Today's Adventure

I'm getting old. Suddenly I'm having all kinds of dental issues. OK. Maybe not suddenly. I've had one tooth that's been giving me fits since I was pregnant with Big Sissy. After getting all numbed up for a root canal...TWICE...they decided that I should just have the tooth extracted and get an implant. But then I was pregnant and they wouldn't do it, and then I was pregnant again, and then I was pregnant again...

There's no waiting any more. Today I had to go get the tooth x-rayed so it can be extracted in a few weeks. It turns out there's no root left. The tooth is literally hanging on by my permanent retainer that has been behind my bottom teeth since 9th grade. I'm thinking I should get a discount on the extraction, but I doubt I'll be so lucky.

Often Hubby meets me at the doctor's office and entertains the kids while I have my appointment. Today, though, he was teaching a workshop and they told me it would just take a few minutes for a quick x-ray. I warned her about the entourage that comes with me, and she said that was fine. It was all good except the building is in Westport, an area that is not especially accustomed to having many small children around and where apparently no handicapped people work either. I got to the entrance, panicked when I realized there was NO WAY I was getting the Big Mama Graco stroller up the stairs, and asked a man who was walking out if there was another entrance. I pointed to the stroller, and made the mistake of assuming that he understood that's why I needed a different entrance. I walked all the way around the building and sure enough, there was another entrance. With more stairs. Ugh. Thankfully a more thoughtful businessman was walking by, and he helped me get the stroller into the building.

The appointment was quick, the nice lady at the front desk entertained my children while I had the x-ray, and this time I thought to ask if there was another way out. She told me I could park in the garage the next time, so I decided to go out through the garage. We must have looked hilarious in the yuppy business district--three of us pushing a big stroller down the ramp, ducking under the gate that raises for actual cars, and trying to stay out of the way of real traffic. It reminded me of a time I was with my friend Krista in high school. We were trying to go bowling at SIUE, which was the only acceptable place for nice Pentecostal girls to bowl since there is no smoking or drinking allowed. We had her parents' big Cadillac, and somehow we accidentally ended up on a bike trail. We barely got the car through the bike tunnel and had to drive over some concrete barricades to get back into a real parking lot. I don't know how I always end up in these situations, but I always have a reason to laugh!

Takeout Fail

I can't always recommend failblog.org because sometimes it's a little inappropriate, but this one cracked me up. So true...

Inchbug Labels

Remember when I was really wanting to buy decals for my minivan and new sippy cup labels? Well, I refrained. Don't go congratulating. I just spent money on other things instead. Something about the "minivan mommy" label turned me off to the decals. I know, I know, if the shoe fits.... but I'm in denial. Anyway, I ended up buying the Inchbug labels that I had already gotten for the girls.

I like that the kids can figure out whose is whose even before they can read (as long as you don't have more than 4 kids--there are only 4 colors to choose from). And they're not permanent. The more I thought about the permanent labels for Little Buddy, the more I realized that he's a 3rd child. You know what that means. He doesn't have much that belongs to only him. Sad, but true. So the labels that can easily peel off work well for us. That way they can mix and match sippy cups.

Here's what I don't like about the labels: One, they are hard to read. Many older nursery workers have "re-labeled" our cups because they didn't know it was a label. The words are the same color as the label. They thought they were just grips to help the kids hold on better, which isn't a bad idea. The other thing I don't like is the marketing.

They should just say "Makes life simpler" and leave it at that. That would be good enough for me. But really, "Learn Braille"??? Give me a break. If suddenly my toddlers went blind, assuming they could read anything, I don't think knowing the word "Inchbug" in Braille would change their life. It's not even their own name in Braille. And "Promotes Good Hygeine." If I could buy a little label that would teach them to brush their teeth, wash their hands, and not pick their noses, I would totally do it. But this isn't the product. But it does wash well, make a quick label, and serve the purpose nicely.

