Paranoid?

I try really hard in this blog not to come across as a crazy, paranoid person. Please forgive me if I occasionally miss the mark. But today... today is one of those days I am not even going to try. I am letting go, and I'm planning on spouting out all sorts of words and sentences that will let you know, at last, that yes, I should be locked away and am unfit for society.

The weather is plotting against me. ME, specifically. Yeah yeah, ice storms all over, snow everywhere, but no, I happen to know it's really ME the snow and ice is trying to drive insane. How do I know?

People: I HAVE NO LIFE! Sure, I have kids, and I have this house, and I'm busy all the time doing laundry and cleaning and driving kids to school and all that, but... There's very little to actually get excited about. I get worked up about a kid's yearly check-up a week ahead of time. I get WAY too excited about the movies coming in on Netflix. I even look forward to "bike day" at the kids' school.

This fall we joined a church. And I love it because this particular church does not require me to stop wondering if there is even a God, and lets me feel magic and spiritual in the way I love best - by singing. I LOVE the singing even if the songs are sometimes hokey and we sound terrible doing it. I look forward to the rehearsals and to the services, and I am never as happy as I am when I am actually singing.

Choir rehearsals are Wednesday nights. Wednesday also happens to be Trash Pickup Day, and the day I do grocery shopping. It is also a school day for the boys. Every Wednesday but ONE this year we have had major ice and snow storms, and I have had to juggle the schedule to try to get food for us to eat, to get the trash to balance precariously on the mountain of snow at the foot of our driveway, And to risk my LIFE getting to choir rehearsals because if I'm going to be at home all day with the boys, I sure as heck-fire and gonna let loose and sing some "Spirit of Creation" afterward.

I happen to know it's also snowing this week because of the trip to NY I was planning. I was planning on leaving tomorrow, because the boys had school today. Which they no longer have. But leaving now would be insanity, right? Not to mention the fact that Nick's Parent/Teacher conference is now rescheduled to the day and TIME I have my Doctor's appointment - not a kid's, but MINE.

People, we've had enough snow. Look at the pictures. They do not lie. And this is after the snow has gone down for over a week. I can tell because I can see the handles of the boys shovels and the head of the snowman we built LAST MONTH. And these pictures - I just took them. They say we'll get a foot of snow on top of this.

I hate it here. I hate it. I'm looking forward to freaking global warming. And I'm going to run the car in the driveway right now for no reason just to speed up the process. so there!

A liitle off today, folks

Really upset by the impending snowstorm. Please forgive me, but I'm too depressed to write.

When you least expect it

Just when you think you've caught up on the laundry and your house is clean, one kid will throw up in bed all over the sheets and the comforter and the pillow, and another will puke en route to the bathroom splattering the mess all along the just-been-mopped kitchen floor. And I mean ALL along the kitchen floor, which is saying something, if you've seen the ginormous kitchen.

Unfortunately, there is no wine in the house. I shall just sit tight and hope it's a fluke, and not a stomach bug.

My mood is not improved by the weather forcast, which says we get a foot of snow on Wednesday.

Hair

I got a hair cut. So did the boys. Maybe I got confused about which place I was supposed to ask for the cut and color?

Hey, Linda!

What's that you're always saying about my boys and their big, bald heads?

Getting Over It

Today was one of those days when it felt like the boys were actively working against me. Seriously, they want to break me and see me loose it. Off to the loony bin with me. The sad part it, I might see it as a kind of break.
It's one thing when they fight, or when they don't listen, but when I'm letting them play and my goal is to clean up a room - one room - and I keep finding objects that belong in that room all over the house - in the bathroom, the hallway, under the kitchen table - I can't help but wonder if they know how crazy they are making me. Especially when I get back to that room and find my entire CD collection spread out on the floor.

They have no clue, of course. Andy just loves getting into the drawer where I keep the boys toothpaste and sucking it out of the tube, and he can't help his instinct to put poisonous things into his mouth. And Nick and Nate try to help, it's just that they don't completely grasp what my goal is... or what a "goal" is in general. And with three of them at once, it can be disheartening.

But now I have popcorn. I'm over it.


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Politics

Who is our new president?

Well, according to Nathan, his name is "Obonka." And nobody better tell him any different.

Home Improvement

I just spent ten days painting a room, and messed it up in three seconds by swatting red paint all over the white wall,

Act Of Creation

The birthday cake I made for Nate was my first attempt at using rolled fondant.

I am neither baker nor sculptor, so my expectations weren't too high. Instead of making my own, for this first "play session," I purchased some ready made. You can get it at some arts & crafts stores, and all you have to do is roll it out and drape it over the cake. It was that easy. And, looking at the Wall-E cake below.... well, does it not look smooth?

I've learned a couple of things from the process. First, add flavoring. (any clear flavoring - clear vanilla!) Second, roll it thinner - it's gummy, and not pleasant to chew. Third... well, success with forming anything out of fondant can be measures by one's gift at sculpting play-doe. I can't make anything out of that stuff unless I use cookie cutters. Hence, the green stars on Nate's cake. I tried my best at turning stars into flowers, but the icing started to get hard, so I ran out of time.

Next time (and there will be a next time) I am going to try to make my own. All I need is a candy thermometer. And beautiful, premade, edible flowers.

Off Target

Last Monday Nick's teacher told me he needed waterproof gloves. When buying gloves for this winter I glanced at the poofy, warmer, more expensive gloves, but opted for the strtchy knit kind because 1 - they are less expensive 2 - the kids never seem to want to spend more than 10 minutes in the snow anyway and 3 -none of my kids can keep a pair of gloves together for more than 20 seconds, sometimes loosing a glove before we even get into the car.

Nevertheless, the teacher explained that at school they spend 45 minutes outside, and once Nick's gloves get wet he is cold and uncomfortable. So Friday, my shopping day, I set out to Target to get some. It was Nate's birthday, and a very cold day. When I left the garage, the car gave the outside temperature a balmy 25 degrees. By the time I pulled into the school parking lot, it read -6.

That's NEGATIVE SIX, people. BELOW ZERO.

I swept the two younger kids back into the car and drove us to Target where I expected to find the gloves I was looking for. After all, I had SEEN them there before. However, once I got there, all I could find were the stretchy knit ones we already had. Apparently they took them all down to make room for the swimsuits and easter dresses. Yes. Here in New England, in January, I can browse through five different racks of swimsuits. But GOD HELP ME if I want to buy a pair of MITTENS. in NEGATVE SIX DEGREE TEMPS! Stupid me. I guess I was supposed to buy everything back in September, when they first set them out, and I was looking for shorts.

