The New Babysitter

Okay, I'll admit it...I am one of those moms. You know the moms that feed their kids super healthy and don't let their kids watch t.v.? That's me. As you know from previous posts, I am a stickler when it comes to food even when my kids go to other people's houses, but when it comes to t.v., I have been a little more relaxed. I know that when Noah goes to Bups house and to his Grandma's house, they let him watch the movie "Cars" and Sesame Street and I am okay with that. However when he is at home, I do not let him watch t.v. I know I am weird. I read an article once linking Autism and speech delay to t.v. viewing under the age of 2 and it freaked me out because I do believe everything I read. 

 This Thursday, Noah's grandma sent him home with the "Cars" movie since he loves it so much. I thought, Oh shoot! I don't want him  to get into the habit of watching t.v. at home but he already knows that the movie is now at home. What do I do? I gave in. On Friday, he saw the DVD case and asked to watch the movie. It couldn't be that bad right? I'd put it on for him once and then we'll be done with it. I stuck the movie in and...I experienced a piece of heaven...free time! I was amazed that I was able to get the dishes done, blog, brush my teeth, take a shower and get ready while "Cars" babysat for me. Even Maia was captivated by Mater, Lightening McQueen, and Doc. Needless to say I replayed the movie about 3 times yesterday. And now, I am in a bit of a quandary: Do I throw in the towel on my t.v. rule and enjoy my new found freedom or do I stick to my stupid no t.v. rule?...I've decided to return the DVD to Grandma's house although she may have to peel my fingers from it when I return it. But, I do know that if I ever am at my wits end, the video store is just a mile away! 

Dilemma

I need an action plan...here is my situation right now:

I've got a sink full of dishes and a living room full of toys and shoes. I look like death and smell like it too. I am in desperate need of a shower and a tooth brush. My refrigerator and cupboards are empty.  I have dirty laundry spilling out of every room.  Both my kids are in their jammies, one of them smells really bad and I think I can see that the poop has travelled up her back and is now leaking through her jammies. Instead of dealing with any of these situations...as usual...I am blogging about it instead. Oh shoot! My non smelly kid has started grunting loudly which means I am going to have two with poop. I need an action plan...quick! 

Love

** Update: I just wanted to say thank you to all of you who have left me such sweet comments and even for the phone calls and text messages I've received. I feel a little bad though because the purpose of this post was to show God's love in action not to receive more of it!!! You are all awesome. Just so you know, I am doing great and will most likely be back with a crazy Confession Mama post later today!

I feel compelled to write this post just because I feel so loved today, it is much different than anything I've ever written before and tell you the truth, I am thinking that I will probably delete it by the time I am done writing because this is my one secret...

I have always been extremely honest because that is just who I am but for the past 3 weeks I had a secret...a big one! As a result of this secret, we began praying big prayers and planning for a complete rearranging of our lives. Nausea, fatigue, and worry about what comments I would face consumed my days. My expanding body was quite disturbing to me because it had never expanded this fast before. How was I supposed to keep my secret hidden if my body wouldn't cooperate. I felt like I had to keep my secret until I had all the right answers for the questions that people would ask. Their inevitable questions and comments cluttered my brain: "You do know how that happens don't you?" "What are you going to do about child care?" "Where are you going to put the new one?" "Isn't your house only 2 bedrooms?" "Are you crazy?" We decided to tell no one. We'd keep our little secret until we could keep it no more. As the days passed by our excitement grew.  We prayed daily for this little one and asked God to provide. Our new baby would arrive September 13th, 2009.

  On January 25th, at 7 weeks pregnant, God took our baby home to be with Him. We were heart broken. A piece of me was gone and in a moment life drastically changed again. Sadness overwhelmed me but I had to go about life like normal since no one knew my secret. I put a smile on my face and went about my days while inside, emptiness and sadness tortured my soul.

