Thursday, October 23, 2008

More $$$

Just when you literally utter the words that you might be seeing the light of day in your two year old’s behavior; your four year old socks it to you.

Riley and a pal helped themselves to my OPI nail polish this morning and shattered a bottle, resulting in painted tile and walls and cherry cabinets beyond repair. They wiped it up with the bathroom towels. The pal got two cuts. I wanted to scream, but tried to contain it since we had a friend over (funny how we do that!)

Ten minutes later, Finn broke my new vacuum cleaner.

This rocks.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008


Not to belabor something everyone who knows anyone with small kids knows, but I’m busy. Monday was one for the record books.

5:00 Riley wakes up with nightmare, won’t go back to sleep.
5:40 Finn wakes up, won’t go back to sleep.
6:00 Serve breakfast #1
6:45 Shower
7:30 Wake Logan and prepare her “inside out” outfit for spirit week
7:50 Serve breakfast #2
8:15 Take everyone to bus stop to see Logan off.
8:30 Leave with Riley and Finn, pick up carpool pal and drop Riley at school.
9:30 Drop Finn off at school, only to find out that I have forgotten his spirit week and he is the only friend not in PJ’s.
9:45 Go to Logan’s school to re-do bulletin boards for her teacher.
11:00 Rush home to empty dishwasher and clean up breakfast mess.
11:45 pick up Finn.
12:00 pick up Riley.
12:15 Serve lunch.
12:45 Leave for pediatrician appointment for Riley’s left her which she says she “can’t use.”
2:00 Leave pediatrician’s office with a middle ear full of untreatable, non-infected fluid and no drugs.
2:15 Arrive home and quickly pack all gymnastics gear and snacks for the afternoon.
3:00 Arrive at Logan’s school where we have to wait in line for 30 minutes just to be out of line in time to make it to 4 pm gymnastics class.
4:00 Sit for one hour while wrangling Finn during gymnastics class. He completely drenches himself in water fountain, but makes a new pal and plays trucks. I get to sit and chat with two nice moms for almost the whole time.
5:00 Find out the girl I have offered to drive home (whose mom is not present) has gotten into trouble teasing another girl in class. The coaches want to have a talk with her and then want me to inform her mother, who I barely know, of the details.
5:30 Boil pasta. Thank God for pasta.
6:00 Leave for swimming lessons. This is now a big pain since the weather has changed.
6:20 Swimming lessons begin. Finn gets head stuck in railing of viewing deck while we wait.
7:00 Pick up Market Day order at school.
7:30 Help Logan with homework. Thank God Logan is smart!
8:00 Bedtime. Glorious Bedtime.
8:15 Eat cheese and crackers for dinner and watch “Heros”.

How will I ever fill my days when they are grown??

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Can You Hear Me Now?

Don’t bother calling me. Seriously, we have one phone left that works and the battery is running low. I wonder how parents of two-year-old boys have the opportunity to save money, ever. Yesterday, in a last ditch effort to buy myself a few moments of cooking peace, I filled the sink with bubbles and plastic sharks and measuring cups. I set Finn on a stool and let him at it. It was bliss and I completed an apple crisp full of apples hand picked by us the day before and even prepared dinner so that it would be quickly on the table between gymnastics and swimming.

When Finn moved on to something else, I drained the sink. Squeaky clean and glistening at the bottom was my cordless phone. At first it worked, although water continuously ran down my shoulder while talking, I was able to use it. But by 5 pm death was certain, the phone kept turning itself on and off and dialing different numbers. At 9, Mr. Fixit gave up and just disconnected the battery.

Apparently Finn has a thing for phones. In June he grabbed Grammy’s for a brief moment and it was never seen again. It seems she’s finally given in to the fact that she’ll never find it; so I guess we’ll both be buying new phones this weekend.

I cannot wait to watch this child have his own children someday. Sweet vengeance!

Friday, October 10, 2008

The "S" on my chest.