Am I the only one who wonders what Target, and other chain stores, are thinking? I mean, who needs swimsuits now? Put out a couple of racks for vacationers, if you must, but what kid doesn't loose a glove? What about the rest of us who need to buy things we need NOW instead of things we might need FIVE MONTHS from now. I mean, the earliest we might possibly use a swimsuit here in New Hampshire is May, and that's four months from now. And it just keeps getting worse and worse. I suppose, if I wait long enough, they just might start putting out NEXT year's winter stuff NOW, getting so far ahead of themselves that they lap the seasons and it starts making sense again. But for now, since the business decisions aren't being made by people, but my business executives who keep their gloves in their ski chalets, I've got a five year old with no gloves.

My frustration only increasedwhen I went to checkout and there were ten people waiting for the one register that was open. Apparently all the other employees were busy pulling the winter items off the shelves.

So I went online to buy the boys gloves. I went to LL Bean, and I consoled myself by telling myself I could buy myself new winter boots. I need them, as I'm still wearing the same ones I got in 1995. I told everyone I needed some for Christmas, and then at one point it seemed as though I might get several pairs. I must have mentioned this to several people because I didn't get any. So I went online to look up the boots I wanted. Guess what? Et tu, LL Bean?

I ordered the gloves anyway. They should get here early next week. Which is good, because we have six inches of fresh snow, and counting.

Happy Birthday Nathan!

Today was Nathan's Third Birthday.



The cupcakes I made him for school:

The cake I made for our family celebration:


I think he had a good day.

Donkey Fable

There was this story, this fable, that I remember hearing when I was a little girl. The way I remember it, a man and his son were walking their donkey into town. And on their way they passed some people and overheard them saying "Foolish people! Why are they both walking when one of them could be riding the donkey?" So the son climbed on the donkey and on they went until they passed another group of people. This time they overheard people saying "Selfish son! Riding that donkey while his poor old father has to walk!" So the son hopped down and the father hopped on up, and on they went. Until they passed yet another group of people. "Poor donkey! Having to walk all that way with that heavy man on his back!" And the end result was that father and son ended up in town carrying the donkey.

The moral of the story is: You can't please everyone.

I know that this moral can apply to life in general, and to any particular aspect of life. But lately I've been thinking of how it applies to parenthood, in particular.

Because there's no way you could win, with parenthood. Starting from the very moment you find out you're pregnant, everyone has some idea of what you can't or can't do. You can't drink. But some women will have a drink while pregnant. Others will actually smoke. Which I find horrific. But many women also find it horrific when a mom-to-be has a large cup of coffee. Which I did most every day. And some pregnant women actually watch things like sugar intake, protein, and... um... salt. Or whatever.

Not that I'm pregnant. I'm not. But the thing is, it keeps going. To how you give birth - drugs, or no drugs? Then breastfeeding? Some people think if you don't, you're selfish, lazy, and putting your child's future health at risk. But don't breastfeed too long. Or you're turning your child into a freak. Or if you're on the other end of the argument, don't stop too soon. And don't let them fall asleep with a bottle, ever. Or a pacifier. And don't give them solid food too soon. But for heaven's sake, don't wait too long. And don't give them any of those "allergenic" foods, like eggs, or peanuts, or strawberry, or anything dairy. At all. Because if you do, you're a horrible mother. On the other hand, you don't want to be one of those parents with a child who is "sensitive" to everything. (Some people think giving your kids peanuts too soon will cause them to have allergies later on, and some people think not giving them nuts soon enough causes the allergies.) And if you don't force your children to eat only organic foods you're endangering their welfare. And while some people think I'm crazy to limit TV time, other people are horrified that I let such small children watch any at all.

The same goes for child safety. A lot of parents think I'm insane for not installing baby gates because my kids might fall down the stairs... on the other hand, my kids learn how to go up and down stairs much earlier than some 'other' people's kids. And I have bent my mind into a pretzels trying to find the line between watching my kids too much and not watching them enough, between telling them what to do and letting them make their own choices, and deciding if it's more important to help Nathan, who's peed his pants and has his shirt tangled over his head and is wailing and sobbing, or to stop Andy, who is methodically climbing up the dresser, which is wobbling, to reach the hot poisonous knives.

Some days I feel as though everyone is watching me and rolling their eyes, judging the job I'm doing as a mother because my kids are loud or excited or cranky. And I honestly don't know what it is I'm supposed to do, or what it is the other parents expect me to so. Or even, in some circumstances, what STEVE expects me to do. If I try the patient, calm, quiet voice approach, I can only speak to one child at a time, and it appears as though I am letting the other two run wild. If I resort to yelling, I look like... well, someone who yells at her kids a lot. Because I've tried yelling, and it doesn't really work, and usually just leads to more yelling.

There's no real way to do this right.

Sing a Song

It's not that I purposely goof off during choir.

It's just that I like singing so much. And it lightens my heart. And it makes me giggle at inappropriate moments. During rehearsals. And sometimes during performance. But mostly during rehearsals.

Terrble, Horrible, etc.

This morning Andy woke up at 5am crying. Since I'm painting his room - a four day project in it's fifth day and only halfway done - I've put him in his play yard in the big kid's room. So of course Nick and Nate woke right up. I got up. I rocked Andy, who was quiet but staring at me, eyes wide open. Nick and Nate decided to help me put him back to sleep by singing "quietly."

Today was a gym day, and it was there that I noticed stuff leaking out of Andy's ear. So as soon as we got home - after putting a sleeping Andy on the floor - I called the pediatrician. I fed the boys lunch, put on a video,told Steve he was on duty, and plonked Andy back in the car, where he woke up. Turns out both ears were infected. And I thought he was just cracky because he was teething.

I dropped off the perscription, drove home, and put the other boys in the car to make it to Nick's Eye Doctor appointment. Both Andy and Nate fell asleep on the way there. Nick did very well during the exam, unless you count the screaming he did when the nurse had to put drops in his eyes - we both had to hold him and she had to pry his eye lids back. But his vision is pretty much perfect. Which means we're back to square one for the headaches.

Steve had to leave for a business meeting, which meant that I got the kids all to myself all afternoon. I was so tired I let them watch too much TV while I made Wall-E cupcakes for Nate's school class birthday tomorrow. And dinner. While Andy cried and clung to my knees and fell to the floor whenever I had to turn in any direction.

I am so tired.

Check Mate

When Andy sleeps longer than the Big Boys at naptime, I sometimes let them take out toys I don't usually let them play with. These toys have many small parts that refuse to stay on the table and that smaller boys love to pop into their little mouths. One of these toys is a "10 Games in One!" box, with multiple boards and tiny little marbles and discs and, oddly enough, wooden sprinkles.

Nick loved to play with "the marbles" and asks for them a lot, but I refuse a lot, simply because each time we dig out the box twenty little parts fall to the floor and get missed in the clean up. But it's been so snowy and yucky that I actually pulled it out. While Nick played with the marbles, Nate plucked out the chess pieces and asked me to play with him.