My God is good all the time. As bizarre as it may sound, He allowed me to see how much He loves me through this situation. In my sorrow, I turned to Him and He comforted me through my best friends in the world. I poured my heart out to them and they were there for me. There were no insensitive comments or effort to say the "right thing." It was just pure and genuine concern and love for me. They showered me with kindness and prayer and began to heal my broken heart.  Although this seemed more than enough for me, God still had more love to pour over me. 

  To call Chuck and Pam a blessing in my life is a huge understatement. Words cannot describe how much they mean to us. They have taken in our kids as if they were their own grandbabies; they treat Ricky and I like a son and daughter; they have been beyond generous with us; and Chuck has provided me with the most perfect and fulfilling job and work environment that I could have ever asked for. Because of the relationship we have established with them, Ricky felt safe enough to share our secret with Chuck after we miscarried. Chuck mourned with Ricky, prayed with him, and imparted wisdom on him. The next day at work his heart was overflowing with concern for me. He couldn't help but share words of encouragement with me and pray with me and let me know that he hurt with me.  What a blessing. 

I have felt abundantly loved these past few days in the midst of one of the most difficult times in my life. Losing this baby has caused me to fall more in love with my Savior because He has so clearly shown me how much He loves me through His people: Angela, Kathy, Breanne, Jen, Chuck, and Pam. 

Thank you Lord for the beautiful people in my life who do your will and in the process comfort your broken child. Thank you for making your love for me so evident through them. You are so good to me even though I am undeserving. I love you...Please give my baby a kiss for me...

"The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:18

Wordless Wednesday

Maybe I'm Not Cut Out to be Fashionable

  Yesterday, I wrote about needing a little retail therapy...I gave into the urge and ended up with 2 pairs of boots, one pair of cute wedge shoes, and my first pair of skinny jeans. However, I realized that being fashionable is totally uncomfortable.

  I have never been the most trendy person. In fact, since I am a bargain shopper. I am always behind on the fashion trends.  I refuse to buy things until they go on sale which means I end up wearing them when they are going out of style. I also am not real comfortable in sporting the new styles as soon as they come out. I have to watch other people don them for awhile until I get used to the look and slowly gain confidence to adopt the style myself. So, for about 5 months now, I have been paying attention to the skinny jean with high boots look. It's so cute on other girls but I just didn't feel like I could pull it off. I've been into many clothing stores and tried on many pairs of skinny jeans and even bought 2 pairs only to return them.  However, yesterday, after my retail therapy session I finally took the plunge. I bought boots that were on sale which meant they were not returnable and I also bought my first official pair of skinny jeans (I took the tags off and threw away the receipt which makes them "official").  

  The result of my fashion conscious purchases are sore feet, indented legs, and a what is sure to develop into a bladder infection. Allow me to elaborate. In order for skinny jeans to look half way decent on me, they have to be asphyxiatingly tight. The process of putting them on is quite difficult. It involved holding my breath, squatting up and down, and lots of tugging. By the time I got them on I was sweating and I think I had what felt like rug burns on both my knees. When I sat down in my car, I could feel the seams indenting into my legs and I found myself relying on the promise of the girl in the store, "You're supposed to buy them tight, they'll stretch out as the day goes on." About 3 hours into my day, I began to feel pretty confident in my new look. People at work were complimenting my cute boots and I was feeling pretty good about myself.  Then the urge to pee hit me. But I thought about the process of getting my jeans on in the morning and I decided that it would be quite a shame if I went to the bathroom and was stuck in there for the rest of the day because I could not get my jeans to go back up. Thus, I held it...held it...and held it some more until my bladder was about to explode. I finally braved the bathroom and with a bit of a battle was able to get my jeans back on. By the end of the day although the jeans finally did stretch, I felt as though the seams of the jeans would be permanently engraved in my leg, my feet were throbbing, and I was having major stomach cramps from refusing to pee. Why do women do these things to look cute? Is it really worth it?...the answer to that is YES! Fashion over comfort ladies, right? I am just going to have to tough it out. Besides, my purchases are non-returnable so I might as well get some use out of them! 

