Me (after watching one of the girls trip over a plastic gun):
"Whose gun is on the floor?"
Nicholas:
"I farted."
Clearly, we have a breakdown in communication.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Beware of conversations with a 9-year-old boy
Me (after watching one of the girls trip over a plastic gun):
"Whose gun is on the floor?"
Nicholas:
"I farted."
Clearly, we have a breakdown in communication.
Friday, December 11, 2009
You say it's your birthday....
41?
Is that even possible? When we met, you were barely 24. Remember how I threw that little surprise 25th birthday party for you in Cagney's on Steinway Street? That was 16 years ago!
Well, in case you didn't hear me the other 83 times I said it today, Happy Birthday. I look forward to spending many more of these birthdays with you.
* * * * * * * * *
I don't think it's any secret that I can easily put my thoughts into written words. For as far back as I can remember, I've been able to write. (Speaking? Is another matter entirely. My mouth generally cannot form a coherent thought. I have a habit of leaving people slack-jawed as they contemplate, "Did she seriously just say THAT?")
And yet, there's one topic that eludes me. It's a subject that rolls around in my head like an oiled bowling ball that I can't get a good grip on. Even now, I'm staring at my computer wishing a magical genie would put the words down for me.
Most of the thoughts I come up with make me gag.
You're the light of my life and your love leaves me speechless.
Ew. I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.
In our 16 years together, I've purchased countless greeting cards and painstakingly wrote my own personalized message in each one. When I go back to read them, I cringe. Thank heaven I married a man who is un-sentimental about such things....he's thrown most of them away.
And I finally learned my lesson. I don't buy cards. Neither does he. (So stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Hallmark.)
I know, in my gut...in my heart...in the deep recesses of my brain, that actions speak louder than words, anyway. So why am I trying so hard to find the words?
I don't know.
Maybe it's because I'm so lucky and so blessed that I want to shout from the rooftops.
Maybe it's because the newspapers are chock-full of philandering dimwits like Tiger Woods and I want to keep that poison from infecting us.
Maybe it's because I never want a day to pass in which I didn't show or tell my husband how much he means to me.
I just feel like there should be SOME way to say it. There should be some words. But I can't find them.
I don't have any fancy way to say it......
I can't imagine being such a sap for anyone else but you!
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Happy 41st birthday...
to the best husband...
father...
friend...
partner.
I'm so glad you're on my team.
Is that even possible? When we met, you were barely 24. Remember how I threw that little surprise 25th birthday party for you in Cagney's on Steinway Street? That was 16 years ago!
Well, in case you didn't hear me the other 83 times I said it today, Happy Birthday. I look forward to spending many more of these birthdays with you.
* * * * * * * * *
I don't think it's any secret that I can easily put my thoughts into written words. For as far back as I can remember, I've been able to write. (Speaking? Is another matter entirely. My mouth generally cannot form a coherent thought. I have a habit of leaving people slack-jawed as they contemplate, "Did she seriously just say THAT?")
And yet, there's one topic that eludes me. It's a subject that rolls around in my head like an oiled bowling ball that I can't get a good grip on. Even now, I'm staring at my computer wishing a magical genie would put the words down for me.
Most of the thoughts I come up with make me gag.
You're the light of my life and your love leaves me speechless.
Ew. I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.
In our 16 years together, I've purchased countless greeting cards and painstakingly wrote my own personalized message in each one. When I go back to read them, I cringe. Thank heaven I married a man who is un-sentimental about such things....he's thrown most of them away.
And I finally learned my lesson. I don't buy cards. Neither does he. (So stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Hallmark.)
I know, in my gut...in my heart...in the deep recesses of my brain, that actions speak louder than words, anyway. So why am I trying so hard to find the words?
I don't know.
Maybe it's because I'm so lucky and so blessed that I want to shout from the rooftops.
Maybe it's because the newspapers are chock-full of philandering dimwits like Tiger Woods and I want to keep that poison from infecting us.
