Category Archives: silliness

So many thinks to think . . .

and not a think to write.

My Boy has been home sick since yesterday around 11:00.  The phone rang around 10:35, and my caller ID said, Name of School.  And the school’s just not whom you want to hear from in the middle of the day.  Particularly when your pre-K-kid is in the bathtub and you have a massage scheduled for 100 minutes hence.  I told the nurse she must have some sort of complex because no one is happy to hear from her in the middle of the day.

So, I picked up my Boy from school.  After, of course, shooing the ever-so-easy-going Ruth out of the bathtub ahead of schedule, brushing and drying her hair as quickly as possible, skipping over the waiting-for-the-van, marathon bubble-blowing session to which we’ve grown accustomed, and rushing her over to the school twenty minutes before she was set to arrive for her own school day.  Poor Boy was green.  Thankfully, the nurse–who really is a lovely woman–offered to take Ruth to sit with her sister in the cafeteria until it was time for her school day to start, so that I didn’t have to drive her home simply to buckle her into the school van approximately 85 seconds later.

So, poor green Boy.  So sad.  So very sad.  My Boy is supposed to be full of energy and intensity, not lying like a lump on the couch.  So sad.

A good mother would end the post there.  But I make no claims about being a good, conscientious mother.  This mother, while sad for her poor, sick boy, is also sad for her poor lazy self.  I really wanted that massage I had scheduled yesterday.  I already payed for it with a Groupon-like thing.  And I waited for just the right day for it.  And yesterday was it.  And then it wasn’t.  And then, today I was desperate to just hang out by myself for a while, and my poor Boy is green once again.  So sad!  So sad for poor green Boy who loves food, but whose food is now playing tricks on him and seeking to jump right back out after it’s swallowed.  And poor, lousy, selfish mother who’d like to sit in silence for a while, to stew in her own frantic thinkings about major life changes and class schedules and childcare for two hours each of two afternoons a week . . .

Run on sentences.  They be my thang.

Poor green Boy appears to be less green now.  Actually he looks quite pink.  And he’s now enthusiastically looking at pictures of the Titanic in National Geographic.  I think he’s all better.  And I’m glad.  Because this is my Boy:  enthusiastic, full of non-fiction tidbits, and wild speculation.  That’s better.

I’ll think my thinks tomorrow.  Oh.  Never mind.  I won’t.  Ruth has no school tomorrow and the kids who do go to school will be home a little after 1PM.  I’ll think my thinks next week.  For, after all, next week is another week.

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Filed under being The Mommy, Isaac, Ministry of Reality, SAHM, sick kid, silliness

This time I mean it . . .

I’m just writing to write.  Really.  Really really.  I would not be doing it except I really have committed to doing it every day.  Maybe I need a funny story.  What happened to all my funny stories?  What happened to all the coffee?  I’m a full-fledged addict now, I’ll have you know.  I neeeeed it.  Every morning and sometimes again later.  Now, it’s all about the dance between Ry and me to see which one of us can convince the other one to make it.  I’ve used my womanly ways.  I admit it.  I’m not above it.  And he’ll generally bribe me with childcare.  Like potty duty.

Speaking of potty duty . . . (not to be confused with potty dooty, though, you know, sometimes there’s not much difference.)  Ruthie is driving me batty with the whole potty thing.  I mean, sure, yeah yeah, I’ve earned it.  Because my first two were relatively easy.  The second one was super easy, taking it upon herself to master the skill when she was precisely 2.5.  Isaac took a bizarre and, at times, disgusting week to accomplish that milestone at 3.5.  And, true to her split-the-difference form, Ruthie’s coming into her potty mastery at the age of 3.  I hope she’ll be all done in the next two months, anyway.

Meanwhile . . . good grief!  Varying levels of commitment to say the least.  Really, yesterday it was more like she was just wearing cloth diapers instead of the super thick gotchies she had on.  She doesn’t pee all the way through them, but she pees in every one of them.  By the end of the day, she was just squealing, “Oo!  I peed in my diapah!” as she kicked her undies off her foot, watching it flip through the air.  Lovely, really.

