Category Archives: Me

Awesome Mom

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Last night I had just gotten done with a long day of work. It was late and I was tired and hungry. I drove home with a liberal interpretation of the speed limit.

I pulled in to the driveway and noticed the van was gone. Hmm. I wonder where everyone went. The lights were off and there was no sign anyone had been home for at least a couple hours. I was just opening the door when I remembered my husband had a rehearsal that night and the kids were with a babysitter. 30 minutes away. In the town I just drove away from as quickly as possible to get home to the kids. Oh, crap.

Did I mention I had arranged the babysitting just that morning?

I need a vacation.

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Morning People

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My daughter is a morning person. I am….not so much a morning person.

Let’s put it this way: I sleep like a bear hibernates. I like long uninterrupted sessions of sleep and I have been known to eat tourists who get too close.

Foodie is getting dangerously close to becoming a tourist.

Here is how my morning goes:

Sometime after midnight but before 5:30AM, Foodie wakes up. She recently learned how to use door knobs so, she helpfully releases herself from her room and pads down to my room where I am still hoping for at least another 2 hours of hibernation.

Foodie bypasses Daddy completely (UNFAIR!) and wanders over to my side of the bed with whatever she’s dragged with her. Sometimes it’s a blanket. Sometimes it’s clothing, a Wii controller, or a diaper. Every once in a while it’s a brother. She then stands right next to my face breathing and waiting.

The “Oh Lord, someone is staring at me” feeling is usually enough to wake me up in a sudden panic with Foodie staring wide-eyed, inches from my face. If that doesn’t work, Foodie will start a time-honored toddler tradition.

“Mama. Mam. Mama. Wake-a up! MAMA! MAMMAAAA!”

Rinse and repeat until I groggily toss Foodie in to the bed and snuggle her between me and Daddy.

This will keep her happy for about 20 seconds. But, then she wants to start roaming around the bed and playing hide and seek in the covers. If all that commotion fails to produce an upright parent willing to make her some breakfast, she will go back upstairs and wake up her brothers using, what I can only assume, are the same methods she used on me. They work better on the twins.

Then there’s no way anyone’s sleeping anymore.

All this before 6:00AM. And people wonder why I dream of a coffee IV…

Weather Confusion

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A few days ago I fought Rain Man tooth and nail to keep him from wearing his favorite fuzzy jacket outside to play. It was a humid 85* and that child would have roasted.

The next day I begged him to put his coat on because the temperature had sunk to a (comparatively) bone-chilling 39*.

He absolutely lost it over this example of clothing double standards. He gave me a look of pure betrayal when I offered him the coat that I had unceremoniously wrenched from him the day before.

Michigan weather is causing my child to have epic tantrums about clothing. He doesn’t know from one day to the next if or when he will be allowed to wear his favorite sweater and/or his Thomas shorts.

I think Mother Nature is actually a Grandmother. She is enjoying watching the payback of fit-throwing children. I must have been awful about dressing for the weather as a child. That’s my only explanation for this.

 

Mother of the Year

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Some days I think my kids actively try to make me look like the worst parent on the planet. And they are extremely gifted at doing so.

Last night I tried to take the whole kit and caboodle to an outdoor concert. My husband plays in the band so, I figured the kids would get a kick out of seeing Daddy with his horn. It was in a pleasant little park that attracts every person over the age of 70 in the county. Good times!

I thought I was so prepared. I had blankets to sit on, juice boxes, snack bags of cereal, bananas, and a couple quiet toys. We got there and the kids put out their blankets and tucked in to the snacks.

5 minutes later, the snacks are gone and it’s still about 20 minutes until the start of the concert. I wasn’t concerned yet because I had this dream that they would run around, wear each other out and then plop on the blankets for the start of the concert. I clearly forgot that all this “It’s summer! Go outside and play!” garbage I have been spewing has given them some wicked stamina.

The concert is about to start. Foodie is shouting greetings to her father, Cereal Killer and Rain Man are rolling around in the blankets, wrestling, and jumping off of the park benches. I am pretending I don’t notice 150 elderly people giving me the stink eye. And, of course it’s made 100 times worse because the only other little kids there are like freakishly well-behaved. Compare and contrast. Ug.