Maybe it's because I never want a day to pass in which I didn't show or tell my husband how much he means to me.
I just feel like there should be SOME way to say it. There should be some words. But I can't find them.
I don't have any fancy way to say it......
I can't imagine being such a sap for anyone else but you!
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Happy 41st birthday...
to the best husband...
father...
friend...
partner.
I'm so glad you're on my team.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
That's what friends are for
There's an idea that's been rattling around my head for many months now. It's a concept that I forget about from time to time, but eventually I come back to it.
It's like I have a blindfold on and I'm in a big empty room. Most of the time I wander around aimlessly in this room, alone, forgetting that the walls are there. But eventually, I bang into something and I'm reminded that, "DUH! There's that wall again."
Somehow, in my brain, that analogy does make sense. Doesn't always translate to the written word, however.
Anyway.
The concept I'm talking about is community. That's the word (or the walls) that I always come back to. You know the phrase "sink or swim"? Without the help of a community, I can safely say I would sink. After parenting for 9 1/2 years.....I KNOW that I would sink.
I am a hugely independent person. I pride myself on this independence. Yet I don't honestly believe that parenting is a job that can be done alone (by myself or anyone else, for that matter). There is a sense of well-being and peace that comes with knowing there are people around who are on my team. Your community might consist of your siblings, neighbors, friends, church members, or anyone else who is interested in the well-being of your family. Mine grows a little more every year as I meet more and more parents from our school.
Today, this concept was front-and-center again. My boys had a half-day of school, due to parent teacher conferences. They got out at 11:20. Alexa was in school and she got out at 11:30. Their schools are 15 minutes apart....when it's not pouring rain. Which it WAS today. So when I dropped Alexa off, I asked Mrs. A if she could bring her home for me. Alexa was thrilled because she adores Mrs. A's little girl. If not for her help, I would have needed to pull the boys out early so we could make it to Alexa's school on time. Or Alexa would need to sit with her teacher and wait for us to get there.
(And the best part? Mrs. A's daughter will be going to our elementary school and they live only a few blocks from here, so I know we'll continue to be in contact for many years....helping each other as needed.)
We had a busy afternoon lined up and I called on Mrs. L to see if she could do me a favor. Nick was coming home from work early so we could attend conferences at 1:30 and 1:45 and then take Benjamin to a follow-up appointment at the pediatrician. The boys are very good at sitting quietly during all of this. And Rachel is such a shy Momma's girl that I know she'll sit quietly on my lap. Alexa, however, is the unpredictable variable.
"Mom. I have to go potty."
"Mom. I'm thirsty."
"Mom. Did you bring anything to eat?"
"Mom. I'm thirrrrsty."
"Mom. When can we go home?"
"MOM! Iiiiii'm thirrrrrrsty!"
So Mrs. L and her 2 children entertained Alexa for the afternoon. I could hardly contain my happiness.
Need more examples of how priceless and necessary-as-the-air-we-breathe this idea is?
After Alexa was born in December of 2005, my mother stayed with us for a month. Besides saving our sorry butts from the Laundry Pile of Doom, she walked Nicholas to and from school every day. When she left at the end of January, I was faced with the task of walking to school twice a day, in the bitter cold, with an infant Alexa and Benjamin (who was 3 1/2 at the time). Our friends, Mr. and Mrs. T, stepped in and offered to walk with Nicholas every day until the weather brought warmer temps. My mother, Mr. T, and Mrs. T all came to my aid in the same way when Rachel was born in April of 2007.
We've also managed to save money by relying on our circle of family and friends. My sister-in-law gave me her crib when Rachel was born. Alexa was only 16 months old at the time and not ready to move out of her crib yet. The same sister-in-law lent me her double stroller for the girls. My neighbor's daughter lent us another, larger double stroller when the girls got bigger. Mr. and Mrs. T gave us the bike and scooter that their girls outgrew. We've received hand-me-down clothing for the kids.