Oh to be a Fly in the Sewer

Big Sissy is a thinker. She is very resourceful, and actually helps me think through problems sometimes. For example, when she turned 4 and had her Fancy Nancy party, I was trying to think of "fancy clothes" for the boys to wear. She is the one who suggested using her hair bows as bow ties for them. Perfect! A couple of months ago, she got tired of waiting for me to refill Little Sissy's sippy cup, so she got out the milk, took the lid off, poured it into the cup, replaced both lids, and had the milk put away before I even knew what had happened. When Little Sissy came happily sauntering down the stairs with her milk, I bolted upstairs expecting to find a mess everywhere (which I deserved for wanting to finish my computer time before tending to their needs). Little Sissy announced, "I made a little mess, but I cleaned it up with 2 napkins and threw them away." Awesome. She can figure out anything. Awesome. And a little scary.

Tonight, out of the blue, she asked me, "So...how would you wash a ponytail holder?"
Me: Well, you could put it in the washing machine with the clothes, or you could just wash it in the sink with soap. Why?
Her: What if it was really dirty, like someone spilled chocolate milk or soup or something really wet like that on it?
Me: Mommy could help you get it clean.
Her: What if I couldn't find it?
Me: Then we can't wash it.
Her: One time, when I was 2 and didn't know any better, and I was potty training, I was wearing stickers. I dropped a sticker in the toilet, and I reached my hand into the potty water and got it. But now I know that's really, really gross.
Me: Yeah, that's really gross.
Her: That's funny, isn't it?
Me: That is funny. You never told me that happened. I'm glad you don't do that anymore. Eeeew.

So here's what I think happened. She dropped the ponytail holder into the toilet, she didn't want to stick her hand in there because now she's 4 and knows that's really gross, then when she flushed she "lost it." I don't think she knows where things go after they get flushed, so she's wondering, just in case she finds that ponytail holder before I do, how she can wash it without telling me what happened. Hmmmm...sneaky but pretty smart. I wish I could investigate to find out if I'm right.

Baby Bug

I was at my MOPS group on Tuesday, minding my own business, chatting with other grownups, when a nursery worker appeared at the door with a baby. It wasn't even my baby, but he was a-DORABLE. Cooing. Kicking his little legs. Smiling. And suddenly, I realized...I've got it again. The baby bug.

Me and Big Sissy at 1

As I think about it, this is the longest I've ever gone since we started having children without being pregnant. It doesn't help that I'm in the middle of weaning my little guy. I was all psyched up to wean him soon after he turned 1, but then he had a terrible bout with what seems to be lactose intolerance or dairy hypersensitivity. The mommy/protector kicked in, and I went back to nursing him 3 times a day. Now we've finally settled on soy milk, his gut seems better, and this week I dropped the night feeding. Only one more to drop, and then we're done. It seems so final. The thing is that he's not sad about it like his oldest sister was. He's a little confused but not sad. He is perfectly happy to eat a fun snack and drink soy milk from a big kid cup like his sisters do. He just gets a little confused when I try to rock him. No, this is definitely more emotional for me than for him. That's part of the baby bug, I think.

Little Sissy at 1

For those that have been following along, having another baby is NOT an option. Not physically. Probably not even emotionally. On days like today I feel like I have reached (or possibly exceeded) my patience capacity. So then why do I continue to keep every piece of baby gear and still pause when I pass by maternity stores at the mall? I think it's because being mama to these sweet little ones is the most fulfilling thing I've ever done. I like being needed. And adored. And needing and adoring in return.

Little Buddy at 1

As with all phases, I'm just going through an adjustment. I've never been great at embracing change. I'm sure I'll enjoy the time when they're in school and making new friends too, just as I enjoyed the times of being pregnant and picking out cute baby clothes. I'm just having a hard time letting go.

Packing Musts

I wish I had some real tips for packing. We go visit our family in IL pretty regularly, and I'm still always scrambling to get packed at the last minute. So I guess my tip is to not wait until the last minute. But never, never, never forget to pack these cute accessories. They're small, travel well, and double as hairbrush holders.

Corn on the Cob 101

First, try holding it like a sippy cup.

If that doesn't work, get handles.

Next, taste the handles.

If that doesn't satisfy, have Daddy hold it and DIG IN.

Watch this video to see the full effect.

Way to Go, BIL!!