"I don't remember how to play," I confessed. But I set up the board and told him the names of the pieces, and how they moved (if I remembered it.) I also told him that to win, you had to capture the other person's king.

"This is the king." Nate said, pointing to his king. I nodded. "And this is my queen." He pointed to his queen. Then he reached over and pointed to my royal couple. "That's your king, and that's your queen."

Satisfied that he understood, I turned to fold laundry while he played. "No! Mommy, play with me!" he shouted. "I can't, I don't remember how!" I said. But Nate would have none of it. He scrambled toward me, halfway over the table, pleading, "Please, play chess with me, Mommy! Play this game!"

And looking down he snatched up a piece. "I got your king! You Loose!"

Honanunu Now

The boys got this talking map-puzzle of the US. When you put in a state, the puzzle tells you the name of the state, the state nickname, and the state capital. "Tennessee! The Volunteer State! State capital: Nashville!"

No matter how much I try to convince them otherwise, they boys insist that that capital of Hawaii is pronounced "Hona NU NU"

Wednesday night we had a lot of snow, but I went to choir rehearsal anyway. It had been put off because of the holidays and before that for the informal Christmas Eve choir. I missed it. Thursday we had a freezing rain all day. Friday the snow I didn't shovel in front of my garage door was a two foot tall block of ice. Sunday it snowed a foot, and the driveway was so slippery Steve couldn't get up it in the plow. Of course not only was choir canceled, but church school and also church. So I guess it didn't matter. But I woke up depressed after a night of getting up with Andy every thirty minutes - ear infection, I think. And I was just so frustrated and sad all I wanted to do was pull the covers over my head - not get up and listen to the boys fight and ""New Jersey! The Garden State!"

Steve was shoveling snow on his knees, and finally called Lillian to ask her to bring us ice melt. Then he realized there had been an accident on the highway involving 50 cars and the highway had been closed for hours. Lucky for us she made it here wihout incident. After she left I want out and tried to finish up, but honestly all I think I did was push slush from one end of the driveway to the other with the shovel.

I would like to move to Honanunu now.

Frustrating Frustration

I had the bright idea to paint a few rooms in my house.

I had it all broken up. I was going to do one room a month, reasoning that it usually takes me about a week to do a room, and giving me breaks in between.

Steve urged me to take my time, and to "splurge" on supplies such as tape and drop cloths and paint edgers, probably because each of my painting jobs leaves us with at least one brightly colored splotch on a rug, drip on a baseboard, or an odd colored blob on the ceiling. And I admit, I usually get bored with this part and try to dive right into the painting part.

So when I started Andy's room, I started it right. I filled the holes in his walls so that, when painted, the walls would be smooth and I could then hang pictures where I wanted and not just to cover up the holes already there.

And that's when I got stuck. Today I set up the play yard for Andy in the boys' room. I started covering up the rug and the furniture too big to leave the room. But I didn't even get to finish that. Because the boys were making such a fuss, Andy screaming for, apparently, no reason at all, and Nick and Nate fighting over who got to use the big white blanket.

And I got a little upset. In my mind I was thinking a week, but now I'm thinking I'm going to be lucky to finish this project by the end of the month. I was planning on doing the prep work - the taping, etc, while the boys were awake. But I'm going to have to do it all while everyone is sleeping. Shoot.

Nothing New with Nick

I took Nick to his doctor's appointment, and the results were... I shouldn't say bad. Bad would have been the doctor taking on look at Nick's fingers and telling me he had to have an MRI, or that he was going to loose his fingers, or that he had some horrible syndrome and was going to need to be on medication forever. And none of those things happened. Here's what did:

The doctor didn't know what to make of his fingernails. She did say it was probably not iron or zinc (with fingernails she said it would be zinc) because it only occurred on three nails and he didn't get a rash, nor was he having problems with his hair. So she was referring him to a dermatologist. Did you know dermatologists deal with fingernails and hair issues? Apparently they do.

As for the headaches, she suggested we get his eyes checked. Because most of the time headaches like his are caused by eyesight, and it's also the easiest fix.

So immediately upon returning from the doctor's office, I called the eye doctor and made an appointment for next week. And the dermatologist, and made an appointment for next month. And hoped the fingernails wouldn't get too much worse before then. And in each case I had to give out all the information in the world, the insurance information, the date of birth, the referring doctor, Steve's name, birthdate, workplace. Then I had to call the pediatrician and tell them about the other doctor's appointments so that all the referring information could be faxed back and forth.

Ugh.

Gotta Pay The Toll

When we were kids we went through a tollbooth every day to get to school. We used to play this game where one of us would stick out an arm, blocking the way of other siblings, and shout "Gotta Pay The Toll!" And usually a hand slap would do it. (This game may as well been called "Annoying The Others.")

Our kids know about tollbooths, but I don't think they are as clear on what goes on during the transaction. Nate was scooting around the kitchen on Andy's new ride-on rocket, and when he reached me he stuck out his hand. "You give me money!" he shouted.

Link link link

I don't know if you've noticed, but I've added a couple of new "places to go." If you have time, check them out.

I monitor the sites I post links to, and after a few months of inactivity, I remove it from my list. If you're resurrecting a site I used to include, please let me know!

I still have no photos

Sorry.

I'm a little distracted tonight. Nicholas has been complaining of headaches for months - at dinner, at school... and we've been chalking them up to dramatics, guessing he is either bored or wants attention or at least a change of scene. But it's gotten so that his teachers have mentioned the headaches more than once. If he's faking he sure is persistent. Maybe he needs glasses?

So there's that.

But then... well, just before Christmas he showed me his thumb, saying he cut it. But in fact, it looked as though the nail had broken off in the middle of the nail, but hadn't quite fallen off. And so I thought he banged his thumb, or ripped his nail on something. But Saturday I noticed that two more fingers - the middle one on each hand, were developing white splotches at the base of the nail, and today one was starting to crack. And besides, the kid can't bump his toe at school without telling me about it. Let alone smash his fingers hard enough to damage three nails.. on two different hands.

I keep telling myself it's probably some nail fungus - gross, but people get it on their toes all the time. It's just that I worry. Part of me, the worst case scenario part, is worried that the headaches and the fingernails are somehow related in some horrible way.

Thursday we go to the doctor. She can laugh at me and give Nick and anti fungal.

Robot Cupcakes

For his birthday, Nathan wants Wall-E cupcakes.

During moments of insanity, I have actually shown him cupcakes and cakes and other Wall-E food products online. Like this.

Or this.

Or maybe this?

There are so many.

Seriously, if you have time, try the links. There's a really good Wall-E cake that looks just like the robot, some cute cupcakes, and a killer Wall-E made out of sushi.