And do you know what I enjoy most in this whole thing? When I'm able to pay it forward. I've passed along countless bins of maternity and baby clothing, a swing, a playpen, an infant car seat, a booster seat, a bike, a scooter, a vacuum, a recliner, a leather loveseat....the list goes on and on. When Mr. and Mrs. S when away for an anniversary weekend, their son stayed with us from Friday afternoon to Sunday morning. When our neighbors went to Florida for a wedding, their adorable mini-Schnauzer stayed with us for the weekend. When my mother stayed with us and mentioned how she'd love to see a Broadway show, I gave her tickets to see "Chicago" for Mother's Day.
So is this what it means to become older and wiser? This sort of give-and-take can't possibly be a new thing in my life, right?
I think it's always been there, but I haven't always been this aware of it.
Well if this is the sort of wisdom that comes with age, then I'm thrilled to be another year older soon.
I'm excited to see what other things I'll be learning.
It's like I have a blindfold on and I'm in a big empty room. Most of the time I wander around aimlessly in this room, alone, forgetting that the walls are there. But eventually, I bang into something and I'm reminded that, "DUH! There's that wall again."
Somehow, in my brain, that analogy does make sense. Doesn't always translate to the written word, however.
Anyway.
The concept I'm talking about is community. That's the word (or the walls) that I always come back to. You know the phrase "sink or swim"? Without the help of a community, I can safely say I would sink. After parenting for 9 1/2 years.....I KNOW that I would sink.
I am a hugely independent person. I pride myself on this independence. Yet I don't honestly believe that parenting is a job that can be done alone (by myself or anyone else, for that matter). There is a sense of well-being and peace that comes with knowing there are people around who are on my team. Your community might consist of your siblings, neighbors, friends, church members, or anyone else who is interested in the well-being of your family. Mine grows a little more every year as I meet more and more parents from our school.
Today, this concept was front-and-center again. My boys had a half-day of school, due to parent teacher conferences. They got out at 11:20. Alexa was in school and she got out at 11:30. Their schools are 15 minutes apart....when it's not pouring rain. Which it WAS today. So when I dropped Alexa off, I asked Mrs. A if she could bring her home for me. Alexa was thrilled because she adores Mrs. A's little girl. If not for her help, I would have needed to pull the boys out early so we could make it to Alexa's school on time. Or Alexa would need to sit with her teacher and wait for us to get there.
(And the best part? Mrs. A's daughter will be going to our elementary school and they live only a few blocks from here, so I know we'll continue to be in contact for many years....helping each other as needed.)
We had a busy afternoon lined up and I called on Mrs. L to see if she could do me a favor. Nick was coming home from work early so we could attend conferences at 1:30 and 1:45 and then take Benjamin to a follow-up appointment at the pediatrician. The boys are very good at sitting quietly during all of this. And Rachel is such a shy Momma's girl that I know she'll sit quietly on my lap. Alexa, however, is the unpredictable variable.
"Mom. I have to go potty."
"Mom. I'm thirsty."
"Mom. Did you bring anything to eat?"
"Mom. I'm thirrrrsty."
"Mom. When can we go home?"
"MOM! Iiiiii'm thirrrrrrsty!"
So Mrs. L and her 2 children entertained Alexa for the afternoon. I could hardly contain my happiness.
Need more examples of how priceless and necessary-as-the-air-we-breathe this idea is?
After Alexa was born in December of 2005, my mother stayed with us for a month. Besides saving our sorry butts from the Laundry Pile of Doom, she walked Nicholas to and from school every day. When she left at the end of January, I was faced with the task of walking to school twice a day, in the bitter cold, with an infant Alexa and Benjamin (who was 3 1/2 at the time). Our friends, Mr. and Mrs. T, stepped in and offered to walk with Nicholas every day until the weather brought warmer temps. My mother, Mr. T, and Mrs. T all came to my aid in the same way when Rachel was born in April of 2007.