I posted earlier in the year that I was trying to read through the Bible this year. I'm plugging along, but I'm about 3 weeks behind. I'm not letting that stop me, though. The problem right now is Leviticus. If you're not that familiar with the Old Testament, it's mainly about required sacrifices and sin offerings before Jesus came and became the ultimate sacrifice. I drudge through it because it makes me appreciate what Christ has done on our behalf. The thing that struck me as interesting, though, is when the land was being distributed to the twelve tribes of Israel. The Levites, the priests, were the only ones who didn't get land. They were to pass on the spiritual heritage and were well taken care of by the other tribes. It made me chuckle a little that even back then the people who were called into ministry didn't have anything the world would see as valuable, and yet God promised to provide for them. Since many of our friends are in ministry of some kind, I know they can relate.

Which brings me to my BIL. He has been in full-time ministry since I've known him, since before he married my sister. He works very hard and often is behind the scenes. For the past 2 years, he's also been going to school. This guy has had so many irons in the fire it's unbelievable. A few weeks ago he finished (while he was on a missions trip, ironically). We finally got to celebrate last night. Congratulations, Uncle J!!!



You've probably already figured out that I adore my family. They're fun, real, smart, and hysterical. Here is my sister, Aunt "Dardar," in the clubhouse she helped the girls build. Sorry you're in the middle of a blink, Dardar. They had a secret handshake and everything (after she explained to my girls what a handshake is). The next one is of my dad helping Big Sissy try to do a headstand like her big cousin is so talented at doing.

Because Money Grows On Budding Trees

I don't know what it is about warm weather that makes me want to spend money like a maniac on less than practical things, but here's something that I keep thinking about. These are decals to put on the back of the minivan. The only thing I don't like is that my head would look much larger than Hubby's head. I know, I know. It's a cartoon. It still bothers me. I found them on http://www.sippycuplabels.com/ because of course my kids need new sippy cup labels for the warm weather too, right?

Emerging from our Hibernation

You know winter has lasted WAY too long when Big Sissy heard a bird chirping and said, "Mommy, I think someone is turning on their Leapster outside!"

We are re-experiencing the joys of dirty toes, scraped knees, sweaty hair, sticks, rocks, and bugs--and loving every minute of it. Of course now the girls are noticing all the girls with painted toenails. (Thanks, Nana, for helping my girls to become high maintenance.) All I have to say is I will CRY if it snows again. I am ready to come out of hibernation! I'll even paint toenails if we can just keep sandal weather!

Nature vs. Nurture

I've really tried not to force my kids into gender roles. I think it's good for them to explore what they like to do. I loved to play with dump trucks and work on cars when I was a kid, and thankfully no one stopped me (of course I always had my purse and baby doll with me while I was doing those things). I'm still not prissy, but I still love purses and babies. I'm always amazed at the different ways our kids play--already. Little Buddy loves to push cars up and down the hallway. The girls like cars too, but they're always transporting their dolls to the store, to school, to the emergency room, etc. I don't know what Little Buddy would do with access to a bottle of dish soap, but I'm just guessing it wouldn't be this:

Big Sissy told me the dish soap was getting pretty tired, so she needed to fix up a little bed so it wouldn't be uncomfortable while it slept. It is inside of a bowl with a dishcloth underneath and another on top. She's such a nurturer by nature!

Cooks In Training

Someday I'll get to sit on the couch, sipping my sweet tea with my feet up, while the girls cook dinner. For now I get to pick up carrot shavings from all over the floor. I don't care, though. I'm just thrilled that they want to help!

Sneak Peek at the Flower Girl Dress

I am waiting on confirmation from Sunshine, but I think this is the flower girl dress we are ordering for Big Sissy. Isn't it exquisite?

When Did I Get So Old???

OK. I'm here. In the basement. Barely. Little 19-year-old personal trainer boy kicked my booty. We started our session with his not even being there because of a mixup in schedule times. I was kind of OK with that--ready to go grab my kids out of the childcare area where last night the worker told me (as a girl was complaining of her head itching) that lice is REALLY going around. Eeeeewwww.