It only got worse from there. Cereal Killer was like a human tornado with his constant movement. He was banging rocks against the flag pole, trying to rip leaves off trees, attempting to sneak on to the stage with the band. (Those timpani looked mighty tempting…) If cave men were given crystal meth, I imagine they would have behaved similarly to Cereal Killer.

Rain Man was slightly, slightly more well-behaved. He was more like a stoned cave man. He was begging for snacks and running around aimlessly while giggling. He runs like a Great Dane which is pretty funny and cute….when it isn’t happening right in front of the bandstand.

Foodie, while excessively cute, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She kept creeping up to the stage, sitting on it, and then getting a sneaky look on her face. I never found out what that look was going to turn in to because I would army crawl to the stage and smuggle her back to our bench before she could follow through with her master plan. I suspect it involved offing the conductor and then leading the band for the rest of the concert herself but, the world will never know for sure. Eventually she tired of having her plans foiled so, she left.

She just got up and started running down the sidewalk.

That kid is joining the track team because she is fast. By the time I caught her, she had traveled an entire block and was merrily trotting across the street. That was IT for me. I gathered her up and threw her in the car. The twins saw how close they were to being donated to charity so they wisely followed along and joined Foodie in the backseat.

We spent the next 30 minutes listening to the music, muffled through the car windows. I was less than impressed.

When the concert was over, I had to do the walk of shame to pick up our blankets and toys. The band members wouldn’t look at me, the old people insisted on looking at me, and the priest sitting behind me was just shaking his head.

So, one can safely assume I will no longer be bringing the children to concerts. Unless we are all allowed to be sedated. Myself definitely included.

Nursing Musings

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Sometimes when I am stuck on the couch nursing Foodie, the remote is too far away for me to turn on something mind-numbing and my book….Oh, who am I kidding. I have children. It’s been so long since I read a book for pleasure, I am not even sure I am literate anymore.  So, the TV is off, the kid obviously has her mouth full and isn’t much of a conversationalist anyway, so I start thinking random thoughts. And this is one of them:

So, I read (code word for “saw a Discovery Channel special”) this thing about how bamboo is stronger than steel and that we should probably make stuff from it because, it’s friggin’ stronger than steel. And it’s earthquake-proof. And it looks very zen.

But.

What about the pandas? First, what if the pandas came and tried to eat your house because they are all, “Hey, that looks delicious!” and you’re all, “No! That’s my freaking house! Do you know how much of your habitat I had to destroy to build this?! It’s French Colonial, you dirty wood bear!”

That would pretty much suck for everyone.

And then I realized something. If bamboo is stronger than steel, panda teeth must be stronger than that so if you want to be invincible, you need to make yourself a suit of armor from panda teeth. There are some drawbacks to such an epic suit of armor, though. There is a strong possibility you will lose a finger or seven in the process of extracting panda teeth. Pandas hate the nitrous oxide masks so, you’re going to have to go all Little Shop of Horrors crazy dentist to get those teeth.

But once you get them, look out world. You’ll be unstoppable. Until someone realizes the stainless steel drill you used to get those panda teeth is stronger and…WAIT.

PARADOX. CRAP.

And then Foodie was done nursing so I turned Toy Story and went and did some laundry.

The end!

I’m Not Crazy, I’m a Mom

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I just realized today that I do a lot of things that, were I not a mother, might seem a little nuts. Like, there is a strong possibility someone might choose to institutionalize me.

I smell my food and check it thoroughly before consuming it. On Thursday I found a chocolate chip cookie that one of my kids PEED on. Never, ever, ever use the 5 Second Rule in my house unless you are 100% sure there is no urine present.

I clean my bathroom like I have OCD. Have you ever seen a 4 year old boy use the toilet? Well, they have the belief that their penis is a firehose. It’s fun to see if they can put out the fire. “The fire” is the back of the toilet, the hand towel, the bath tub, my toothbrush, the bath mat, and sometimes their sister. I am all for using “green”, earth friendly cleaners but in my bathroom I need BLEACH. Lots and lots of bleach.