I have written about this before, but here it goes again. I am in serious trouble! My son is fearless. Yesterday, daddy took him outside to play in his cherished red and yellow "cart" (Ricky sent me a text message today saying he wants to burn the "cart" because all we hear all day from our son is "Noah ride cart?"). All of a sudden I hear a thump and then I hear Noah's hearty laughter. I look outside the window to see what happened and I see Ricky riding his bike full speed toward Noah sitting in his cart. As soon as Ricky gets to him he swerves to the side and kicks the cart as he goes by. In the midst of his whip lash from the blow, Noah laughs hysterically. This goes on for a good 15 minutes, crash and laugh, crash and laugh. I think, Great, the neighbors are definitely going to be giving the cops a call because this crazy man is kicking his son's toy with his kid in it while riding his bike full speed ahead. Later I go outside to see what they were up to since it had been quiet for awhile.  Noah is on his tricycle (pretending it is a motorcycle by growling "vroom vroom") in the bushes about to be pushed off the curb by his daddy. He says, "Look mommy" as he bumps down off the curb into the street. Of course he wanted to do this over and over again. Once is never enough for that kid. The "off-roading" continued for quite sometime until daddy decided the bushes and the tricycle had taken enough of a beating.  With a father like Ricky, Noah is destined to be a professional extreme sports guy and I am destined to have costly hospital bills as he becomes professional. I need to make my peace with that! 

Shopping

Why is it that shopping is a cure-all? I've never been much of a shopper. In fact I am very frugal and I am always looking for a bargain. However, I had a really rough weekend and all I want to do for comfort is shop! I feel like if I buy a couple pairs of boots, some skinny jeans, a few cute tops, and a new dress I'll feel better and all will be right with the world once again. Is this a woman thing? I don't know what to make of this urge for a little retail therapy. I know that if I give into my urge, I'll feel horribly guilty for spending our grocery money on clothes and will feel even worse when my children wonder why they are eating canned beans for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for an entire month. Basically it's a lose lose situation. I think I'll try to comfort myself with a gallon of ice cream instead...much cheaper and it does not involve gassy children.

Drama Queen

One thing that tends to bug me is picky eaters. I think it is because I will eat anything, so I really don't understand why people make such a big deal about foods they don't like. I have a problem on my hands...my daughter is a picky eater. Noah is just like me, he will eat absolutely anything. Maia, on the other hand, tastes something she doesn't like and there is no way anyone can make her eat it. Today I gave her a jar of baby food that was called "Pasta Dinner." It is a blend of whole wheat noodles and vegetables. She hated it. I even tried mixing it with fruit, but she was not having it...

Drama Queen from Taleah Murray on Vimeo.

My Kid is Too Smart

My son is hilarious. He picks up on everything I say and then repeats my exact phrases in perfect comedic timing. Here is an example....My daughter Maia burps like a grown man. It is amazing how loud and grotesque her burps are. Whenever she lets out one of these monsters I say, "Well excuse you Maia." Yesterday on our way home from Bup's house Maia started doing her demon growl (I will try my best to get video of this). Noah thought it was a burp, so he followed her growl with an emphatic, "Scuse you Maia!" I couldn't help but giggle.

My son is also very strategic with the timing of his humor in sticky situations. Case and point: Ricky was punishing Noah for being naughty and was speaking to him very firmly while making Noah look him in the eye. When Ricky said, "Do you understand?" With a very serious face, Noah answered , "Noah farted." 

Perfect! My son is a genius. Ricky and I are working on preparing ourselves to outwit our child by keeping a straight face when all we want to do is laugh uncontrollably. Pray for us. 

I got an award! Thanks to my friend Bridget! 

This award comes with a few to-do's:

1.) Say one nice thing to the man in your life:

Thank you for being my prince charming and for taking care of me like I am your queen. I love how thoughtful you are. I love watching you with our babies. They are so lucky to have you as their daddy.

2.) List at least 6 ways you measure success in your life:

1.) Am I spending time with the Lord daily and am I striving to be more like Him?

2.) Am I treating my husband with respect and lifting him up daily?