There is something that I am supposed to remember that I am forgetting. This is the feeling pulsing through my veins on most days. Between the lives of four others and the pseudo career I have created for myself, I feel a bit overwhelmed. Throw in a drug that makes me feel horrible that I just found out I’ll be on for five more weeks and the certain loss of Mike’s job on December 31st and you’ve got one undeniable thing: stress. It’s funny, I’m not paralyzed or freaking out, by my mind feels all scrambled and I can’t remember anything. I feel like a slave to my calendar (even more than usual), just bought a Blackberry to help keep me better organized with work stuff and generally act like a mama hen with her head cut off running her chicks to all their different obligations, left to say “No” when things come up for me to do – only out of pure exhaustion!

There is something to be said for being “Supermom”. I suppose all of us want that title, even if just a little bit. I can admit to you that I’d like to be remembered for doing lots of things well; like being a good wife and mom, daughter and friend and sister, writer and cook, and I want to create and maintain a home that is warm and welcoming and safe and loving. Those are just the basics and that’s enough! When you add the fundraisers and extracurriculars and lessons and eating healthy and doing right by the environment and making sure the dog gets enough love and keeping in touch and following the campaign, it’s no wonder that I’ve been wearing the wrong size bra for a year. Life is complicated.

Maybe the impending upheaval from this job change (and I say “change” because I know that Mike will find something quickly) is just a wake up call. There is so much out of my control right now that all I can do is focus on those basics and make sure there are no major catastrophes along the way. Still, keeping those basics in check is more than a full time job. I know I am not alone; pretty much everyone is in this boat regardless of the specifics. Sometimes I feel like Alicia Keys wrote her song, “Superwoman” just to motivate me, but I quickly remember her words are for all of us gals, just trying to get it done right.
Everywhere I'm turning
Nothing seems complete
I stand up and I'm searching
For the better part of me
I hang my head from sorrow
state of humanity
I wear it on my shoulders
Gotta find the strength in me
Cause I am a Superwoman
Yes I am
Yes she is
Even when I'm a mess
I still put on a vest
With an S on my chest
Oh yesI'm a Superwoman
For all the mothers fighting
For better days to come
And all my women,all my women sitting here trying
To come home before the sun
And all my sisters
Coming together
Say yes I will
Yes I can
Cause I am a Superwoman
Yes I am
Yes she is
Even when I'm a mess
I still put on a vest
With an S on my chest
Oh yes
I'm a Superwoman
When I'm breaking down
And I can't be found
And I start to get weak
Cause no one knows
Me underneath these clothes
But I can fly
We can fly, Oh
Cause I am a Superwoman
Yes I am
Yes she is
Even when I'm a mess
I still put on a vest
With an S on my chest
Oh yes
I'm a Superwoman

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

a question.....

Pardon my vulgarity, but I have a question: why must boys stick things into other things?

I just spent twenty minutes fishing 25 clear file tabs out of every crevice of my hard drive while Sleepless in Oswego screamed, "ME WANT THOSE!" at the top of his lungs.

I just need to accept that there are some things I will never understand.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Prednisone Blues

This is not my typical post, but this blog is founded in real life. This is mine right now.

The moment the acrid taste of my nemesis hit my tongue, it all came flooding back. There they were - the memories of year and a half of my worst times in life; all at the front of my mind in an instant. I have avoided this moment for a year, but at my doctor’s urging can do so no longer. I've been promised that I won’t be on it as long or at such a high dose, but I don’t really care. Like a toddler who wants his way, I want mine. And my way does not involve this drug that seems to so easily wreak havoc inside my body. I can spot a prednisone user from a mile away, face growing wider by the day and reddish from the hot flashes with extra weight in all the wrong places. For me, this drug historically carries with it a pounding heart, high blood pressure, kidney stones and other undesirable side effects. All I can do is grit my teeth and bear it and hope that with all its ugliness, there is a part of me that needs this awful foe, an illness that will undoubtedly be healed by finally breaking down and agreeing to it. Things do seem slightly better already; I hope it’s more than wishful thinking on day three. I’ll take two weeks of hell for five more symptom-less ulcerative colitis years any day.

And a Few More...

A Few Wedding Pictures...