Kindergarten Time

I just tucked Connor into bed for the last time as a non-school aged child. Ever. It is crazy to think about. Most of my friends are weepy and sad that their little one is all grown up but I am not. No. I am happy and excited and relieved. Despite our biggest fears, Chris and I have managed to raise a child to school age without permanently damaging him...with the exception of a few scars and a slightly irrational fear of watching Sponge Bob. We didn't suffocate him by letting him sleep on his stomach at six months old. We didn't drown him by looking away for three seconds while giving him a bath. We didn't lose him at the mall. We didn't even break his neck by letting him jump on a trampoline!! It is amazing! Not only is he in one piece, but he is sweet, smart, funny and loving. He tells people tidbits that he finds interesting. He comforts friends when they are sad. He crack jokes that are way too mature for him to understand. He has never met a stranger. He is awesome.

So I am not sad that he is starting Kindergarten in the morning. I am happy and so proud of my little man and I can't wait to see what he has up his sleeve next.

Our Recent Happenings

Charlie showing me that his teeth are already clean so he therefore does not need to brush them. 

Tell me how you REALLY feel about it Charlie. 

The stains that haunt my nightmares. How do you clean this?!?!

Charlie's new favorite trick is locking Connor and me out of the house and then taunting us. 

They take dinner time water safety very seriously. 

The potty training dance. 

Connor back from his first weekend camping trip with Dad. Bruised, battered and dirty. 

Charlie loved his new under roos

But first, let Connor take a selfie

Long Time No Post

At one point I was writing several blog posts each week. Then I went down to one. Now I am having trouble coming up with just that. I have always used this blog to turn my frustrations into humor. It helps me not take everything so seriously. The problem right now is that I am struggling to find the humor. No matter how hard I try, I cannot turn difficult days into laughs. 

I know that I have a great life. I am privileged and spoiled. I honestly believe that no matter how fortunate your situation, everyone falls into what I call "the funk." For me, my life's emotions are somewhat of a cycle. There is contentment with occasional bursts of extreme happiness. Then the irritations become a little harder to deal with and the sublime moments are fewer. Then comes the just make it thru the day period and then...the funk.  I have always been able to slap myself out of the funk after a period of time, sometimes with the help of others and sometimes by my own realization that life is not always champagne and roses and that I need to make the best out of things. 

I have been trying to dig my way out of this funk for longer than usual. The thing that keeps pulling me down is...well...my children. My fuse is getting shorter and shorter with them and I feel like their behavior continues to get worse. And since I am in the funk I don't have the determination to straighten them out. Instead I want them to just leave me alone and figure out how to be civilized humans on their own. 

I know this is ridiculous and unrealistic. But it is how I feel. My prayers right now are almost always "God, please show me how to be the mother that these boys need. Give me patience, kindness, steadfastness. Help me control my temper and help me find an outlet for my frustration. Help me get out of the funk."

I don't expect to be happy all the time. I don't think anyone's life is like that. I want for my contenent phases to be longer and to have more bursts of bliss. I want the rest of my emotional cycle to be shorter and I want to deal with it in a more constructive way. 

I hope I start finding the humor again soon. 

Toddler Village Inc.

About three months into motherhood I began planning and designing my genius business idea,  Toddler Village Inc. I have added thoughts and features as the years have passed by and this weekend I think I may have perfected it. You see, this weekend I decided to start potty training Charlie. This means having a naked tazmanian devil peeing on things.

Toddler Village Inc. is housing communities scattered throughout the country designed specifically for families with small children. The homes can be rented long term. The idea is that you live in these homes while your children are in their grossest, messiest, most cleaning intensive years.

Each house is child proof. I don't mean outlet covers child proof, I mean indestructible child proof. The house is fully furnished and stocked and nothing can be moved no matter how hard you Hulk Smash into it. Every room is soundproof (but you can turn the soundproofing off with the flip of a switch in case you are one of those crazy people who likes to hear what your children are doing.) This is a home where Connor and Charles Bass could live for three years and not break anything expensive, not drive me bonkers with noise and not stain anything. I'm telling you it is genius.

Most rooms are completely stainless steel with a slightly inclined floor with a large (but not large enough to fit a child) drain in the middle. Optional water tight wall padding is available for those with more “spirited” children aka me. There is no porous surface on the entire property. Anything electronic is bolted down and enclosed in bullet proof glass. The ceiling of each room is equipped with two sprinkler systems. One sprays straight bleach and the other pure water. At night, you shut the door to each room, flip a switch and the magic house goes to work. First bleach is sprayed on everything including the furniture because remember, even the cushioned surfaces are not porous. They are covered in vinyl...think high school wrestling mat. After everything is sufficiently disinfected the water sprinklers wash everything off. All the nastiness of the day is washed down the floor drain and gone from your life forever.

The yards have sprayers that dispense bug spray and sunscreen onto your children automatically. There are no trees to climb on (or fall off of), no flowerbeds to be destroyed and the grass is a natural looking but completely artificial turf.

Doesn't it sound like absolute bliss?

For an additional cost you can purchase the “Parent Getaway” package. This includes a secret entrance into the master bedroom with a fingerprint lock. There is a long passage from the door to the actual room so even if a child is banging on the door you cannot hear it. Since no children will be allowed to enter this room it has real linens, a plush mattress, a television that can be tilted and adjusted and comfy bath mats on the floor...since no one will pee on them.

I am ready for investors!

The Smile

Warning, this one is going to be a mushy one.  Believe it or not, I'm not a complete cynic all the time.