We've also managed to save money by relying on our circle of family and friends. My sister-in-law gave me her crib when Rachel was born. Alexa was only 16 months old at the time and not ready to move out of her crib yet. The same sister-in-law lent me her double stroller for the girls. My neighbor's daughter lent us another, larger double stroller when the girls got bigger. Mr. and Mrs. T gave us the bike and scooter that their girls outgrew. We've received hand-me-down clothing for the kids.
And do you know what I enjoy most in this whole thing? When I'm able to pay it forward. I've passed along countless bins of maternity and baby clothing, a swing, a playpen, an infant car seat, a booster seat, a bike, a scooter, a vacuum, a recliner, a leather loveseat....the list goes on and on. When Mr. and Mrs. S when away for an anniversary weekend, their son stayed with us from Friday afternoon to Sunday morning. When our neighbors went to Florida for a wedding, their adorable mini-Schnauzer stayed with us for the weekend. When my mother stayed with us and mentioned how she'd love to see a Broadway show, I gave her tickets to see "Chicago" for Mother's Day.
So is this what it means to become older and wiser? This sort of give-and-take can't possibly be a new thing in my life, right?
I think it's always been there, but I haven't always been this aware of it.
Well if this is the sort of wisdom that comes with age, then I'm thrilled to be another year older soon.
I'm excited to see what other things I'll be learning.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
We Are The Champions, My Friend!
Today, among the millions of other blessings in my life, I count technology as one of the things I am most thankful for.
How else would I be able to share this with you, less than 2 hours after the game ended:
So call me superficial, if you'd like. But thanks to a digital camera, a memory card, a computer, and the internet, I'm able to share my son's 9-2 roller hockey victory (and to brag for a moment about his 3 goals. That's called a hat trick, I'm told. I do not speak the language of sports.). Not shabby, considering his team only won 1 game in their last season!
So, to the Wide World of Technology, this is one Momma who is sending you a big sloppy kiss on the cheek. *muah!*
How else would I be able to share this with you, less than 2 hours after the game ended:
So call me superficial, if you'd like. But thanks to a digital camera, a memory card, a computer, and the internet, I'm able to share my son's 9-2 roller hockey victory (and to brag for a moment about his 3 goals. That's called a hat trick, I'm told. I do not speak the language of sports.). Not shabby, considering his team only won 1 game in their last season!
So, to the Wide World of Technology, this is one Momma who is sending you a big sloppy kiss on the cheek. *muah!*
Monday, November 30, 2009
Two trailer park girls go round the outside
I'm being tortured.
By my own brain.
For the last week (yes, the entire week), I've had a song stuck in my head. The same song, all. stinking. week. long.
Can you just hand me that soup spoon over there? I'm gonna gouge out my ears. Oh...wait. That won't help cuz the song will still be rolling around inside my brain. Hm. If I stick my finger in a power outlet, do you think that would ZAP the song out?
Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes. So to add insult to injury, the song in question isn't some respectable little ditty like "Oh, When the Saints Go Marching In". Noooo.
I'm stuck on Eminem's "Without Me."
Really? Would that be considered Gansta Rap? And why does using the word gansta make me feel like a big dorka?
So infecting my brain, I have lyrics like this:
"Now this looks like a job for me
So everybody, just follow me
Cause we need a little, controversy
Cause it feels so empty, without me."
That's just about all I can quote cuz the rest of the song is, well, not so family friendly. In fact, when I read through the lyrics, I'm mildly horrified and I make a mental note to skip over this song when I'm listening to my iPod with the kids in the van.
Am I trying to relive some hip youth (which I never really had in the first place. Me? Hip? AHAHAHA! That's a good one!) by having this little gem on my iPod? Uh...no. I'm painfully aware that a 35-year-old stay-at-home-mom is not exactly part of Eminem's targeted demographic.
Believe it or not, I have a sentimental attachment to this song. (Can you stop laughing long enough for me to explain?!)
Way back in June of 2002, I had a 3-week-old baby boy named Benjamin who liked to get up several times a night for his bottle. During these feedings, I used the tv for company. His early-morning feeding was normally around 5am-ish. So every morning, I brought him downstairs, warmed the bottle, and we settled into the recliner with the remote nearby.