But I am terrified because now Nate's birthday is two weeks away, and we've been looking at all these beautiful baked goods, and all I know how to do is smear icing on a crumbly cake. The more I look at these cakes and all these wonderful cupcakes the more I need to learn how to use fondant. And the more helpless I feel because I know I'll never be able to learn how to use it by the 16th, and even if I DID... well, I've never been artistic. I figure if all I can make out of playdough is a meatball and a snail, I probably don't have that much hope of being able to sculpt a miniature robot out of icing.

I hope the party store has some good Wall-E cake toppers.

I Can See Clearly Now The Rain Has Gone

HEY! So... yesterday's post was a bit of a downer. Sorry about that. Last night the baby slept all night and until almost 8am, so I got a lot of sleep. Especially in the morning, since Steve got up with the kids... I'm getting up with them tomorrow, so they'll all probably wake at 5am again...

A good night's sleep will work wonders. As will a good book. Or a good workout. Today is the first day in a long time that I've felt happy and energetic and hopeful. Optimistic. Good. Hooray for me.

Sleep Rage

Many things about becoming a parent took me by surprise. Spit up, for instance. And Laundry. I mean, I knew there would be laundry, but no so much of it. I guess I figured that, since the clothes were so much smaller... well, who knew?

I also knew about sleep deprivation. I had heard about waking up and putting babies back to sleep, midnight feedings, etc. But I wasn't prepared for just how frustrated I would be waking up at 3am, for the third time that night, to a one-year-old that is no longer breast fed, is eating real food, and who would like the pleasure of my company.

Nicholas was like this. He would wake up eleven times a night as long as I'd go in a sit with him in the rocking chair. I finally had to just let him cry, and it was a painful, irritating, frustrating process. Because at 3am, on twenty minutes of sleep, after a full year of not sleeping through the night... well, it's easy to give in, and I think I should either toss a bottle into the crib ot toss the baby out the window. And after Nick, I thought all babies were like this.

But then there was Nate. I was worried Nate's screaming would wake Nick, but Nate cried only until I walked into the bedroom, and refused to sit with me in the rocking chair. He would pitch his body toward the crib until I put him back to bed. Then he immediately fell asleep. So then I thought babies must be like Nate, and Nick was a freak.

But Andy is now over a year, and he doesn't sleep through the night. He wants a bottle. I allow him one a night. Because he keeps waking up and crying. Hell fall asleep in my arms, and the second I STAND UP to put him down he starts to cry. And he keeps crying as I bury my head under the covers and try to wait it out. And after 30 minutes I give up, go in, let him fall asleep in my arms for 30 seconds, and then it starts ALL OVER AGAIN.

But that's not what I was most unprepared for. No. What I was most unprepared for, and am most frustrated by, are the adds for SLEEP AIDS that are ALL OVER THE PLACE. The ARTICLES about how people NEED MORE SLEEP. The adds for sleep aids usually start out "Do you find it hard to get a good night's sleep? Is it interfering with your day? LUNESTA CAN HELP!" And I really would like to call those stupid sleep aid people and drag them back here so THEY can wake up five times a night. Also, if those people who can't sleep want to drag their behinds over here, I AM able to sleep if someone would just give me a CHANCE.

And those articles... I read one yesterday NOT about how people should sleep MORE, but how they should sleep LATER. Apparently 7am is when people can get most stressed (I know I usually hid my mid-day peak about then), and also "night owls are more creative." Based on the tests they gave. Of course, my question is "what time of day did they give the tests?" And also "how much sleep did the uncreative types get? HOW MANY KIDS DO THOSE 'CREATIVE' PEOPLE HAVE?"



I'm sorry this post is so ranty and rambling. I'm just a little tired. Of it. And just tired.

Andy Attack

Andy can now reach up and grab things from the table, such as silverware, cookies, and uncapped pens.

He now not only can go UP the stairs, he also can go down, but 50% of the time he falls.

He loves to sit on the couch and the bed.

He knows about chocolate, shrimp, and bagels. If you eat anything around him, he will cry until you give him some. Then he's very likely to simply turn around and feed it to the dog.

He loves his toothbrush.

He also loves books. I swear he says "Book." Only when he says it, it sounds more like... "Kugh." He says it often enough when he's waving one around, though, so I'm pretty sure that's what he's trying to say.

Resolve to resolve

I know that, for a lot of people, New Year's Eve is about a great big party. This was the case for me for years and years. But a few years ago I started getting into New Year's Resolutions. Not so that I could resolve to loose the same five pounds every year. But to use the opportunity to do things I've been putting off doing, to become more the person that I would like to be. I now work out on a regular (kind of) basis. I bring canvas shopping bags with me when I buy groceries almost every time. I have become SO much better about limiting TV time. I haven't made Hamburger Helper in YEARS. My house is rarely a disaster area, I am still slowly replacing regular bulbs with those twirly low energy ones (even though they are horrible to dispose of), and I am continually going through my things and making ples of things to give to goodwill... even if they sometimes take a long while to get there.



I try not to make too many resolutions, because then they become too hard to keep. And the goal is to set them, keep them, and keep on keeping them, right? And there are some that are personal, and that I would rather not share with you. But here are the ones I am comfortable broadcasting to the universe:

FIX UP MY HOUSE - My house isn't exactly falling apart, but there are quite a few rooms that could use attention. There are holes in walls I have simply moved furniture in front of, or hung pictures over. Some rooms are still wearing the paint they had on when we bought the place - not horrible, but I hate a lot of it, especially when I can see where the previous homeowners hung their pictures on the walls. I have already developed a schedule of what rooms I will be painting and doing over this year, and when. I've already purchased a bunch of new paint, rollers, and even some tinted primer. And I am also proud of knowing about tinted primer, and when to use it.

QUILT MORE - This is rather obvious, don't you think? It's just that I have so many ideas, and want to do so much, but rarely do I actually get anything done. I need to set aside some time each week to do it.

DON'T GET SO WOUND UP - I have a hard time knowing when it's appropriate to get all bent out of shape. But instead of getting all worked up and shouting at the kids because they woke up at freakin 5am, maybe I can relax, and find a way to sneak in a few extra minutes of shut eye. After all, yelling will only wake everyone up more, right?

See? These are completely reasonable. You'll notice I didn't put anything down about caffeine intake, cooking with butter, or my closet.

Stuff and Fluff

I usually try and avoid posting about my husband or family members or either of my friends. The idea is that I usually post in good spirits, but something I feel is funny or harmless, such as "We saw Anne-E today. She has hair. Then we got stuck in traffic and it was such a pain" will come back to haunt me. Anne-E will reply or call me. "What do you mean it was a pain? Don't you like coming to see me? The traffic wasn't THAT bad. And what do you mean I have hair? What's wrong with my hair?" So I usually just skip it, unless it's my Mom, because she HAS to love me.