A great friend of mine is on a ski trip with her family in Utah right now.  She has a three-year-old daughter and a one-year-old daughter.  They are sweet and precious and wonderful but they are three years old and one year old.  And they are inquisitive, talkative, messy...you get the picture.  Their dad works odd hours and their momma is FRIED. She is a wonderful mother.  She loves her children.  But lately, there may have possibly been a couple of times where she felt a bit like her head was going to explode.

And packing and preparing two little girls for a ski trip and flying on a three hour plane ride with them does not help with the whole head exploding thing.  They made it to Utah in one piece and yesterday took their 3-year-old daughter to ride inner tubes down a hill.  My friends husband was filming their daughter as she was tubing for the first time.  She looked so happy.  She was smiling wide and giggling and at one point spread her arms out, leaned her head back and closed her eyes.  Her hair was flapping in the wind and there is no doubt that child was having a wonderful time.

But the piece of the video that really got to my heart was the two seconds when dad panned and caught a glimpse of my friends face watching her daughter.  My friend was having a wonderful time, just like her daughter but hers was different.  I froze the video on the frame of a loving mother smiling adoringly as her daughter experiences pure bliss.  I stared at that frozen frame for a long time.  I imagined that she was thinking how amazing her daughter is and how the time is flying by.  I imagined she was thinking about how happy it made her to see her daughter so happy.  I imagined she was thinking about what a miracle it is that she and her husband created this amazing child and how she could never imagine her life without that sweet girl. 

As mothers, there are ten million things a day that make us grumpy, tired, frustrated and worn out.  Many times these sweet moments fly right past us without our even noticing.  It is nice to catch one and see the beauty of a mothers face showing pure love.

Or...maybe she wasn't thinking any of that. Maybe she was just a little drunk and smirking. I mean, she is on "vacation" with a one year old and a three year old after all!!!!;)

The Inner Workings of The Sinuses/Thank You Shelley

Spring break should be renamed spring extra work. I always forget how much I rely on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Having those hours without the boys is essential to my sanity. I take it for granted and then spring "break" rolls around again and I am reminded just how much I love T/Th 9-2. 

And this year is no exception. It is only Wednesday and our week has been filled with yelling, crying, screaming and frustration...and that is just from me. 

These two maniacs will not stop fighting. Fighting over a toy, food, a piece of lint off the floor. It doesn't matter. If one of them has it, the other one wants it. I cannot leave them alone in a room without them physically attacking each other. It is halfway through the day and already we have had a nude wrestling match, a clogged toilet, unauthorized yogurt painting on the legs of my brand new barstools a disturbing neon green poop and ANOTHER object lodged in Charlies nose. 

About six weeks ago we had a fun little visit to the emergency room to have the pediatric ENT remove the Lego stud (little round one) from Charlie's nostril. Not fun. Not cheap. We have had numerous discussions about why it is not all right to put things in your nose. It has apparently not sunk in. Little man started screaming while eating his morning snack. "Ahhhhhhh my nose!!!!!"  I looked up his left nostril and sure enough there is a broken off piece of pretzel up there. "Sniff."  And it goes higher. 

Craaaaaaaaaap!  I picked him up and started to yell for Connor to put his shoes on. Dr. White here we come. Wait!!!  I suddenly remembered a tip my neighborhood friend Shelley had given me when I had told her about the Lego incident. Shelley has five children, four of them boys, and was a practicing surgeon before she decided to stay home with her litter. She MIGHT have some good advice. She told me to plug the other nostril and blow a CPR breath into his mouth. Sure enough that pretzel nugget came flying right out...onto my face. I wiped it off and put in onto the table. "Thank you momma," said Charlie as he promptly picked up the nose pretzel and ate it. 

Connor, who had been oblivious to the whole incident came casually strolling into the kitchen. "Hey mom, I just discovered I can lick my armpit!"

And this is my life. 

Laundry Woes

Our first night in Napa I was feeling nice and wine happy and decided that I wanted to ask Chris a million questions. About our marriage, his opinion of me, our family, my cooking...you know, really minor things that in NO way could cause any problems. He is a smart man and knows how to work his way around my traps most of the time.

What is your favorite thing about me? Your smile.

What is one thing you would change about me if you could? That you would be happier more often.

What is your favorite meal I cook? Everything, honey.

What housekeeping task do you think I am worst at? …...............Well. I wish you were not such a worthless piece of crap around the house and that you were not so sucky at laundry.

WHAT?!?!?! Ok, maybe he just said the single word “laundry” but I heard that sentence.

How DARE he complain about my laundry doing abilities! I mean, I had no problem keeping up with my own laundry before we were married. It is his and his messy little children's fault that I stink at it now. Maybe if he didn't change clothes all the time and his peanut butter eating, booger wiping, paint smearing little tazmanian devil sons didn't make such a mess I would still be on top of the laundry situation.

Does he REALIZE how much of a pain doing laundry actually is?! There is the pretreating, the soaking in Oxyclean (this is necessary for about 50 percent of my childrens clothes) the washing, the drying, the folding, the hanging AND the putting away. Uh...sooooo much work. For goodness sake...I am not a machine!

So maybe I have to dig through the dryer to find clothes for my boys some mornings. Ok, most mornings. And maybe we regularly wear socks that don't match. Perhaps once in a while I sniff pants to see which one smells the least nasty when I am dressing myself. At least our children are clothed. Except for any afternoon from3 pm on. I mean, who wears pants in the afternoon in their own house? Or before lunchtime? Come on!

Me...bad at laundry? Psssshhhhhh, what could he possibly be referring to?