3.) Am I being an example of Christ to my kids and showing them who Jesus is daily?

4.) Am I teaching my kids obedience and respect for others?

5.) Am I abiding in God's will, living to please Him and using my gifts for His glory?

6.) Am I serving others and taking care of "the least of these?" 

3.) Assign 5 other blogs this award

1.) Bup aka Pam 

2.) Sarah Neuenschwander

3.) Lizzy

4.) Kathryn

5.) Michelle 

Okay ladies, have fun! 

Quiet = Trouble

I just bought a new bottle of baby shampoo but it's gone now. I was giving the kids their bath and when I was done washing Maia, I took her to her room to get her dried off and ready for bed. (Disclaimer: We've already established that CPS has many reasons to pay me a visit and this is going to be one more to add to their list.) I leave Noah in the bath and I continue to call to him and have him answer me so that I know that he is still breathing while I get Maia dressed. Usually he splashes and makes a really huge mess because I am not in the room to stop him. I always end up yelling at him from the adjacent room to stop until I am hoarse. By the time I go get him, my bathroom looks like a Tsunami hit it. Today, the routine was broken. Noah was very quiet while I was in the other room getting Maia ready for bed. Whenever I would call to him his response was delayed and when I asked him what he was doing he said, "Noah's washing his body." He must have watched me wash Maia with the wash cloth and decided to wash himself. Again, he got quiet and I tried my best to hurry with Maia and I called to him again. He gave me the same washing his body response. I zipped Maia's jammies and ran into the bathroom. The lack of splashing was freaking me out. The aroma in the bathroom was very strong but it was a lovely familiar smell...baby shampoo. I looked down into the tub and it was brimming with soap suds. My son was pouring the last drops of shampoo in between his toes and saying "Look mommy. Noah wash his body!" Great! I've always heard that when you have kids silence = trouble...so true...

First Impressions...

So tonight we went out to dinner with our friend Steve and his girlfriend Molly. It was my first time actually meeting Molly in person (I know her via Facebook and blogging) and I was really excited. I was a nervous because we'd be taking the babies out with us which was bad for three reasons: 1. Kids and dining out do not usually equal a pleasant experience 2. Steve and Molly are college students who do not have kids 3. My kids didn't take their normal naps today and were a little on the cranky side. 

  Needless to say, I made a miserable first impression on my new friend Molly. My son who is normally extremely smart asked Molly a thousand times who she was by pointing at her and saying "What's that?" And, even after she told him her name was Molly for the 1001 time, he kept calling her Natalya and saying "Natalya went in other room." Then Maia decided to make demon growling noises throughout dinner and periodically scream at the top of her lungs. We finally decided to put our dining experience to an end after Noah fell behind the bar stools and yelled and cried so loud that the entire restaurant thought my kid needed an ambulance. I rescued him, ignored peoples' stares, and we headed out for a walk with our friends. My son decided to be defiant almost the entire walk and my threats at leaving him there all by himself accomplished nothing so I had to carry  him the whole way back to the car.  But, the culminating moment which sealed the deal of the worst first impression ever was when we were saying our good-byes to Molly and Steve in the parking lot. Ricky was holding Maia and talking to Steve when all of a sudden a stream of warm liquid begins leaking from Maia's diaper onto Ricky's arm and down to the asphalt. Ricky lets them know that we really have to go NOW. We say good bye and Ricky carries Maia to our truck at arms length as if she has a disease while pee drips from her legs. 

 I will not be surprised if I never hear from them again...

A Few Confessions From This Week...

I had to go pee REALLY bad one day. I was holding Maia at the time and ran to  the bathroom with her and didn't even take the time to put her down. I held her in my lap while I went pee. My bladder is not what it used to be prior to my two babies. 

While in the midst of reprimanding Noah for spitting (he does it because Maia does it) he looked at me and said "Oh my gosh! Noah NO spit!" I burst out laughing right in front of him. Needless to say the teaching moment was lost and now my son thinks that all he has to do is make me laugh when he gets in trouble. I am working on keeping a straight face. 