Apparently trainer boy was only a phone call away, though, because by the time I warmed up on an elliptical machine, he was there. It started with the typical humiliation: weighing, measuring, body fat callibrating. Then I got a dignity break while he showed me how to use the machines. Then...the booty kicking began. He said it was only 10 minutes. All I know is I was jiggling in places I haven't been aware of for quite some time. Lunges, pushups, lunges with weights, core exercises. Wow. I cheated on the lunges for quite some time before he noticed. I didn't really mean to. It was just a lot easier to put my knee all the way on the floor.

The session ended with a survey about what I typically eat in a day. I wasn't even completely honest. I didn't tell him about the pizza that we have at least once a week (or that I've been having Giordano's nearly every day this week). I tried to sound reasonable because I am reasonable on occasion: Special K for breakfast, turkey and cheese sandwich for lunch, spaghetti for dinner. Then I learned about the Paleo diet (aka caveman diet, hunter-gatherer diet) which does not include cereal, bread, pasta (my breakfast, lunch, and dinner). He gently said no wonder I'm fluffy that I need to change my diet as well as adding vigorous, booty-kicking exercise. *sigh* When did I get old? This is how I've always eaten.

So I might try it, just as soon as the Giordano's pizza and Girl Scout cookies are gone.

Bikini Weather is Coming

Not that I would wear one. Not that I even wore one when I was skinny-ish. But it's still coming. That at least means shorts. Or clothes that don't cover every inch of my body. So I FINALLY signed up at a gym last week. It took 9 days for me to even walk through the door. I don't know why this is so hard. I used to work out all the time. Part of the problem is the childcare situation. The gym that is the most feasible has a very poor setup for the children. They have fun toys, but they're in a completely different building from where I am, and there's no window to peek through. I just don't feel very warm and fuzzy about that.

I figured out, though, that my sister and my cousin are both signed up at the same gym in different locations. That means in theory we could meet at one of them and work out together sometime. I've decided this is going to be my stress release while Hubby is gone this week. So tonight we went. Exactly 9 calories into my elliptical workout I remembered that I haven't exercised in over 2 years. I decided I should at least stay on long enough to burn off today's Coke, so I made it 20 minutes. That's about all I could handle, and that's about all the kids could handle in the room with the one lady who never left her chair. Ahem.

Tomorrow I have an appointment with the personal trainer. He told me to come dressed for a workout. Lucky for me, I dress for a workout most days. I just don't work out most days. Or ever. If I can will my muscles to bring me downstairs to the computer tomorrow night, I'll let you know how it went.

Chuck E.'s Sketch

Little Buddy got a gift card to Chuck E. Cheese for his birthday. Since Daddy doesn't have to leave until this afternoon (and I don't really enjoy trying to keep track of all 3 by myself), we decided to redeem it today. After going to Dave & Buster's the other night, Chuck E. Cheese's doesn't seem nearly so overwhelming--especially on a Monday morning when school is in session.

Here's everyone's Chuck E. "Cheesy" smiles.

Little Buddy eagerly awaits Big Sissy's arrival at the bottom of the slide.

He loves anything with buttons he can push!

Little Sissy and her good buddy, Barney, going for a little ride.

This is my favorite machine of all. I can't believe it's only a token to get these sketches. I get one every time. Aren't they so cute?

Dear Sunshine

My sweet, perfect beautiful cousin is getting married in June. Grandpa calls her Little Miss Sunshine, so that was the theme. Little Sissy gets to be the flower girl, so there will be many pictures to come. At the shower we all had an opportunity to write her a note in a journal. I didn't want to scare her, but the thing I wanted to say most is that marriage is HARD WORK. It is worth it, of course, but there are challenges--money juggling, emotion controlling, in-law balancing, decision making , family planning, career joining, chore delegating. Then kids come and it's exciting and beautiful, but with the little bundles of blessing come new challenges--finding time for each other, finding time for yourself, and really staying connected. Here's an example. This is how our weekend together went:

Thursday: Hubby got home from Chicago about 5:30. At 6:00 we left to go to a meeting to learn more about homeschooling.

Friday: Hubby got home from work about 5:00. We fed the kids dinner, and at 6:00 we left to go to Trivia Night at our church. It was so much fun AND we won free babysitting from one of our favorite girls at church who works with the kids. We got home way past the kids' bedtime and figured we would pay the price.

