praying for this mess to leave.

Anyway, he's feeling MUCH better today. He's actually sitting on the table, eating a bowl of cereal while dancing to "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." He's sitting on the table because I'm so happy to have my kid back to normal that he can do just about as he pleases.

Or, my house looks like a tornado hit and coated everything with a sticky residue and a thousand dirty dishes so letting him sit there allows me unload the dishwasher in peace.

Because seriously, holding a baby for three days straight while the older three ran rampant, (before they got sick), doesn't exactly lead to a neat and tidy home.

But whatever. I'm stoked that we'll be out of quarantine tomorrow.

Anyway, like last time, being sick leads to interesting habits with my kids. Bedtime is particularly interesting. Last night, Shaun was out, so I was gearing up for a solo bedtime routine. Usually, this isn't a big deal.

The boys and I sat in the girls' room and I regaled them with a ridiculous story about a runaway dragon who needed his toenails painted and to be rescued by a superhero. Yeah, or something like that. I gave them kisses, tucked them in, turned out the light and took the boys out.

Sayer got his own kisses and hugs and a brief story and I tucked him in as well.

He puffed his lip out and said, "But... but... MAMA! I want a snuggle. No, TWO. No, EIGHTEEN!"

Now, I'm not quite sure how to quantify snuggles, so I gave him a bunch of squeezes and counted to 18.

Meanwhile, Z was climbing into S' bed and dive-bombing the elder brother and giggling. I knew no one was going to sleep at that rate, so I told S I'd be back to check on him and dragged the baby into my room to rock.

He was almost asleep when S appeared in the doorway. S doesn't seem to know how to whisper. And with one, "But MAMA, I am not dat tired!" Z was wide awake again. I gave S The Look and he trotted back to bed.

(It only took me four kids to perfect The Look).

Z drifted off again and I started to get up when Lex came in with the most dramatic pout on her face that I've ever seen and said in a louder-than-normal-speech stage whisper, "I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FALL ASLEEP!"

Because she hasn't been doing it every night for over 6 years or anything.

Another Look, another kid begrudgingly trotting back to bed.

I looked down and Z was peering up at me with bright, not-at-all-sleepy eyes. When I met his gaze, he bonked me on the head, giggled, and rolled off of my lap.

I scooped him up and went into S's room to see if maybe Z would drift off better if he heard the white noise. Besides, maybe my presence would lull S to sleep too.

Not... exactly. Z pretended to fall asleep several times only to sit straight up as soon as his body hit the mattress. Meanwhile, S was poking various limbs out of the window on his bed tent and periodically saying, "SHHHHH!"

Finally, I realized resistance was futile and took the boys in the living room.

Z was incredibly put-out that I dared to set him on the floor and he flopped face down and pouted. S laid next to him and patted his head and gave him kisses until Z was smiling again.

(That little exchange of sweetness made me want to delay bedtime every night. Almost).

Then Z decided he wanted to wrestle and ended up sitting on his older brother and sticking his fingers in S's nostrils. Sayer was cracking up. Z was cracking up.

And of course, Lex heard the commotion and ended up in the fray. It was 8:30. We had started bedtime at 7:15.

(Caly had fallen asleep by 7:20. She was totally the golden child of the day).

After much negotiation and a few stories, S was back in his bed and off to dreamland.

L wanted me to come in and say goodnight again. I told her no because Z would end  up waking up Caly and I wasn't about to deal with that mess. At this, Z turned towards me slightly, grinned, waved bye-bye, and took off towards the girls' room, laughing wildly as I chased him down.

That boy is too much.

Lex went to sleep and I spent the next 15 minutes diving after a very stealthy boy as he attempted to go raid the rooms of the sleeping children.

Shaun walked in the door and I handed him the baby and disappeared to eat my weight in guacamole.

Five minutes later, Z was out like a light. Of course.

Then we had to put the chickens to sleep. And that? That's a hilarious story for another day.

Anyway, I'm glad my people are nearly back to normal. I'll take a little craziness for that. Besides, when these kids are teenagers? Here's my documentation as to why I get to mete out payback. Oh, I will have my fun.

At 6am.

Muahaha!

(He thinks that face will get him out of trouble. He's kind of right... don't tell him that. Whatever, he already knows).

Lessons Learned

It's no secret that parenthood will teach you more about yourself than you ever thought possible. A dear friend likened the small people that run around our houses as tiny, magnifying mirrors. Uh, yes.

Obviously, I'm not a perfect person.

(What, you're surprised? I live to make you understand that I too am equal among the commoners).

Anyway, I've always had a tendency to swear when angry. Or when I accidentally slam my foot in the car door. Not my favorite thing about myself, so I've worked on it.

So when I had kids, I realized I should probably work a wee bit harder on my efforts to stop. For awhile, they were too little to tell the difference between a four-letter word like "duck" and a four-letter word like... well, you get the picture.

But gradually, they got old enough to parrot and I realized that I had to work double time to make sure they weren't going to yell the word that rhymes with spit when they dropped a block of cheese out of the cart at the grocery store.

I got very good with the filter. Stub your pinky toe on the bedroom door? "Super Smash Brothers!" Spill half a bottle of olive oil out on the floor? "Ratatouille!" Shatter the casserole dish on the floor that happens to have your uncooked dinner in it? "AAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGHHHHH!!!!" followed by some hissed words that probably don't need repeating.

Hey, I told you I wasn't perfect.

Anyway, like most things, my kids picked up on my weird word exclamation habit. Yesterday, Lex was in the back of the car and was exasperated by something and said,

"Oh peanut BUTTER and JELLY!"

Atta girl. Atta Mommy too.

Volcanoes and the Dentist

The other night, we had a sudden bout of severe weather headed in our direction. Severe thunderstorms aren't unusual in our area, but this time, we ended up with the treat of tornado warnings on top of them.

Relatively unconcerned, I gathered the kids and headed to the basement to hang out until the warnings were over. Because, better safe than sorry, of course. And if we were forced to stay in the basement, I could make a good case for them having to clean up their very own toy tornado.

Lexi picked up on the warning when she saw it flash across the television screen and worriedly asked if a tornado was going to whisk our house away. Because I value sleep, I told her that of course that wouldn't happen and the kids went about their business downstairs while I periodically checked on the warnings.

When the warnings expired, we came back upstairs and Caly said, "I'm glad that the volcano warning is over!"

And Lexi said, "Yeah, volcano warnings don't mean that a volcano WILL get us, but it might!"

I grinned and said, "Girls, not volcano... TORNADO."

Lex nodded and muttered, "Tornado. Right." Caly blinked at me. And said, "We had a volcano warning, too!"

I'm really glad that's not the case. Lava damage is not covered in our homeowner's insurance.

One of the other reasons that we are trying to straighten up the basement is that we're having a new roommate move in for awhile in a week or so. I mentioned that Dennis, the new roomie to be, was going to stop by to drop some stuff off and my social little people couldn't stop asking when he was going to arrive.

I broke a cosmic rule of parenting by telling them that he was coming since Dennis wasn't going to arrive until the following evening.

Caly must have asked me 793 times, "When is the DENTIST COMING!?"

Attempts to correct her into saying, "Dennis" were unsuccessful. "Mama, is the dentist here? When is the dentist coming?"

I'm very glad she's not correct. Dentists who make house calls are totally not on my list of modern conveniences I want to have in life.

Oh, kids.