But, all in all, as long as I take her to the bathroom like every 45 minutes, she’s OK.  Yes, I know that makes me the one who is “trained,” but it also makes me the one who, after nearly 8 years, is completely diaper free during the day.  Yes, it is every bit my milestone as Ruthie’s so I’m fine that I’m the one who’s trained.

So, there ya have it.  My funny story.  Except tonight it wasn’t funny.  Tonight we went to a community Lenten service, all five of us.  Ry was preaching and I was hanging out with the kids.  I took Ruthie to the restroom before the service began.  You know, to empty out and minimize the risk of wet drawers.  And then the child declared she had to use the bathroom at least 4 more times during the 40 minute service.  I kid you not.  But, you know, she’s at that stage . . . where sometimes she doesn’t truly take the time to empty her bladder, so she’s doing it in installments, or, possibly she’s got some other issues going on.  So, really, you feel like you must take her.  Even though most of you knows that she’s just discovered an ingenious way to get up and walk around for a while and use the really cool soap dispenser with a blinky light (who knew?!).  But still.  You go.  Because a big gross mess is at stake.

So, sadly I missed my husband’s second sermon for the day and I really think it was a good one.  Maybe he’ll read it to me later.  Or maybe we’ll collapse on the couch in a heap and split the rest of the bottle of Riesling.  Tough choice.

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Filed under being The Mommy, Family Life, milestones, Ruth, silliness

This is what I woke up to this morning . . .

Not a ton.  But a lovely, lovely start.

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Filed under silliness

SNOW!

YAY!!  Yes, yes, I know.  Some of my friends have had more than their fill of snow this year, as their region has been hammered by snow, far more than their public resources can handle.  Some of them hate snow.  Some of them live in places that don’t normally get snow, but have had plenty this year.  (For some, both of those last two sentences apply.)  As February draws into its final days, most everyone I know is desperate for winter to come to an end.

But not me.

I feel totally gypped this year.  We’ve had very little snow this year.  Sure, we had some in October and that’s always fun.  But really, it’s been very light on the snow this year.  Lots of dustings, but no blizzards, no twelve to twenty-four inches.  A measly four or five a couple times.  Meanwhile, so many of my friends have been having snow.  My Philly and Jersey friends have been flattened.  More snow than can possibly fit in the city or in all of Central Jersey.  Then, DC friends.  Far, far too much snow for that poor city.  And there’s even been snow for my friends in South Carolina.  Come ON!  And now.  And NOW!  I read the facebook status of my friend in Austin, Texas, and she’s getting snow??!!!  Not fair!  She doesn’t even want it!

All these storms, I continue to say, “Where’s my snow?  Why don’t I have any snow??!”  I am not prepared to deal with that.

And now.  Today.  This week.  Snow.  Glorious, wet, snowman building, snowball chucking, looks like chicken feathers falling from the sky. . . snow! And I couldn’t be more excited.  I can’t even get a clear word on how much we’re supposed to get.  It seems to be several storms going through over the course of the week, I’ve heard as much as 18 inches all told.  I’ll take it.  Sure, I’d love three feet.  But I’ll take it.

And when my beloved husband grumped about the snow this morning, I grumped right back.  “It’s February! It’s still winter!! I am allowed to have snow in February without anyone subjecting me to their whining.  You can start whining in March, even though winter’s not officially over until the end of March.  I’m being generous.  Let me have my snow!!!”

I might have gotten carried away there.  A bit.

But it’s snowing, and I’m drunk on excitement.  I can’t be held responsible for my actions.

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Another day, another . . .

I’m not really sure.  Certainly not a dollar.  Um.  Another kiss from a kid?  Another toddler freak-out?

I’m presently watching Ruthie do a toddler dance to the “Easter Bunny Hop” from the Veggie Tales Easter CD.  It’s very hip-hop-ish.  A song by Boyz in the Sink, for those in the know.

. . . . . .

Of course, that was two hours ago.  🙂  I was interrupted and then completely derailed.  Today I am reflecting on the fact that my husband now has two jobs.  The church thing.  And the National Guard thing.  He had about 6 phone calls this morning, all before 11AM.  Some church, some guard.  And this is his day off.  I’m laughing as I write this, be sure to hear it.  But really, I don’t think I’ve thought much about the fact that he now has a second job.  I mean, most of his work is done in one weekend a month, but soldiers can still call him and get in touch with him with questions or requests any day of the week.  So there it is.