I found a tupperware full of leftovers from a meal from over a month ago. I was too chicken to open it and vomit from the smell and green stuff growing in the dish and have to wash it. I just threw it away. The worst part of it is, it wasn't my tupperware. It was my mother-in-law's. Sorry Terri! 

My Cuties...

So, my plan was to post like 5 or 6 recent pictures of my kids but for some reason blogspot does not like to upload my photos and so after 3 days of trying, I give up. Here is 1 picture of my cuties! Noah loves his "cart." If he could live in it, he would. But, I won't let him. He recently realized that it is really fun to put Maia in the driver seat a push her really fast down the alley way nearly giving me a heart attack every time! Gotta love boys! 

I Just Can't Do It All

I am not one of those mommies who always looks presentable, shaves on a regular basis, and has her fingers and toes nicely painted all the time. I have 2 babies 13 months apart and I work part time. This translates into 0 time for self-maintenance. I know there are some of you out there who manage to do all and maintain yourselves nicely...I am not that talented. We have established this before, I am Frump Girl. Now that I have explained all this, the above picture should be self-explanatory. However, my boss has not yet discovered this about me. Yesterday, since it was like 90 degrees, I decided to wear open-toed shoes to work despite the sad state of my toe nails. I figured no one would notice and even if they did, they'd sympathize with me being a mother of two and understand that I do not have time to get my toes done so they would not call attention to the disaster that is my feet. Well, I had almost made it to the end of the day when on my way out of my boss's office he said, "Hey, what's that on your feet?" Quick put some socks on and hide your feet...Oh crap! There's no time for that! "Ummm, just my chipped nail polish." He and the other lady who was walking down the hall way at the same time stopped to take a closer look at my hideous un-pedicured toes. Great! Why did I think it was safe to wear open-toed shoes?!" He told me that he thought I had some crazy designs on my toes nails but I assured him that it was just 3 month old chipped nail polish!...Note to self: Even if it is 120 degrees outside, if your toes are not presentable wear close toed shoes to work.

Why Don't They Just Disappear?

Here is the mess that remains in my kitchen after last night. I didn't have the energy to clean up last night even though my husband cooked dinner. I thought maybe if I just went to bed without cleaning the kitchen, the cleaning fairy would visit over night and I'd wake up to a clean kitchen...no such luck. She must not like me very much. Now instead of doing dishes before I head off to work, I am blogging about it!!! Blogging is so much more fun than cleaning! 

Anybody Want Left overs?

I must say that I have the most wonderful husband in the world. Yesterday, he knew that I had a long day at work and when I got home, dinner was waiting for me at the table. It was so nice to get home and not have to cook. However there seems to always be one little problem when my husband cooks...it's not the taste of the food...it's the amount of food he makes. I think he plans to feed an army when he cooks. He doesn't realize that he only needs to make enough for 2 1/2 people to eat.  Here is what was left over after last night's dinner.

Professional

I must say that I impressed myself today. I think that I can now call myself a professional! A professional what? I am not sure what to call it...how about a professional efficient wipey user. Today, Ricky took Noah with him to run errands so it was just Maia and I. When she woke up from her nap, my nose let me know that she needed to be changed. There was a little problem however...no wipes. How was I supposed to change my daughter with no wipes. I looked all over the place and found one lone wipey behind the changing table. I noticed that it hadn't been used. It must have been one that I pulled out and ended up not needing. It would have to do. I wet it with some warm water since it was dry and went to work. I completed the job using only that one wipe and managed to keep nine of my ten fingers clean as well. Not bad huh? I think I might have just graduated out of the Rookie Mom stage! 

You're So Vain, I Bet You Think The Internet's About You...