So it's understandable if I don't usually post about arguments that Steve and I have. But today I am making an exception.

Joke gifts can be funny. Sometimes, in fact, they can be VERY funny. But more often than not it leaves the person on the receiving end with something they did not want, do not need, and probably has no use for. For example, during the Yankee Swap we did this year I got the booby gift, and ended up with a giant burlap tarp, a beer holder, and something resembling a giant cheesecloth for wrapping around deer once they have been killed. The gift was funny! But I have no idea what to do with the... um... deercloth.

Regardless, when a person gets a gift from a Yankee Swap, I feel that person should take the gift home with them. One of the gifts opened this year was a bag of coal, funny, but not useful. Not for us, anyway, living in this particular century and with oil heat. And we didn't even open it, someone else did! Yet here it is, on my kitchen counter.

"Do you mind if I throw this out?" I asked Steve this morning.

Steve looked at me. "Why would you do that?" he asked.

"Well... were you going to use it for something?"

"Is it BOTHERING you?" he asked. And of course I want to say "NO," because the way he asked the question made it sound that to say "YES, YES the bag of coal is bothering me!" is to be INSANE. And to tell the truth, the bag isn't bothering me. Yet. But I hate to leave things just sitting there. And Steve can just let things sit on the counter for years until one day, when we actually NEED a bag of coal, he goes out and buys one because the one sitting in front of us has become INVISIBLE.

In the house I grew up in, things sat on the counter for AGES, or until my mother threw everything into a bag because we were having a party. And fourteen, fifteen, a hundred times a day the household would be thrown into an uproar while everyone stopped to look for something. "Where is INSERT ITEM HERE!" My Homework. The Opera Tickets. The Banjo. The Keys. The Tax Return. Who knew? Everyone had seen it there at some point. For months. It had just been SITTING there. And then I guess someone moved it. Or it got buried in jam. And while I feel that putting things away right away would have fixed things, others would argue that if you'd just leave things where they ARE, then nothing will accidentally THROWN AWAY.

My point is, clutter gets to me. But I know it irritates Steve when I keep putting the lunch meat back in the fridge when he's trying to make a sandwich.

Christmas Stories

To avoid getting up too early, Steve and I decided that we'd all go downstairs together at around 7am. Of course, the kids are too young to really grasp this concept, and as soon as I heard them talking Christmas morning I ran in to distract them with books. But I could only do so much. I was three pages into the first one when Nate tapped me on the shoulder. "I'm just gonna go get my present! I'll be right back!" And he shot into the hallway. He was halfway down the stairs when I caught up to him, screaming with the injustice of it all.
There were a lot of gifts, more than there should have been, ahem ahem, not that we're not all grateful to Santa. But there were a great number of gifts for three small boys to unwrap. It's a lot of work. And panic set in - MY panic - a couple of times, when I thought the process would stretch out until late afternoon. The gift opening began with the stockings, which held battery powered toothbrushes for Nick and Nate. And every five minutes from that point on, Nick asked if it was time to brush his teeth. Each time I presented Nate with a wrapped gift he asked if it was his Wall-E toy, and eventually stopped opening them altogether in favor of riding around on Andy's ride around Rocket. Andy did not unwrap any gifts at all, and had to be bribed to stay in the room with french toast toaster sticks. Nicholas was willing to unwrap anything, thank goodness, or we'd still be there.

Back On Track

I know I haven't posted properly for a while. I know I haven't posted any photos. Sorry.

Things have been crazy here for the past few weeks, what with the power outage and then jumping headlong into Christmas. I haven't hopped on the treadmill in weeks, and I think it's really affecting my mood. Today I lumped around the house, trying not to eat leftover brownies and cookies, unable to focus on any one thing or project. Not sleepy, but not really feeling like DOING anything...

But Monday everything will change. The boys will go to school. I'll get a chance to work out and also to put away some of the toys they got. And I'll stop feeling this nudgy, I'm not doing a good job feeling.

So just stay with me.

Boxing Day

Boxing Day?

It should be called "Recuperation Day."

I had a Happy Christmas, as we all did over here. However, it takes a lot out of you, and my brain isn't up to speed yet. So here are some random observtions:

Next year I am not wrapping any of the kids gifts. Why? Extra work. Not the wrapping. I love the wrapping, actually. But once the gift is opened the paper goes on the floor. Then the boxed gift is handed to Mom or Dad who then has to rip it out of super enforced cardboard and undo the kabillion wires that hold the toy to the box. I swear they must spend more on the packaging and the "theft protection" than they do on the actual TOY. By the time to toy is removed from the box, the wires and the box bits need to be collected and thrown out with the wrapping paper, but the child has moved on to some other gift. Next year, instead of wrapping, I shall simply remove the toys from boxes and scatter tham around the Living Room.

We now own every Wall-E toy in existance.

There really is such a thing as too many gifts for Christmas. Especially for small children.

I don't know how long it's going to take me to clean my house.

Merry Christmas!

May This Christmas Bring You All
Peace, Joy, And Cheer...






And May You All Get Gifts
You Treasure This Year!

Snow Babies

I don't think I really need to say anything here, do you?

.

Pssst - Larissa!

This is a rebuttal post. Kind of.

Yesterday, Larissa wrote this post on her blog, about how Seattle came to a stop after a whole three inches of snow.

Hey, Seattle folk. That ain't snow.

I'd post better pictures, but I haven't ventured out of my warm, dry home. Note the swingset in the last photo, and how high the snow is on the swing and the see saw.

Let It Snow!

Nicholas had a touch of a stomach bug or food poisoning or something.

I feel bad, mostly because he was whimpering and complaining for awhile before we realized he was sick. With Nick it's sometimes difficult to tell.

This morning I took the boys outside to play in the snow. It took forever to get them into their snowsuits. Nick complained and was slow. Nathan ran around and wouldn't listen, putting everything on in the wrong order (boots first, pants second, etc.).

But Andy was by far the most difficult to get ready. First of all, he has no ability to put on his own clothing. Secondly, even if he did, he has no interest in going outside. Thirdly, even if the outdoors appealed to him, he has no idea why he's need the coat. Finally, as soon as I get anything on him, he makes it his primary goal to get it off.

Once we did get outside, Andrew was perplexed. He walked around a bit, and then ended up crawling, which wasn't ideal since the snow was deep and he had it right in his face. Nick and Nate decided to go sledding, and they each went down the hill twice. I went down once with Andy, with him on my lap. He didn't cry, but he refused to crack a smile.

Nicholas ended up crying because his hands were cold and running inside. Nathan cried because I made him go in. And Andy walked inside of his own free will, but oddly began crying as soon as I took off his coat.