At that time, VH1 ran a show in the morning called (I think) "Cardio-Video". I believe the idea was that people could use these songs to accompany their workouts (at this un-godly hour of the morning?! Who DOES that?).
So every morning, I turned on Cardio-Video and nearly every morning, "Without Me" was on. It grew on me. Plus, the video is funny. Make me laugh at 5am and I'm ALL YOURS.
Yeah. You can relax. I'm not going to suddenly shave my head and show up with my pants hanging off my behind, sporting a "Gansta 4 Life" tattoo on the back of my neck.
I just enjoy the memory of sitting in the recliner with my new little boy. Listening to him gulp down his bottle. Kissing his long, wrinkly fingers and toes. Running my hands over his whispy hair. Patting his back and cracking up over the giant burps that his tiny body produced.
That was over 7 years ago and my tiny, wrinkly boy is a 2nd grader. So if it takes Eminem to remind me of the early days, so be it. Thanks a million, Marshal Mathers!
* * * * * * * * *
On an unrelated note:
I had to share these 2 photos with you. I took the girls with me last week to run some errands. Alexa said she was "huuuuungryyyyyyy", so I gave her a bag of goldfish to snack on. She fell asleep on the way home with her hand inside the bag.
Tired vs. hungry?
Apparently tired won.
By my own brain.
For the last week (yes, the entire week), I've had a song stuck in my head. The same song, all. stinking. week. long.
Can you just hand me that soup spoon over there? I'm gonna gouge out my ears. Oh...wait. That won't help cuz the song will still be rolling around inside my brain. Hm. If I stick my finger in a power outlet, do you think that would ZAP the song out?
Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes. So to add insult to injury, the song in question isn't some respectable little ditty like "Oh, When the Saints Go Marching In". Noooo.
I'm stuck on Eminem's "Without Me."
Really? Would that be considered Gansta Rap? And why does using the word gansta make me feel like a big dorka?
So infecting my brain, I have lyrics like this:
"Now this looks like a job for me
So everybody, just follow me
Cause we need a little, controversy
Cause it feels so empty, without me."
That's just about all I can quote cuz the rest of the song is, well, not so family friendly. In fact, when I read through the lyrics, I'm mildly horrified and I make a mental note to skip over this song when I'm listening to my iPod with the kids in the van.
Am I trying to relive some hip youth (which I never really had in the first place. Me? Hip? AHAHAHA! That's a good one!) by having this little gem on my iPod? Uh...no. I'm painfully aware that a 35-year-old stay-at-home-mom is not exactly part of Eminem's targeted demographic.
Believe it or not, I have a sentimental attachment to this song. (Can you stop laughing long enough for me to explain?!)
Way back in June of 2002, I had a 3-week-old baby boy named Benjamin who liked to get up several times a night for his bottle. During these feedings, I used the tv for company. His early-morning feeding was normally around 5am-ish. So every morning, I brought him downstairs, warmed the bottle, and we settled into the recliner with the remote nearby.
At that time, VH1 ran a show in the morning called (I think) "Cardio-Video". I believe the idea was that people could use these songs to accompany their workouts (at this un-godly hour of the morning?! Who DOES that?).
So every morning, I turned on Cardio-Video and nearly every morning, "Without Me" was on. It grew on me. Plus, the video is funny. Make me laugh at 5am and I'm ALL YOURS.
Yeah. You can relax. I'm not going to suddenly shave my head and show up with my pants hanging off my behind, sporting a "Gansta 4 Life" tattoo on the back of my neck.
I just enjoy the memory of sitting in the recliner with my new little boy. Listening to him gulp down his bottle. Kissing his long, wrinkly fingers and toes. Running my hands over his whispy hair. Patting his back and cracking up over the giant burps that his tiny body produced.
That was over 7 years ago and my tiny, wrinkly boy is a 2nd grader. So if it takes Eminem to remind me of the early days, so be it. Thanks a million, Marshal Mathers!