This photo shoot thing has gone to my head. I used to log on to Facebook to see if anyone had sent me messages and to see what my friends had been up to. Since the fairy tale photo shoot on Saturday, I have been logging on to Facebook every 5 minutes or so to see pictures of...well...myself. Sheesh that sounds so terrible, but I just want to remind you that this is a CONFESSION blog where I must confess all...okay not all...almost all! Anyways, there were quite a few photographers there that day and they have all been posting their pictures on Facebook at different times. Naturally I want to see what I look like in pictures that were taken of me. Wouldn't you? Can you tell that I am now justifying my vanity? Anyways, I am confessing my obsession with looking at pictures of myself on the internet, so if you don't get an email answered or I don't answer my phone or CPS comes for my kids, it is because I am stuck on Facebook looking at myself.

I Could Get Used to This...

Today, I was asked to be a model for a photo shoot entitled "Dark Faery Tales." It was like a big production with hair and make-up, costumes, 10 to 15 models and like 15 photographers. I woke up early said bye to the hubby and the kids and headed out to be a model for the morning. I got my hair and make-up done, put on a ball gown and was transformed into Cinderella. It was absolutely amazing! As I was squatting in a tree trying to ignore the cramp in my thigh being told to turn my shoulders to the right, put my chin down and to the left, look down, and smile but not too big by 10 different photographers, I found myself thinking, "I could get used to this!" There were no diapers to change, mouths to feed, or multi-tasking to do. I don't remember the last time I was not multi-tasking. I multi-task in my sleep! All I had to do was sit in that tree and look decent for the cameras after being made-over by a couple of professionals. 

  I think Psychologists should start recommending this as therapy for stressed out and worn out mothers of small children!  

Hopefully I will be able to post a picture soon...

Life's Simplest Tasks...Not So Simple

Today, the cleaning ladies came and I decided that it would be a good time to run some errands. The only problem is that simple errands become quite difficult when hauling two babies around with you. I can't just jump out of the car for a quick ATM stop, or run in real quick to return a pair of jeans, or make a grocery run in 15 minutes or less. Instead, my decision to park in the 15 minute parking slot at the bank almost resulted in a ticket, my quick jean return was anything but quick, and my trip to Costco which should have taken 20 minutes turned into an hour. 

  First of all, I know you may be asking why wouldn't I just use one of those convenient drive-up ATM thingys...well if you have been reading this thing long enough you know that I don't really do drive-thrus because of Big Mama. I'd most likely end up taking the ATM machine out and ruining my truck so I opted for the walk up ATM. I parked in the 15 minute slot and sat for a few minutes strategizing on how to get both kids out of the car the quickest way possible. I chose the Baby Bjorn and hand holding. I found the Bjorn stuffed under the back seat, unfolded it, adorned myself with it, unbuckled Maia Belle, and strapped her onto my abdomen. One kid down one to go...I have 7 minutes left in this spot. I waddled to the other side and attempted to get Noah out without bumping his head against Maia's head and without breaking my back...I was carrying about 47 pounds of kids at once. Then I got my purse out of the front seat, triple checked to make sure I had my keys, and then locked the door. We walk up to the ATM and I dig through my purse for about 3 minutes looking for my wallet which contains my card as Noah pushes all the buttons on the machine. I find my card and put it in. Then, the machine threatened to lock my account because Noah kept pushing the wrong buttons. I decided to go inside. Of course Noah doesn't want to go inside because making the buttons beep is much more fun and since mommy's machine wasn't working anymore, he decided to join the guy at the machine next to us. I apologized profusely, grabbed my child, and nearly knocked the man over with the kid strapped to my belly and went inside. While at the window inside, I was distracted by Noah using my toes as a stepping stool to see the buttons on the machine on the counter and by Maia grabbing for the pen. When, the lady asked me how she could help me I accidentally told her I wanted to withdrawal $700.00. When I realized my mistake, I screamed "NOOOO!" She shot a quick glance over to the security guard and I quickly explained that I had made a mistake and that I did not need to withdrawal that amount of money (I don't think I have that amount of money in my account to withdrawal). While I am explaining my mistake, I turn to look for Noah because I realized that the pain of Noah's weight on my feet had disappeared. I find him attempting to make an escape behind an unsuspecting customer. I run over to get him as Maia's head bobs like a bobble-head doll and the people in the bank look at me like I'm a crazy woman. I finish my transaction, put my card back in  my purse, grab Noah's hand and head out the door. It has now been a total of 25 minutes. When we get to the car, I search like a mad woman for my keys in my abyss of a purse. I do this about 20 times a day and I probably spend a total of an hour and a half a day total on just this one simple task. I finally find them and pull them out along with a handful of trash, unlock the door and once again lift Noah into his car seat while trying to keep his head from hitting Maia's head and ignoring the intense pain in my back. As I am buckling Noah in his seat, I notice that Maia has the bank receipt in her hands...it is soaking wet and half of it is missing. I conduct a fast finger search of her mouth but cannot find the missing half...I guess I will look forward to finding it in her poop. I finally got Maia in her seat, relieved myself of the Baby Bjorn, popped a few IBU Profin pills for the extreme pain shooting down my shoulders and back, and pulled out of the parking space 40 minutes after arriving. Thank God the parking police were not working at 9:00 in the morning. One simple and quick errand down and two to go...I'll spare you the details of the other two...you get the picture.