Fancy Vs. Cool

One night during the power outage, Steve and I were both giving the boys a bath, as the darkness made things spooky. As usual, Steve and I kept up a stream of constant chatter, and as usual, I steered the conversation toward the holidays, and eventually, Christmas Eve and who will be there.

"And Grammy, and Nancy!" I said. "Fancy Nancy!"

Now, I didn't mean anything by this. Nancy is Lillian's sister, and Fancy Nancy is a little girl who has her own book series that is kind of funny. But the Real Nancy isn't what I would call 'Fancy.' She's a super duper lady, but 'Fancy' isn't one of the words I would use to describe her.

"Is Aunt Nancy fancy?" asked Steve?
"Yes!" said Nathan.
"Is Grammy fancy?" I asked.
"Yes!" he said again.
"How about Gramma?"
"Yes, Gramma's fancy."
"What about Mommy?" Steve asked.
"Yes, Mommy's fancy," he said.
"Well... What about Daddy?" I asked.
"No! Daddy's not fancy. Daddy's COOL!"

DADDY is cool.

But after a few more questions, I noticed a trend.
Mommy is NOT cool, nor is Grammy, Linda, Aunt Anne-E OR Aunt Emily. We are all Fancy.
Uncle Winston is not Fancy, he is cool, as are Mark, Uncle Jamie, and Grampa.

See? This impressed me, as Nathan still says things like "Grammy is going to get a new room in HIS house, and we should call HIM."
So he notices gender differences, even if the reach doesn't go as far as pronouns.

Getting In The Mood

This photo is from Andy's Birthday. See how the big brothers are poised to gently remove the toy from the baby's arms?

Now that we have electricity back, I'm in a MUCH better mood. I only hope they get it back today for the rest of the thousands of people still in the dark.

I love Christmas, and sometimes I can't help but try and get the boys excited , too. SO the other evening I got down on the floor with Nate. "What are you going to get me from Christmas?" I asked him.

He didn't hesitate. "A Wall-E Toy."

"But Nate, You're the one that wants a Wall-E Toy. I don't want a Wall-E toy. You should get me something that I would like, like a picture, or a hair clip."

Nate got really excited. "Yeah! I am gonna get you a hair clip with Butterflies on it!"

I smiled and nodded. "I would love a hair clip with butterflies on it!"

But he went on. "Or I'm gonna get you a hair clip with Mommies on it! And you can put it in your hair!"

"Mommies on it?" I asked.

And with no less excitement he said. "And I can get a hair clip with Nathans on it!"

I laughed. "Nathans?"

"And I can put it in my hair!" He placed his hand delicately on his head. "And then I can be like a Nathan!"

"What are you like now?" I asked.

He looked at me like I was crazy.

"I'm Nathan!" He said.


Oh, of course.

And God Said...

LET THERE BE LIGHT!

And there was.

And then I danced around the kitchen with joy and turned on every single light in the house.

So... I guess I've been a little depressed. This power outage is really bringing me down. I realize some people may be sniggering about my earlier posts about disliking the city, thinking this is soe sort of either retribution, or what you get for living in the boonies. And I could accept that, if I did indeed live in the boonies. However, it took me half an hour to get the boys to school on Wednesday due to traffic. There is not traffic in the boonies. This is a suburb, and should be thought of as such.

I guess I'm a little bitter. I check the PSNH website and find out that 75% of the state has restored power! And all I can think is to ask why oh why we had to be in that remaining 25%. Maybe I'm more bitter when Steve comes home and informs me that our street has power until two intersections away. How did that happen?

What I'm really afraid of is that we'll draw the short straw and be one of the 5% who doesn't get power back by end of day Thursday. In which case I might seriously crawl into bed and ignore the world until I can once again shower and pee in a lighted environment. And I won't feel ridiculous 30 times a day because I reflexively flipped a light switch that should work by now, gosh doarn it!

Anyway, my attention to the power outage is also taking away from reporting on all the cute things my kids are doing and saying. So I apologize. I know I'm depressing and boring and what can any of YOU do about it, anyway. Enough. I shall crawl into my cocoon of darkness alone and send only happy thoughts out over the airwaves. Wither, wither, moan moan, alas, alak... and someone send me brownies.

Happy Birthday Andrew!

Today Andrew is officially one year old. It probably means nothing to him. We already celebrated the event on Sunday. Today is just like any other day. It's cold. It's dark. We have no power. Oh! But it is Snowing!

Yesterday I found a timeline of when power would be expected back, town by town. They had us down for Thursday. Which will make a solid week of running of our precious generator. This is assuming, of course, that we fall into the 95% they need to consider a town "power restored" and also assuming the snow doesn't slow them down at all. Let's all hold our breaths, shall we?

Powerless

We're going on day five of running on the generator.

Sunday we had a little party to decorate the tree and to celebrate Andy's birthday. We picked up a pizza and Lillian brought cupcakes. I was only a little sad I wasn't able to make them myself. The stuff is still sitting in the cupboard.

Yesterday I went to Lillian's and did 4 loads of laundry - at least she did. I helped fold. It should hold us off for the next few days.

I realize that we are lucky. Many people in our situation have no heat at all, no lights at all, no running water at all. They are wrestling with frozen pipes and trees that are in their driveway. They are in hotel rooms or sleeping on couches. We're in our own home, with heat all day, with lights in one room, with computer access, even!

I'm just a bit tired of trying to figure out how to cook dinner without an oven or a stove. Of leaving dishes in the sink because it's too dark to tell when they're clean. Of trying to shove everything I need to do into the daylight hours.

But the Gymnastics place was open today, and I was SO HAPPY to be able to bring the boys somewhere to work off that extra energy.

Punch and Gravy

I know the bopping bag is broken - it never bounces back up.

Check out Nate's cool outfit - PJ's, winter boots, santa hat.

Yes, Nick is shouting "Gravy!"

I am tired today, still have no power, so this is all you get.

Waiting For The Light

We're still powerless... so to speak.

Yesterday I simply could not take it anymore, and had to leave the house to do some holiday shopping. And it wasn't until then that the full impact of the storm hit me.

I expected the store to be out of gas cans and flashlights. I expected it to be crowded. What I didn't expect were the trees.

By now the roads are mostly clear. But there are gaps where trees used to be. Some front lawns on my street look as though the residents went wild with a chainsaw in their front yards. Raw tree branches stick out oddly where limbs were torn off in the wind of by the weight of the ice. ice slivers and spots of greenery spot the road every few yards, marking yet another location a branch fell and blocked the street.

Our town has no traffic lights. Crew members can be spotted lifting felled poles and fixing wires. And every once and awhile you can see a huge branch or tree leaning on wires.