* * * * * * * * *
On an unrelated note:
I had to share these 2 photos with you. I took the girls with me last week to run some errands. Alexa said she was "huuuuungryyyyyyy", so I gave her a bag of goldfish to snack on. She fell asleep on the way home with her hand inside the bag.
Tired vs. hungry?
Apparently tired won.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Oops, I did it again
The Husband's 41st birthday is coming up soon. (Is that even possible?! I met him when he was a whopping 24 years old.)
When I got my Shiny! New! Calendar! at the end of 2008, I immediately filled in the family birthdays. I wrote it on the correct day, in red marker, and colored over it with highlighter. These are very important days in our house and I wanted to make them really stand out.
As the keeper of all family information, you'd think I'd know my own husband's correct date of birth.
You'd be wrong.
Exhibit A:
His birthday is on the 11th. Not the 1oth.
I don't think I'll live this one down any time soon.
* * * * * * *
Please make me feel better. Share with me your recent acts of sheer stupidity. Please? PLEASE?!
When I got my Shiny! New! Calendar! at the end of 2008, I immediately filled in the family birthdays. I wrote it on the correct day, in red marker, and colored over it with highlighter. These are very important days in our house and I wanted to make them really stand out.
As the keeper of all family information, you'd think I'd know my own husband's correct date of birth.
You'd be wrong.
Exhibit A:
His birthday is on the 11th. Not the 1oth.
I don't think I'll live this one down any time soon.
* * * * * * *
Please make me feel better. Share with me your recent acts of sheer stupidity. Please? PLEASE?!
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Share the Wealth
Hi, Family and Friends!
I have every intention of putting together a belated Thanksgiving post....as soon as I'm feeling human again. The Husband and I have matching cases of strep throat this weekend and child #3 went to bed last night, at 7pm, with a slight fever. The good times never end 'round here. You're so jealous of our awesomeness, aren't you?
In the meantime, I'm going to share a link to one of my favorite bloggers. I know lots of you are my family and friends, so you're here to read only because you know me. You're probably not terribly interested in reading the adventures of someone you don't know. A handful of you, however, are new bloggers like me. You might enjoy reading someone else's work now and then...especially when the writer's block sets in.
Her name is Stacey and she is a stay-at-home Momma with 4 very small children. She is one of the people who inspired me to start my own blog, although she doesn't know that. She has a way of creating eloquent, moving posts out of the most mundane parts of motherhood. You can find her over here. In case that link doesn't work, her blog address is www.anymommyoutthere.com.
* * * * * * * * *
For the rest of you, I apologize for my illness-induced silence. As a peace offering, here are some pics of the kids:
In the backyard, on our swingset:
My budding photographer:
My strong, silent one:
The one who loves the camera:
GO, AGGIES!
I have every intention of putting together a belated Thanksgiving post....as soon as I'm feeling human again. The Husband and I have matching cases of strep throat this weekend and child #3 went to bed last night, at 7pm, with a slight fever. The good times never end 'round here. You're so jealous of our awesomeness, aren't you?
In the meantime, I'm going to share a link to one of my favorite bloggers. I know lots of you are my family and friends, so you're here to read only because you know me. You're probably not terribly interested in reading the adventures of someone you don't know. A handful of you, however, are new bloggers like me. You might enjoy reading someone else's work now and then...especially when the writer's block sets in.
Her name is Stacey and she is a stay-at-home Momma with 4 very small children. She is one of the people who inspired me to start my own blog, although she doesn't know that. She has a way of creating eloquent, moving posts out of the most mundane parts of motherhood. You can find her over here. In case that link doesn't work, her blog address is www.anymommyoutthere.com.
* * * * * * * * *
For the rest of you, I apologize for my illness-induced silence. As a peace offering, here are some pics of the kids:
In the backyard, on our swingset:
My budding photographer:
My strong, silent one:
The one who loves the camera:
GO, AGGIES!
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