Saturday: We finally had a relaxing morning, then we darted off to IL so I could go to Sunshine's bridal shower and Hubby and the kids could go play with Papa B. I picked the family up, we stopped by home to drop off the food from the first party and pick up food for the next party (and clean pants for Little Sissy, who pooped in hers during the first one), and went to have dinner with friends. We left early on purpose since we were going to lose an hour of sleep, but everyone was still over-tired. After we dealt with the tantrums and got everyone calmed down, we were ready to crash too.

Sunday: We survived the time change and got to church only 15 minutes late (for the 2nd service, of course), had lunch, got everyone down for naps, I went to choir practice, we had dinner and got everyone to bed.

Tomorrow: Hubby leaves for Chicago again. *sigh*

So, Dear Sunshine, cherish these moments together. One day you won't be able to sleep in together on Saturdays. Or go for a spontaneous walk without dragging out the double stroller. Or stay out late without some planning ahead with a babysitter. But hopefully when that time comes you will be ready to sacrifice those things. And you will change and grow together as a couple. And you will appreciate your time together more than ever. They tell me that before you know it, you'll blink and they'll be out later than you, and they will sleep in later than you. Then one day they'll move out and have families of their own. And you'll grow old together--just the two of you. And it will seem like the kids were with you for only a minute. Marriage is hard, but it is good. And if you fight for it, it gets better and better. If I sound old and wise, it's only because I've gotten good advice from people who have been there, and today I need to hear it too. Love is a choice that you will make every day that you are together, and even when you are apart. Make the choice, and then don't look back. You won't regret it. Oh, and just in case you ever feel like giving up, don't hesitate to find someone you trust to talk to. We all need encouragement from time to time. You are a beautiful person, Sunshine, and you've picked a stellar man who loves you dearly. Your foundation of faith will be invaluable in the days to come. Enjoy the ride, and congratulations.

Baby Gymnastics

Little Sissy is in gymnastics at the Y for her first class. Big Sissy did it when she was 2. In the name of fairness, I guess we'll do it again next year with Little Buddy. Miss Louise has been there for years, so she'll probably teach all 3. The hardest part for Little Sissy is jumping with 2 feet at the same time (which is exactly why I put Big Sissy in the class originally).

Parents are Just So Embarrassing!

Big Sissy had her Spring Sing tonight for her preschool choir. I didn't realize until last week that it was coming, so we didn't even invite anyone to come. Then we realized that Daddy would be out of town. So it was up to me to get everyone there by 6:15 with clean clothes and full bellies. Usually we're late, but they needed to line up at 6:15--a daunting task with 5o preschoolers. So I boogied. And I got us there.

While we were eating supper, Big Sissy noticed some spitup on my sweater. I'm so used to having something on me that I don't even notice any more. She can't stand it, though. She will hold her nose the entire time I'm brushing her teeth if it remotely smells like spitup in the room (ie. on my clothes). At about 6:00 I was still frantically trying to get legs in tights, feet in shoes, and arms in jackets on so we could rush out the door. I thought about the fact that I didn't have on any makeup and hadn't brushed my teeth since early in the morning...for a second. Then I got over it because this night was not about me, and I don't even know anyone there. But when we got home, after all the hugs and congratulations, Big Sissy looked at me. Clearly disgusted she said, "Mooooom, why did you wear your STINKY sweater to my program?"

Uh oh. I'm that mom already. Of course my parents were embarrassing too. I was mortified when my mom used to wear her fanny pack to Six Flags. Of course I didn't complain when she carried all the money and I didn't have to. And I was humiliated when my dad wore his dark church socks with shorts on Sunday afternoons or asked for kisses when he was dropping me off to high school. I knew I'd embarrass my children somehow, someday. I just didn't think it would happen so soon!

Blast From the Past

Did you ever see the old Brendan Fraser movie Blast From the Past? A family mistakes a plane crash for a nuclear disaster and hides in their fallout shelter for 35 years. When Brendan Fraser's character is 35, he emerges as a naive, child-like man. He meets some friends who teach him how to dress and "act unimpressed."