I do the same things over and over again and expect different results each time. Case in point: Put your clothes in the hamper. Put your clothes in the hamper. Put your clothes in the hamper…

I am 28, but I watch Toy Story 3 at least twice a week. Even if the kids are in bed. It’s force of habit. Honestly.

If my house is quiet, I freak out. The children are clearly in to something and I need to figure out what it is NOW. I tear through the house in a panic… to find three children building train tracks. I look insane, but I am satisfied with the knowledge that were they drawing on the walls, I would have…still been too late.

The Coolest Mother’s Day Cards Ever

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The twins’ preschool teachers helped them make Mother’s Day cards this week and they are pretty much the best things I have ever seen. The teachers asked them questions about me and turned it in to a little “about my mom” section on the back of the card. It’s hysterical.

Here is what Rain Man wrote plus some commentary:

My mom’s name is Tina.  Correct.

She is 23 years old.  Not correct.

She has brown hair and brown eyes.  Pretty much, though grey is starting to dominate…

Her favorite food is rice, like me.  I am seeing the thought process here.

She likes to watch our shows on TV.  Yes. I love to sit down to a nice bowl of rice and a Thomas the Train movie.

Her best friend is my Dad, Cereal Killer, my sister, and me.  That’s adorable.

If she could, she’d like to go on a vacation across the bridge and take her car.  He is obsessed with the Mackinac Bridge right now.

My mom is beautiful. She looks especially pretty when she wears a princess dress.  When the heck have I worn a princess dress? I need one…

My mom can clean and bake better than anyone else in the world. Gender stereotypes, what what.

I love my mom because she hugs me.  And I melt.

And now for Cereal Killer’s card:

My mom’s name is Tina. Good call.

She is 14 years old.  …What?

She has blue eyes and brown hair. Seriously, man? 

Her favorite food is carrots and dip. Again, that’s his favorite food. 

She likes to watch the news on TV. To be fair, I don’t really watch Dexter in front of the kids (no, really?!) so, it’s a good guess.

Her best friend is Grandma. I do love my mama…

If she could, she’d like to go on a vacation to a pool and take swimming shorts. So, my son would like to go swimming. Got it. :)

My mom is beautiful. She looks especially pretty when she wears a dress. I live in sweatpants. I think they are hinting that I should clean up my wardrobe some…

My mom can blow a horn better than anyone else in the world. Cute, but their daddy is a far better musician than I am. Haha!

It I could, I’d like to buy her a hammer. So I could hammer in the morning?

I love my mom because she gives me food that I like. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. We now have scientific proof.

I love those guys.

First 5K of the Year!

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I look like a lost hippie. And check out my lopsided hair. Nice.

Today was the local YMCA’s “fun run”. A “fun run” is code for a bunch of hyper-competitive super runners, a few folks who are actually doing it for fun, and me. I fall in to the “I wish I would have been a runner in high school but I wasn’t so I have no practical running knowledge and don’t go really fast but it helped take off the baby weight so get off my back about it” category.

I was originally intending to start out running season with the 10K race, but one of my so-called friends gave me a cold. That virus originated in the 6th layer of hell. I was a crabby, tired snot machine for the better part of two weeks. The two weeks immediately preceding the race. Since I didn’t want to fall over and die after the race (I have kids to take to swim lessons, people. Death isn’t an option!) I opted to run the 5K.

It was cold, snowy, and sloppy on the road but I have got to admit that it was a ton of fun. I surprised myself and ran my fastest race ever and came in 10th in my age class. (That’s a Joe Biden moment again, peeps. The 20-29 age class is full of skinny college girls who can outrun me whilst in a coma. So the fact that I was not last was a BFD.)

And I got the kids to their swim lessons on time. And I baked 2 cakes.

Okay, while that is true, it makes me sound like some kind of semi-athletic Stepford Wife. To be more realistic, the cakes were made from mixes and I had my indentured servants children decorate them. And they did an AWESOME job.

The next Ace of Cakes is clearly in my family.

Happy Easter, everyone!