Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Nailed it: Parenting Edition

As we got strapped into the car from preschool the other day I took a moment to read yet another "ouch report" for DC (he gets one almost every day). As I was reading RJ timidly calls out from the backseat, "Mommy? Is that the note from Ms Lisa?"

I immediately bristled. RJ has NEVER gotten a note home...Ever. "No honey. Was Ms Lisa going to send a note home today?"

She stared at the floor and sheepishly replied, "She said she was gonna."

My adrenaline began pumping and I could hear the blood beginning to rush in my ears. I tried to remain calm so as not to alert RJ to the impending danger. "Why was she going to send a note home honey?" I tried to sound as natural as I could.

She sunk lower in her carseat and mumbled "Because I was being disrespectful."

And without another word I jumped out of the running car (still parked in car line) and bolted into the front office leaving both kids helplessly strapped into their carseats. (Just for the record the front office was only about 10 feet away from my car and I could see them through the plate glass doors.)

"Did Ms Lisa leave a note for me before she left for the day?" I demanded.

After a few minutes of searching and coming up empty I decided to handle it in the morning. I returned to the car to question RJ the whole way home.

"I don't knowwwwwwwww what I did wrong," she kept protesting.

I will spare you the play by play but I'm sure you can fill in the blanks.

"Fine," I said. "Then until you can 'remember' exactly how it was that you were disrespectful to your teacher you will have no TV and no iPad." (She has quite the affinity for watching German and Korean cartoons on YouTube on my iPad.)

Of course this was met with screams of protest and enough tears that I thought we may need life jackets before making it to the house. However, I stood my ground. I refused to be manipulated and that type of behavior (disrespecting your elders) will not be tolerated in my house.

The rest of the evening was quite the battle as DC was allowed to watch TV and RJ was quarantined to the kitchen straining to hear the sounds of the cartoons playing in the den. I continued to question her throughout the evening but each time she was adamant that she "didn't know" what she did wrong.

That's fine I thought. We'll get the real story in the morning.

The next morning I hunted down Ms Lisa in the gym- RJ sheepishly trailing behind me, head hung, staring at the floor.

"Did you need to talk to me about yesterday?" I blurted out to Lisa as soon as I saw her.

She looked at me perplexed and didn't say anything. I could see her eyes searching for an answer.

I relayed what RJ had told me about being disrespectful and busting herself about the note that was supposed to come home.

Without missing a beat Ms Lisa burst out laughing. "No no no!!! That was another child! RJ saw me writing the note and asked about it but she didn't do anything wrong!!"

RJ looked up at us with a timid glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"Sweetie, you didn't do anything wrong yesterday! You are just fine! Now go play with your friends," Ms Lisa encouraged.

And there you have it. Yet another instance of my flawless parenting...you're welcome.


Friday, February 14, 2014

momversation hearts

So its Valentines Day.  I have put one child to bed and the other is ready but laying here watching a movie.  We've been cooped up inside for 3 days thanks to snowpacalypse 2014.  So Ive finally poured a glass of wine.  I kind of wish I could tell my 22 year old self that Valentines really is just another day.  I love Big Daddy and we have an awesome relationship, but we just arent really into Valentines.  We are one of those wierd sappy couples who try to celebrate our love at least weekly.  But I digress and probably make you sick with that.

Sk and I made vday cookies today-so we wouldnt all go stir crazy.  I had bought conversation hearts for her class but desperate times called  for desperate measures.  I let her plaster them all over iced sugar cookies.  (SUGAR OVERLOAD TODAY).  But those tiny little hearts started me thinking......who comes up with the sayings?!?

It led to a conversation with Ashford.  What is those crazy little hearts said what moms across America are thinking as they strive to make the perfect pinterest inspired cards for the classroom exchange.  Wouldnt life be a little more enjoyable if they said, "dont eat boogars" or "stop picking your nose"? Or "no feet on the baby";  "because I said so"; "wipe your own ass"; "use your fork".  Maybe even "are you listening?", "you flushed what?", "you got poop where?", "dont put that in your mouth", "we'll see", or "use your big girl voice".  Of course there is "we're late", "need sleep", BE QUIET!", and "sit still".  The irony is that as i type these, Im realizing that they might actually be appropriate for the kids AND the husband!!

So enjoy the romance this Valentines Day.  Im off to contact Brachs regarding their next big seller for Valentines!!


Friday, February 7, 2014

So this is 34....

