When I was young, (back in the day) I thought I knew tired. I thought that tired and I were well acquainted from my many late nights spent with the internet. I had school and homework, extracurricular activities (boyfriend), important things to tend to (boyfriend), and a boyfriend (boyfriend). I had no idea what exhaustion was.
And now, five years, four moves, two point five kids and a dog, two deployments, innumerable mini-disasters (and a partridge in a pear tree) later, I am so tired that I've entered a whole new realm of exhaustion. A realm so powerful that it enables me to travel through time (that's to say nothing of the delirium and randomness that comes with complete and utter exhaustion). Or at least manipulate it at random (not at will though, unfortunately).
For instance, it's Friday now, but the last day I recall registering was... Wednesday(?). Time travel.
And also, I thought it may have been Saturday since time had managed to slow to a near stop. Time manipulation.
Basically, at any given time, it may be any given time. So, I'm going to hop in my Delorean (delirium) and go back! To the future!!
3.20.2010
Remember the Tostitos Commercial?
People thrive off of human interaction. It's at the core of our beings. It's why we have created this rapidly growing market of internet phenomena. It's amazing how you can stalk someone from across the country (I'm watching you). In roughly 2.5 seconds, half of the world can know exactly what one person thinks or has to say (or how someone's boyfriend totally broke up her by text).
But even with all of these ways of communicating, the one we crave most is the good, old-fashioned face-to-face chat. Chatty Cathy's unite! This is even more important to the Stay-At-Home Mom. She is a completely different creature (sounds like a National Geographic documentary). She spends her days speaking Toddlerese (Interpreters needed!!!) and conversing with such important figures as Elmo and Dora the Explorer. (If I have to tell Swiper one more time, he's going to time out.) That is why mothers love (and I mean love) playgroups.
We'll tell you it's for the kids because we all know that they need to interact with other kids their age to learn social skills and they need to play and work out all that energy. I'll let you in on a little secret though, while that may be true, it's a lie. We go to playgroup to talk to other moms. Really just other people who don't pee themselves (a lot of parenting has to do with the bathroom. It really is a crappy job. Get it?) It's even better when Playgroup Mom commiserates with you.
Have you seen those moms at the park who are laughing hysterically and causing a ruckus in the process? They're probably stay-at-home moms who are just thrilled to be out of the house. The conversations usually go something like this:
"So this morning my son yelled at my daughter because she stole his cup," said Mom No.1
"I know! Mine did too!" Mom No.2 offers.
"Don't you hate it when they do that?" Mom No. 1 asks.
Previously unknown Mom No. 3 interjects, "Wow, mine do that too!!!"
Raucous laughter ensues.
And that will be the highlight of all three mom's days.
Remember that Tostitos commercial where three moms are eating chips talking about how getting the kids together is so wonderful? Then it cuts to the kids and there are three infants in car seats. That sums it up quite well. (said Mom No. 1 in her blog so someone can read it in 2.5 seconds)
Chatty Cathy's invited to the park on my block for raucous laughter and cupcakes.
But even with all of these ways of communicating, the one we crave most is the good, old-fashioned face-to-face chat. Chatty Cathy's unite! This is even more important to the Stay-At-Home Mom. She is a completely different creature (sounds like a National Geographic documentary). She spends her days speaking Toddlerese (Interpreters needed!!!) and conversing with such important figures as Elmo and Dora the Explorer. (If I have to tell Swiper one more time, he's going to time out.) That is why mothers love (and I mean love) playgroups.
We'll tell you it's for the kids because we all know that they need to interact with other kids their age to learn social skills and they need to play and work out all that energy. I'll let you in on a little secret though, while that may be true, it's a lie. We go to playgroup to talk to other moms. Really just other people who don't pee themselves (a lot of parenting has to do with the bathroom. It really is a crappy job. Get it?) It's even better when Playgroup Mom commiserates with you.
Have you seen those moms at the park who are laughing hysterically and causing a ruckus in the process? They're probably stay-at-home moms who are just thrilled to be out of the house. The conversations usually go something like this:
"So this morning my son yelled at my daughter because she stole his cup," said Mom No.1
"I know! Mine did too!" Mom No.2 offers.
"Don't you hate it when they do that?" Mom No. 1 asks.
Previously unknown Mom No. 3 interjects, "Wow, mine do that too!!!"
Raucous laughter ensues.
And that will be the highlight of all three mom's days.
Remember that Tostitos commercial where three moms are eating chips talking about how getting the kids together is so wonderful? Then it cuts to the kids and there are three infants in car seats. That sums it up quite well. (said Mom No. 1 in her blog so someone can read it in 2.5 seconds)
Chatty Cathy's invited to the park on my block for raucous laughter and cupcakes.
3.15.2010
Kites Are Fickle Things
Kite flying has long been regarded as a very pleasurable leisure time activity. Kites can be flown by children and adults, a single person or a whole family. In the Disney film, Mary Poppins, George Banks broke through the monotony of his British life by flying a kite. Perhaps kites are magic. Or, maybe they're just ambitious.