Dear Mid-Life Crisis Man Letter #147

Dear Mid-Life Crisis Man,

  One of these days, I will actually give one of these letters to you, but until then I am going "vent" to my blog friends about you in a pretend letter (notice how I have violated two Confession Mama goals in one post!). 

  It is 9:19 p.m. and my husband just left to go for a bike ride to blow off steam thanks to you. I know that you are still unemployed after 2 years of living next door to us and that you have nothing better to do than play Guitar Hero all day long with your kids, but might I again remind you that you are in your late 40s and must grow up and get a job sometime; not only for your own good but for the sanity of your neighbors. If you must continue to be unemployed, is it possible to play Guitar Hero at a reasonable volume, you know a volume that does not cause our floor to rumble because of the intense bass coming from your house or our pictures on our shared wall to fall down? You see my husband and I, who have returned from a hard day's work (which you know nothing about) would like to sit down with our kids for a peaceful family dinner in our living room without having to hear the incessant loud noise coming through our wall. I appreciate you answering the door, after the 10th time my husband knocked with your guitar in hand to hear what he had to say. However, you failed to turn down the volume like you said you would and I am now sitting on my couch rocking back and forth and biting my nails because I am on the verge of losing my mind. I find myself waiting for you to take a bathroom break so I can bask 2 minutes of silence. My husband has handled it differently; he was about to punch a hole in the wall, so he went for a bike ride to cool down. All I am asking is for you to turn the volume down...oh and get a job...oh and get a minivan...oh and stop getting wasted with your teenage kids and yelling at the top of your lungs in the middle of the night...oh and stop leaving your cigarette butts in front of our garage for my son to pick up. It's just a few simple requests...our sanity depends on it. 

Sincerely,

Your Friendly Wall Sharer 

P.S. If you fail to turn down the volume, do not be surprised if your t.v. and your play station and your guitar are in a million little pieces in the morning...like I said I am on the verge of insanity!!! 

What Am I Teaching My Kid?

Having a precocious 1 and 1/2 year old makes life very entertaining and...well...confusing at times. Noah has been having these bratty moments lately where he refuses to say good bye to his grandparents and gets all whiny and tells them "No" when they ask for a kiss good-bye. After one of these moments involving Bup and Guck, I decided to have a heart- to- heart with my son. I was so embarrassed and frankly I was sick of his rude and whiny behavior. 

Me: "Noah, that was very rude! When Bup and Guck ask you for a kiss good-bye, you do not say 'no.' You need to be nice and give Bup and Guck a kiss. You need to stop saying "no" to people when they want to say good-bye to you. Do you understand what Mama is saying?"

Noah: "Yes. Noah give Bup kiss."