So this is it. The last year I have before I move up to the "35 and over" check box on medical and government forms. So how did I celebrate you ask? Well I started by NOT setting my alarm the night before. Crazy I know. In my defense my birthday was on a Saturday so I knew I could sleep in if only just a little bit...

6:20 AM: "MOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYY I HAVE TO POOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!!" the little voice wails out from the foot of my bed.
"Just go in Mommy's bathroom and let me know when you're done," I mumble back thinking this would give me just a few seconds more of sleep.
But the sounds that came next....oh the sounds. I'll spare you the details but it was enough for me to know that I had absolutely no chance of catching another instant of sleep.
I rolled my pregnant belly over and began crawling out of the bed.

SIDENOTE: I have reached the stage of pregnancy where getting out of bed involves all sorts of pushing, pulling, twisting, and grunting. It most always causes shortness of breath and due to a misaligned pelvis is one of the most painful things I have ever experienced.

I glance back at my peacefully sleeping husband who is still snoring a little, haul myself onto the floor in an orca-like fashion, take a deep breath and enter the bathroom.

7:30 AM: RJ comes running in with a brightly colored envelope yelling "HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY!!"
I take note that the hubs actually remembered to get a card for the kids to give me this year and am slightly impressed. That is, until I open it.

It only takes me a second to realize that this is a stepmom card (a very sweet one yet still a stepmom card). I thank her and give her a huge hug stifling my laughter. I decide not to mention it to anyone in the family lest I make them feel bad.

7:35 AM: I cook an amazing bacon and eggs breakfast and force the family to sit down for "Family Breakfast." This only lasts about 3 minutes before both kids are whining and crying and we finally release them from the torturous experience that is "Family Breakfast."

9:30 AM: I drop DC off at Daddy's work so that I can take RJ to a gymnastics birthday party. She keeps asking if it is MY birthday party that we are going to. I try to explain to her that I am not having a birthday party and that adults don't always get birthday parties. She is mystified.

12:00 PM: I rendezvous with my parents (who have picked up DC from Daddy's work) at Chick Fil A. Unbeknownst to me my mother has picked up a Boston Cream Cake complete with a singing candle and has brought me a birthday present. They all sing Happy Birthday to me as the rest of the restaurant stares at the 34 year old in the corner having a birthday celebration in Chick Fil A.
 RJ is convinced this is my party.

The rest of the afternoon goes by just like every other Saturday. Hubby still at work, naps, sibling fights, dog poop on the floor, and doing laundry. I realize that this is it. This is my life. And for now, this is the best it's gonna get.
Now that might sound cynical off the cuff but I wouldn't have it any other way. I embrace my chaos. My children and my stories (crazy as they are) are what define me now. I never saw this coming but here I am and I'm in the thick of it.

5:30 PM: The hubs comes home and presents me with another amazing, heartfelt card and a gift.

(Yes, that IS a vacuum. In his defense I did actually ASK for said vacuum and by the time my birthday rolled around I had forgotten I had asked for the vacuum. So I was totally surprised and excited when I opened it!)

I will say that evening I did get a little taste of adult time when the hubs blew me away with a hot date (I am making him an appointment for an MRI because he clearly has a brain tumor but we'll save that for a day that's NOT my birthday).

First of all my present. This is probably now my most prized possession and I can think of nothing that embodies me more. I found this amazing girl on etsy (my new obsession) that can take children's artwork and put it onto jewelry. So I took a picture that RJ drew of me holding her and DC's hands and had it made into a necklace.

[Here's a link to her shop if  you're interested. https://www.etsy.com/listing/150784109/child-artwork-bracelet?ref=sr_gallery_32&ga_search_query=children+artwork+jewelry&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_ship_to=US&ga_search_type=all]

He had also driven down to the restaurant ahead of time and had a card and a bottle of wine waiting at our table when we got there.

Now you're thinking "Why would he have taken a special bottle of wine when you're pregnant and can't drink?"
Well, he has taken up the hobby of "brewing" his own wine (do you brew wine? make wine? I'm not sure what the correct terminology is for this) in our hall closet. Now this is another story for another time but I will give you the tasty little tidbit that now ALL of our winter jackets smell like fermented yeast.
Apparently he has been working on a special batch for months and months (possibly even before we knew I was pregnant) to give to me for my birthday. So although he was the only one that got to partake in the first bottle of "Lauren's Reserve" there are 30 bottles waiting for that glorious day in May when baby #3 makes its way into the world. (And maybe they'll even last me more than just a day.)