Last night we had Chinese food from our favorite Asian place, which also happened to be without power. The dining room was closed, the employees in sweaters, and the generator powering the kitchen. The bar was busy.

Anyway, driving there in the dark, along the winding roads sprinkled with ice and wood splinters, I got a little spooked. And then, from out of the darkness, lights. Blinking lights, traffic lights, store lights, neon lights... it was like landing at night in Vegas. Suddenly I was so distracted and excited I almost missed my turn.

Maybe the lights will come on now? Now? no. Ok.... now?

And The Band Played On

Yesterday was absolutely beautiful. In the afternoon, the sun came out, and all the ice glistened. I went out to get the mail and realized it had actually stopped raining, and that the rain sounds I was hearing was coming from the stuff falling off tree branches. The floor below the trees looked covered in smashed glass from the ice that fell there.

And then it got dark, and then it got cold.

Today we still have no power. Yesterday evening I visited PSNH's site, where they did due diligence in covering their backsides. This ice storm is SO BAD, it will take days to clean up the mess and restore power. Some say this storm is as bad as the one in 1998, and back then many people were without power 7 to 10 days.

Now, I don't mean to complain. We've got a generator. We're warm. We've got running water, a fridge full of food, and electricity. But it's all in moderation. We've got one outlet in the kitchen that works, and we rotate it between the coffee maker,the microwave, the toaster oven, and a lamp. I can't do laundry the way I used to, so that's building up. I can't run the dishwasher, but I'm optimistic enough to keep stacking dishes in there, thinking that as soon as I wash them by hand the power will probably snap back to life. We skipped baths and showers, and I'm feeling grungy - power or no power, we're washing tonight. And a little TMI, but we've become very relaxed about flushing. We have been listening to the radio, but the TV - one of those flat screen babies - takes WAY too much power, so far rivaled only by the toaster oven(?) and the water pump. Not to mention that the generator goes off at night, so the house gets cold, the baby endsup in our bed, the boys wake up crying because "It's Dark!" and they are scared.

And it's only been one day. And we have a generator.

I somehow think that, if I could just know when the power would turn ON, or if I could just figure out HOW LONG it was going to be, then I could figure stuff out, do the dishes, make things a little more permanent. But as for now we're in a kind of limbo.


As a side note, we were planning on celebrating Andy's first birthday tomorrow, Sunday (even though it's a bit early.) This is funny 'cause the last time we lost power for a number of days was on Nathan's first birthday, and we had no heat or water or electricity at all, and ended up at Lillian's. Coincidence? Or is it the coming of age of little demons that create ice storms? We'll never know.

Huge Ice Storm

We're in the middle of quite an ice storm up here. Our power is out, but it sounds as though a third of the power is out in all of NH. The schools are closed, and they are asking people to stay put. Not so much because of the roads, but because falling branches have blocked off many streets, and people then turn around to find the way they just came has become blocked with large tree branches, and they become trapped.

So we're stuck at home. Thanks goodness the LAST time this happened we were motivated to purchase a generator. We have electricity to the furnace, the well pump, the fridge, and to the living room. We can run the radio, and even watch TV. Steve even managed to hook up the wireless.

Here's why

I know there's no photo in this post. But there's a reason. Today we will be using our imaginations to create our very own individual mental images, and we can carry these around with us anywhere.

Today was the second wet, cold, rainy day in a row. The boys took what I can only describe as a very short nap, and when they woke up I gave them each a chocolate chip cookie and a glass of milk. Then I dug around in one of the Christmas storage boxes and pulled out two santa hats.

Nathan LOVES the Santa hats. He put his on right away, then started his usual afternoon routine, which is running around the house like a maniac, occasionally stopping to ask me if it's TV time. I was folding laundry, and I didn't catch it when he ran upstairs. I did notice him when he returned, however, because he had pyjamas with him.

Nick used to love changing into pyjamas in the middle of the day, too. But Nathan doesn't ask. He just changes. Which is what he did today. Only being Nathan, he didn't change in his room. He ran upstairs, got some pyjamas, and ran back down the stairs. He then proceeded to strip off his clothes until he was naked. All except for the Santa Hat.

This would be funny in and of itself, right? But wait.

Instead of then getting into his pyjamas, the ones he carried downstairs, he decided to put the clothes he took off into his hamper. Which is upstairs. So he picked up his clothing and ran upstairs, naked except for the Santa hat. And I went to grab the camera.

I got a shot of him on the stairs, mid step, Santa hat on head, clothes clutched to his chest.

But I do not post photos of my children unclothed on the internet, despite taking them for my own personal future prom date moments. So you will all have to make do with that mental image.

The Man With The Bag

We went to see Santa.

The first year I took Nick to see Santa, he sat on his lap for exactly three terrified seconds - long enough for the lady to snap his picture - and then cried when I wouldn't let him play with one of the teddy bears they had around Santa's Lair as decoration.

The next year he flatly refused to go.

And last year I got both Nick and Nate to go.

Why do I do this? Why does ANY parent do this? No three year old decides she wants to walk up to Santa and sit on his lap and discuss her behavior and how much she deserves a pony or a Bratz doll. No. A three year old takes one look at Santa and his long white beard, remembers all those songs about how famous he is, and turns around to walk the other way. So what is the point? Why do parents think that taking the time to haul out to the mall, stand in line, and force their child to interact with a scary red guy is a good idea? I will never know.

When we showed up to visit Santa, a boy was crying because he was so frightened, and we had to wait until his mother calmed him down enough to get a good picture. The next little girl didn't cry, but she planted her feet and refused to go into the little - er - den, where Santa keeps his big visiting chair. She also refused to turn around and face the camera, because apparently Santa is scary, and if she turns her back he might bite her.

I was worried about my kids. Because they are all different, and each one might decide at any given moment that the visit wasn't a good idea. I saw crying, tantrums, frightened clinging to my person, and small bodies flinging themselves on the floor. Not to mention the destruction Andy would do to Santa's decorations.

Well, the boys walked right up to Santa and started talking. They told him what they wanted for Christmas and smiled. Except for Andy, no one showed any hesitancy at all. And even Andy was able to sit on the little chair and pose for a picture. You can't see me, but I'm hiding off stage left because Andy kept wanting to get up and take down the decorations.

As we left, the little boy in line behind us began to cry.

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Shopping shopping ARGH

I don't think I have ever had a Holiday shopping season which hasn't involved time spent at THE MALL. When I was young, I did most of my Christmas shopping there. This was the Garden State Plaza, which was huge, but which grew considerably as soon as I left home. To get around in it, you needed a MAP and I am not kidding. Parking during the holiday season meant a long long walk.

When I worked in Cambridge, it was next to a mall. I ate in the food court, and when I could afford it I parked there. So shopping there during lunch was almost inevitable. I need stuff for gifts, the mall has stuff for gifts, easy.