That's how it was for us today at the grocery store. None of my children ever remember going to a grocery store. I wish I were kidding, but it's true. I used to take Big Sissy when she was little, but once I had 2 littles ones I decided it was just easier to go at night after they were in bed. I'm sure each of them has been there at some point when they were still nursing frequently, but nobody remembers it. I became aware of this when our Parents as Teachers educator showed Big Sissy some logos on her last visit. She was explaining how recognizing the logos from familiar stores, like grocery stores, can help the child in her reading readiness.

She asked Big Sissy, "What is your favorite grocery store?"
"Trader Joe's," she said. Good answer, kid, I silently applauded. Except it's not on the list.
"Do you recognize anything on this page?"
"Yep. That's Pepsi. My mom likes to drink that a lot."
That and McDonalds were the only logos she recognized.

So today I thought we'd emerge from our cave and go to the grocery store. OK, I didn't really have a choice since Hubby is out of town. I had to get some medicine anyway, since I never picked it up yesterday. I also just discovered that Shop 'n Save DOES have those cool carts that 3 kids fit in. I thought that was for fancy people at fancy grocery stores because I had never seen one at my store. Just recently I discovered that they are stored at the exit instead of the entrance--if they are not all in use. That is literally the only way that we can go. Otherwise there's no room for food!

It was mildly embarrassing as my kids squealed with delight over all the beautiful colors of apples and ROWS AND ROWS of salad dressing!!! And did you know you can get graham crackers in CHOCOLATE!!!! How come we never got chocolate ones, Mommy? And cookies and muffins and doughnuts, oh my. I only went for about 10 items and left with at least 15. I figure the least I can do is let them try jello THAT COMES IN A CUP. Awesome.

Tomorrow we're going back to our cave. It's too expensive out there.

Woe Is Me

I have a great life, but I still feel yucky and emotional sometimes. I guess it's part of being a girl, but I would not choose that part of womanhood in a million years. Today is one of those days. Hubby is out of town, and I always need a day or two to adjust to his being gone. But today I also woke up with symptoms of a recurring illness I have had more times than I care to name. I knew I would need to take some antibiotics, and I thought for some reason that I would then not be able to breastfeed while I was taking the medicine. I have dropped from 4 feedings down to 2 (morning and night), but I wasn't really ready to drop the last 2. When I woke up and knew what was happening, I made the impromptu decision to drop the morning feeding. It's not really the way I wanted to make that decision, and it turns out that the antibiotic is safe for nursing mothers. But my day just started wrong, you know? I am such a baby. Lots of moms do this alone all the time. I am just weak, and I need my partner!!!

On a brighter note, Big Sissy came up with a new definition today that I think is pretty good. She was talking about her vegetable soup, and she said she liked the vegetables but not the "background soup." That's a pretty good description of broth, don't you think?

Hubby called to check in on us around 6. He's such a good man. Usually I'm just getting dinner on the table, but we were already done. Frozen pizza and veggies don't really take that long to prepare. he he. That's one nice thing about "single mommin'" it. Little Sissy wanted to talk to Daddy. Usually she just says "hi" and then listens for a minute, looks at the phone, and then hands it back to me. Today she was feeling especially chatty. I knew exactly what she was saying, but I knew Hubby was struggling. Here's what she told him:

"I sad 'cause Mommy ot et me av 'oap."
Translation: (I'm sad ((ie. WHINY)) because Mommy won't let me have soap.) Lest you think I won't let the poor baby get clean, I bought a new bottle of soap yesterday and today it's already half empty.

After lots of struggling and Daddy saying things like, "What? You need help? You need help with what?" I got the phone back. Then she wanted to tell him one more thing.

"I got a boo boo."

Phone back to me. Then she needed to tell him one more thing.

"I toot." (silence on our end while Daddy says something) "Umm...I say "skuze me. OK. Bye bye."

Finally, to add to the randomness of this post, here is one way to keep your baby brother from taking your sippy cup--or at least to make sure he gouges out at least one eye in the process: Stick a toothpick in it. Good thinking, Big Sissy.