We flew our first kite of the year yesterday. Transformers. With a tail. We went to the field where the old aircraft are displayed. Good idea right? Plenty of room to fly and run and good parking. It was going great! The one-year-old wonder was wandering through the field, Grandpa was being Kite Flyer Extraordinaire, the boy was his apprentice (or as much of an apprentice as any three-year-old can be), and (I didn't know it yet, but) I was to become a World Class Sprinter.
The Apprentice got the reins and it was going well. He'd run with it and bring it back. We took pictures and video and laughed at the... HOLY COW, it's getting away!!! With near lightning speed, I was off, kicking off my shoes in mid-stride (you just can't run in Crocs), running as fast as my out of shape, Mommy legs would carry me. I finally caught up to it on the other side of the green airplane. I was very proud of myself for catching a rogue kite (until I learned the truth).
The Truth- The kite string had gotten caught on the tail of Green Airplane and the kite had gone on to the wing (kites are ambitious) where it could go no farther and hit the ground (where I proudly caught up to it...).
The kite was pulled down... not the string.
"Maybe I should call somebody to come get it down," I suggested.
"We're right here, they'll throw us in the Brig," Grandpa wisely replied.
"Oh, it's sunday. Nothing's open anyway," I recalled.
As of now, there's still a yellow kite handle blowing in the wind off the tail of a C-123K aircraft...
I'm just waiting for the sirens.
We flew our first kite of the year yesterday. Transformers. With a tail. We went to the field where the old aircraft are displayed. Good idea right? Plenty of room to fly and run and good parking. It was going great! The one-year-old wonder was wandering through the field, Grandpa was being Kite Flyer Extraordinaire, the boy was his apprentice (or as much of an apprentice as any three-year-old can be), and (I didn't know it yet, but) I was to become a World Class Sprinter.
The Apprentice got the reins and it was going well. He'd run with it and bring it back. We took pictures and video and laughed at the... HOLY COW, it's getting away!!! With near lightning speed, I was off, kicking off my shoes in mid-stride (you just can't run in Crocs), running as fast as my out of shape, Mommy legs would carry me. I finally caught up to it on the other side of the green airplane. I was very proud of myself for catching a rogue kite (until I learned the truth).
The Truth- The kite string had gotten caught on the tail of Green Airplane and the kite had gone on to the wing (kites are ambitious) where it could go no farther and hit the ground (where I proudly caught up to it...).
The kite was pulled down... not the string.
"Maybe I should call somebody to come get it down," I suggested.
"We're right here, they'll throw us in the Brig," Grandpa wisely replied.
"Oh, it's sunday. Nothing's open anyway," I recalled.
As of now, there's still a yellow kite handle blowing in the wind off the tail of a C-123K aircraft...
I'm just waiting for the sirens.
3.12.2010
Give them a fish, they'll eat for a day. Teach them to fish and they'll run away
It's important to expose your children to nature. It's easy to do that in The Natural State. Arkansas boasts a roaring outdoor life (this article is in no way affiliated with the Arkansas Parks Department.) and a plethora of activities for the avid outdoorsman or even an over excited toddler spending time with his grandfather.
Today was the perfect day for fishing, if you're an adult. It was a little brisk for babies. However, the plan was to go fishing for the first time today, and we must not deviate from the plan. After loading up the car with provisions for every natural disaster ever known to take place and getting bait out of a vending machine, we set out for the lake.
I, myself did not have high expectations for this particular outing. In my mind, my son was grossed out by the worms, antsy and clumsy and fell in the water, while my daughter (who is a human garbage disposal) snacked on a few nice earthworms (they did come out of a vending machine) . So, getting a worm on a hook and the line in the water was already more than I had hoped for.
After about five minutes, he got his first bite. I know, five minutes! It takes me an hour to get anything! No luck, but the second bite was different.
I squealed and reached for the camera, taking many photos of exactly the same thing and of nothing of any consequence in my desire to document the entire occasion should anyone wish to relive it, the whole time, my son and my father were getting a fish out of the water and my daughter was thoroughly unamused. My son was beaming! Positively enraptured! Maybe the best moment of his whole life (all three years of it)!
"Caleb do you want to touch the fish?" we asked.
"Sure!" he said.
He put his hand on his wormy, squirmy rainbow trout and
"Eww!!! That's so gross! I gotta get out of here!" he said, and he ran away.
Someday when I touch my wormy, squirmy kids, I'm going to yell, "Eww!!! That's gross!! I gotta get out of here!" and run away...
Today was the perfect day for fishing, if you're an adult. It was a little brisk for babies. However, the plan was to go fishing for the first time today, and we must not deviate from the plan. After loading up the car with provisions for every natural disaster ever known to take place and getting bait out of a vending machine, we set out for the lake.
I, myself did not have high expectations for this particular outing. In my mind, my son was grossed out by the worms, antsy and clumsy and fell in the water, while my daughter (who is a human garbage disposal) snacked on a few nice earthworms (they did come out of a vending machine) . So, getting a worm on a hook and the line in the water was already more than I had hoped for.
After about five minutes, he got his first bite. I know, five minutes! It takes me an hour to get anything! No luck, but the second bite was different.