The malls here are much smaller. And yet, when I attempted a shopping trip this weekend, I spent twenty minutes circling the parking lot before giving up. Today I showed up with Andy forty minutes before the mall opened, and walked around with a bunch of elderly people and women with infants. Apparently a lot of people do this to get exercise in the winter, when they can't walk outdoors. Although how they do it without stopping for a donut at the food court I will never know.

Going to the mall (or to other stores) is now second to online shopping for me. However, online shopping also has its drawbacks. For one thing, you can't SEE what you are buying. What looks like a perfectly good item may arrive a different (and unacceptable) color, or three times smaller than you'd imagined. Not to mention shipping charges and the trouble you might or might not run into having to remember login information - every time I order stamps online I have to dig up this old login and password and I JUST WANT STAMPS! Why the heck do I have to have an account to do this?

Anyway, it's only for a few more days. Because then I'm going to have to wrap, and then I'm going to have to figure out how to get these things to the correct people.

Silence

I'm not ignoring you, internet. I just have a lot to do these days. What with holidays and shopping and wrapping and all. Not to mention all the other stuff.

cereal killer

Today after nap I took a good look at Nathan, who happened to be popping out of size 2T jeans, and I noticed how slim he looked to me. Sure, he's still little and has this round little face, but his body is stretching, and he's starting to look more like a boy and less like a toddler.

"Nathan, you're getting to be such a big boy," I said.

"Yes," he replied, "And maybe when I'm gonna be big, I'm gonna get a KNIFE!"

?

He has made comments about knives more than once over the past few days. At first it frightened me, too, especially given his excitable and hysterical and rough nature. Because I pictured a large, sharp, pointy hunting knife. And I thought "No way in hell."

But then I realized he was talking about getting a knife AT THE DINNER TABLE. See, up until recently we didn't give the kids knives. Because we had a hard enough time keeping them from killing each other with the forks. But in the interest of table manners, and also having kids that can cut their own food, I have started setting Nick's place with a knife. And Nathan noticed.

Tonight we threw caution to the wind and gave Nate a knife. We had to take it away once because he was playing with it, dancing his fork and knife together on his plate and letting them have some sort of conversation with each other until he knocked over his milk. But when he got it back he started using it. We had to teach him to use his fork to hold the food while he cut it, because he kept aiming for his fingers. But he learned how to cut up beets very well.

Wishin' and Hopin'

Today we went to the mall and visited Santa.

This post isn't actually about the Santa visit, so the only comment I'll make today is that both boys asked him for Wall-E items. Because they both LOVE Wall-E A LOT, just in case you haven't heard.

Up until today, the boys knew Wall-E existed in film, in video games, and on cupcakes. But until we walked into the Disney Store they hadn't realized they could ask for anything more. The Disney Store had an entire Display dedicated to Wall-E. There were stuffed Wall-E and Eve's, there were big robot Wall-E's, little Wall-E and Eve figurines, and even additional robot figurines. There were Wall-E T-shirts and B&L hampers and even a life sized Wall-E robotic arm. There were Wall-E sneakers.

The boys thought they had died and gone to Wall-E heaven. They wanted everything. They asked for everything. And I had to keep repeating over and over that we weren't there to buy anything for ourselves today. All the while I was cursing Santa, how early he drops everything off at our house, and the limit I asked him to put on toys for the boys this year.

I'm not mentioning this to hint for any holiday gift ideas (but seriously, if you haven't gotten these boys anything, go there.) No, what I'm actually trying to describe is what I was feeling at that moment.

Because I wanted to buy that stuff for them. I wanted to buy them every single Wall-E item in that store. All of it. Without a thought to price, to where we'd put it, to how good it would be for them. I wanted to give it to them. To dazzle them with the glittery princess shoes and sneak the saleslady my credit card number so that come Christmas morning our house would be taken over with tiny robot figuringes.

Why? Well, I suppose because they are my children, and I want to see them happy and give them what they want. I think most of us feel this way about anyone we love when we see their eyes light up. The boys were SO excited it was just too easy to get caught up in it all. It would have been so easy to boy them each one thing...

But I didn't. And as of yet I have no intention of returning to that store. Because as much as I want to give them everything, I know that it isn't good for them, in the long run. Because life isn't like that. Be that as it may, I just want to say that I understand the impulse to spoil children. I understand how and why this happens. It's harder than you think to say no.



but seriously, you guys can spoil them all you want. get them a Wall-E.



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Move it!

I took a break from working out over Thanksgiving. And to be honest with you, my workouts before Thanksgiving week were not what you might call "regular." No. "Sporadic" might be a better word. "Occasional" is another. But the workouts themselves were good ones (mostly) and I gradually increased the distance I was running.

This week I finally reached 5 miles - no, not a grand total, a workout total. I think that's quite a distance, even on the treadmill. Not only that, but today makes the first time I've worked out three days in a row in... since I can't remember. (Technically, Tuesday I only ran 5K. But give me a break - I was still in recovery from the day before.)

So... hooray for me!

In honor of me working out, enjoy the photo of Winston doing the dishes.

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Baby Clothes

Today I went through Andy's clothes again. I was adding the 18 months clothes and putting away the 9 month stuff and the smaller 12 month stuff that's been through the dryer too many times.

Doing this I realized just how many clothes the boys had when they were little. Andy has dozens of outfits in his dresser right now. Not only did I buy him clothes, but everyone else seemed to want to buy him clothes, too. Because toddler clothes, like baby clothes, are very cute. And then when Nate got to be that size he got a few items, as well. These days Nick and Nate have just enough clothes to get them through the week, and there are some days - if I'm behind on laundry and there have been a few costume changes - where I end up stuffing someone into a pair of pants one size too small.

Putting Andy's things away made me kind of sad, though. Because once I get all of those little clothes into storage I will probably never need to look at them again.

Evil Inside

The only thing better than being an evil mother is listening to your kids relate to each other about how evil you are. For example, this afternoon Nathan, who had not napped, ran up to me and asked me for an orange. "I'm sorry, I had to throw the clementines away because they were rotten," I said.

Nate persevered and said "Then I am gonna have an apple."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, but I didn't get any apples today." How rude of me.

Nathan was overcome with frustration, and ran away in tears. I then heard him talking to Nick in the next room. "Mommy said 'No, Apple, Nate!' Because she didn't get any!"

I laughed to myself because... well, it's just funny to hear. Here he is, telling on me and my harsh mother like rules, such as " you can't have what we do not have." And then Nicholas said - in the tone of voice that clearly meant his brother was SO LAME "Then just go get a banana."

"OK!" Nate exclaimed cheerfully, and came back out to get a banana, which we had plenty of. He finished it before his tears were dry on his cheeks.