I figured he understood because he repeated the same phrase a million times over the past couple of weeks. Then today, when he was leaving Bup and Guck's house, they asked for a good-bye kiss as usual and Noah looked at me and said, "Noah, no say no to peoples. Give Bup kiss." And he proceeded to lend his cheek for a kiss. Then I thought, Oh shoot! Did I really just teach my kid not to say NO to ALL people? What if some weirdo comes and asks him for a good-bye kiss? Oh crap! How do I undo this? 

I will need to think through my phrasing from now on. And I am going to have what is sure to be an interesting conversation with my 21 month old son on how it is okay to say NO to strangers but not to his family...this should be hilarious!!!! 

Just Another Reason for CPS to Come Visit

On the way home from church today Noah was drinking his milk, but stopped after a few sips. This is very abnormal for my son. He guzzles milk like it's going out of style so I asked him why he didn't want his milk. He scrunched his face, pointed to his teeth and said "Noah's teese hurt." Translation, "Mom, because you can't remember to brush my teeth even though I ask to brush them like fifteen times a day, I am sure all of my teeth are rotting before your very eyes and I am in pain." Ay yaiy yaiy! The poor kid. Hopefully that will be motivation for me to remember to brush his teeth more often.  

Is It Really That Bad to Quit on the Third Day?

I am starting to question my goal of running a triathlon. Did I mention that I made it a goal for Ricky as well? Yup, I am very good at making goals for other people. If you ever need a goal maker, I am your woman! Anyways, yesterday we started our training. We hooked the kids' trailer up to the bike and went for a bike ride in the freezing cold weather. Our hands and faces were frozen by the time we were done with our ride, but I was so proud of us for getting up and starting our training. This morning, I got everyone up and fed and dressed and announced that we'd be going for a run. I wanted to start off small so we'd only be running for a mile and a half and then walking for a mile and a half. Ricky was not thrilled but I served as a great and somewhat annoying motivator! I threw on my tennis shoes and packed the kids in the trailer/ jogging stroller and off we went. 

 I knew I was in trouble as soon as we started. I realized that the last time I had worked out was over two years ago and I am not as young as I used to be. The first sign of my not-so-youngness was feeling the jiggle in my rear end with every stride. I have never experienced this before and it was real uncomfortable and extremely motivating for the first block or so. After, the first block, the jiggling behind me was outdone by the burning sensation in my chest and the lack of oxygen in my lungs. All I wanted to do was collapse on the street and call 911. My husband who was a few yards ahead of me kept shouting words of encouragement to me while I gasped for air and grabbed my side to try to ease the cramp that had taken hold of my insides. I pushed myself all the way to the mile and half mark as Noah screamed "There's Mama!" (He couldn't see me the entire time because I was so far behind him!) I think I might have scared him with my gagging and gasping. Then, Ricky, the one who I had to push out the door to do this run, thought it would be fun to push ourselves to run another quarter mile. I said "NO!" He said, "How are we supposed to run a triathlon in a few months if we can't even push ourselves for another half mile now?" Sometimes, I wonder why I even make goals for people. They get all motivated and then it backfires on me. Well, he convinced me and I ran for another quarter of a mile gagged some more, saw stars, nearly passed out, and nearly killed my husband...let's just say it was a good thing my children were present or it might have gotten ugly. 

  After all that I am alive and well and feel like I could just sleep all day. I really hope that I can continue with this training and that my the jiggling, burning, cramping, and gagging all come to an end as I get in shape!  

A Cute Noah Story

I have been trying my best to teach Noah to be considerate of others. A couple of weeks ago when we went out to eat for dinner, he decided to scream at ear-piercing decibels at the table. I put my face really close to his and firmly told him to stop. Then, I told him to look around the restaurant at all the people eating dinner. I let him know that those people wanted to enjoy their dinner without his screaming and that it was rude of him not to be considerate of them.  I know that he is only 1 and 1/2 and that he doesn't understand everything but I try to explain things to him anyways. 

  Today we went out to eat for lunch and once Noah was in his high chair, he looked at me and said, "Noah, no scream, because there's peoples." I was so proud of him and I realized that a lot of times we underestimate our kids and what they can understand. He went through the entire meal without screaming!