I squealed and reached for the camera, taking many photos of exactly the same thing and of nothing of any consequence in my desire to document the entire occasion should anyone wish to relive it, the whole time, my son and my father were getting a fish out of the water and my daughter was thoroughly unamused. My son was beaming! Positively enraptured! Maybe the best moment of his whole life (all three years of it)!
"Caleb do you want to touch the fish?" we asked.
"Sure!" he said.
He put his hand on his wormy, squirmy rainbow trout and
"Eww!!! That's so gross! I gotta get out of here!" he said, and he ran away.
Someday when I touch my wormy, squirmy kids, I'm going to yell, "Eww!!! That's gross!! I gotta get out of here!" and run away...
3.05.2010
The Perils of Laundry
Cleanliness is next to Godliness. If that's true, God's not been to my laundry room in quite some time. Of all my domestic duties, I despise laundry the most. So much so, that I've considered becoming a nudist. (I know, I know. Scary.)
When the clean clothes are almost gone and I begin thinking that gnomes are stealing my son's underpants, I start to think I should do laundry. But then I remember Monty Python and the Holy Grail and agree that "It's too perilous" and I should just "Run Away!!!"
It's not only the volume and frequency of loads that bothers me or the tediousness of folding every Lilliputian article of clothing in the Soiled Textile Mountain Range. It's dangerous. Not danger from an avalanche (although I've heard urban myths), but from little surprises and runaway socks.
Everyone has mathematical socks. Two socks plus one cycle equals one sock. (I firmly believe that "one cycle" is actually a negative value.) However, not many people have socks that actually run away. (Even my laundry doesn't want to do laundry.) One of my daughter's above mentioned Lilliputian socks has made it's way to Afghanistan. I'm pretty sure that little girl's gumballs socks are not military issue gear. I can only hope for the best.
The truly dangerous part comes from the child learning to toilet train. Oh Boy! Give them an inch and they'll take a mile, give them bowel independence and they'll give you poop in the laundry. My son had an accident one day and didn't tell me, just went and put on new underpants. I should be very proud of his initiative, but I'm not. Because... I was doing laundry about a week later and there, fossilized in a pair of Optimus Prime underwear was the poop in the laundry.
My laundry has just informed me that it's atheist so there's no need to be cleanly, which is good because it's really much too perilous!
When the clean clothes are almost gone and I begin thinking that gnomes are stealing my son's underpants, I start to think I should do laundry. But then I remember Monty Python and the Holy Grail and agree that "It's too perilous" and I should just "Run Away!!!"
It's not only the volume and frequency of loads that bothers me or the tediousness of folding every Lilliputian article of clothing in the Soiled Textile Mountain Range. It's dangerous. Not danger from an avalanche (although I've heard urban myths), but from little surprises and runaway socks.
Everyone has mathematical socks. Two socks plus one cycle equals one sock. (I firmly believe that "one cycle" is actually a negative value.) However, not many people have socks that actually run away. (Even my laundry doesn't want to do laundry.) One of my daughter's above mentioned Lilliputian socks has made it's way to Afghanistan. I'm pretty sure that little girl's gumballs socks are not military issue gear. I can only hope for the best.
The truly dangerous part comes from the child learning to toilet train. Oh Boy! Give them an inch and they'll take a mile, give them bowel independence and they'll give you poop in the laundry. My son had an accident one day and didn't tell me, just went and put on new underpants. I should be very proud of his initiative, but I'm not. Because... I was doing laundry about a week later and there, fossilized in a pair of Optimus Prime underwear was the poop in the laundry.
My laundry has just informed me that it's atheist so there's no need to be cleanly, which is good because it's really much too perilous!
3.03.2010
Deployment Special
In honor of Adam reaching the correct -Stan, here's a heartwarming story involving deployments.
Children show their innocence in some amazing ways. It's never expected, and always amazing. They are terrific, loving little creatures, and say the darndest things.
Yesterday was our first phone card sponsored call from Afganistan. For a month, my husband has been in New Jersey for combat training (New Jersey in the middle of winter to prepare for the desert. Who thought of that???).
Since he's actually gone now, I was having a pretty hard day. I sat my son down and explained to him that I'm sorry I'm so grumpy, I'm just having a bad day because I miss Daddy a whole, whole lot.
"I give you a hug and a kiss, Mama!" was the response I got.
"That would be great, Bubba," I told him.
"A big smushy, squishy hug!!!" he said.
That may be the best hug I've ever gotten. I love children!!!
Children show their innocence in some amazing ways. It's never expected, and always amazing. They are terrific, loving little creatures, and say the darndest things.
Yesterday was our first phone card sponsored call from Afganistan. For a month, my husband has been in New Jersey for combat training (New Jersey in the middle of winter to prepare for the desert. Who thought of that???).
Since he's actually gone now, I was having a pretty hard day. I sat my son down and explained to him that I'm sorry I'm so grumpy, I'm just having a bad day because I miss Daddy a whole, whole lot.
"I give you a hug and a kiss, Mama!" was the response I got.
"That would be great, Bubba," I told him.
"A big smushy, squishy hug!!!" he said.
That may be the best hug I've ever gotten. I love children!!!
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