Lots of changes around here.  More work for me, more work for him, three kids.  It’s all good.  It’s all very good.

Is it possible that I’m going to have two days in a row with no theologizing coming forth from my fingers?  Yes.  Yes I think it’s happening.  I must be tired.  I’ll go find some pictures I can include here, just for entertainment purposes.  If I can’t make you think, at least I’ll make you smile.

These are some selections from the “photo shoot” I had with Hannah and Ruth back in the fall.  These were their new, coordinating outfits.  Hannah insisted on making it a photo shoot, being quite the model.  Ruthie just wanted to eat her bag of bunnies.  This is just such a fun representation of my two, very different, girls.

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Filed under Hannah, Ruth, silliness, sisters

Coffee post time?

So I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been preaching more lately or what, but I don’t seem to be having the deep thoughts lately.  But I still want to write some bloggy stuff.  Sooo . . .

Haven’t had a coffee post in a while.  What the heck?  How’s about another?

So I think coffee is rotting a hole in my stomach.  Or totally demolishing that little muscle–whatever she may be–at the top of my stomach.  You know, the one that’s supposed to stay closed to keep the food and acid and general yuck down in my stomach where it belongs?  Something is going horribly awry with my stomach.  And I’m suddenly suspecting the coffee.

No one warned me.  My dear husband who encouraged me to drink coffee, strongly encouraged, cajoled, dare I say? pushed me to drink coffee over the course of 17 years never told me it would rot my stomach out.  Has it been his secret plot all along to get me to join him in his stomach woes?

To this point I’ve had stomach of steel.  I’m of good, fine Lithuanian stock.  Our stomachs can handle diets of nothing but potatoes, sour cream and bacon.  I can eat what I want, how I want, when I want with nary a second thought.  But now.  Suddenly. . . . yick.

I blame the coffee.

I share my fears, my woes, my pain, my concern with my dearly beloved.  And what does he say?  “You just have to push through this uncomfortable time, till those nerve endings in your lower esophagus become deadened by the acid and you no longer feel anything there and then once again you can eat and drink anything you want.”

OK then.  As long as the man’s got a system.  I’m going to have to think about this . . .

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Filed under Coffee, silliness

Funny kids say funny things . . .

I think it’s been a little while since I’ve had a funny kids post. And I’ve had little of significance to write about for the last several days, so I thought I’d write about significant little things. Which, you know, is pretty much the biggest story of my life these days: trying to savor all the little, teeny-tiny, mundane things beautiful life with beautiful little children brings in abundance. Knowing that this stage of life will be gone in a flash, I want to try to not get bogged down in the frustrating junk, the relentless cycle of dirty-clean-dirty-clean, wash-brush-dress-eat-play-eat-play-eat-undress-brush-wash, just-keep-swimming, that is the other big story of my life these days.

So. A moment to pause. And chuckle at my silly kids.

Heard in the kitchen last week: A fly was buzzing around the kitchen, in fact, there were lots of flies buzzing around last week, not sure why, but there we were in the kitchen with a buzzing fly. Hannah says, “Shoo, fly! Shoo!! Shoo!!! . . . I have a shoe!” (scurries over to her cubby and pulls out a bejeweled flip-flop, raises it in attack) “Shoe, fly!! Shoe!” I confess I did stop her from squashing the fly with her shoe on my counter. But I did it with a straight and understanding face.

Heard at the breakfast table this morning: Ruth was eating pancakes (pay-pates) with syrup (see-up).  “I put mine finger in mine nose!  I put mine finger in mine nose!”  (lighthearted response)”Oh, yucky, Ruth.  Don’t put your finger up your nose.  Yuck.”  . . . . minutes pass . . . . (very excited pronouncement) “I hat see-up in mine nose!”  “You have syrup in you nose?!”  ::sneeze:: “Yeeaah!”  ::sneeze::  ::giggle giggle::  Maybe it’s just because I’m her mom, but this one  cracked me up.

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Filed under Hannah, Ruth, silliness, sisters