Japan and Overindulgence and Luck

Most of us know we are lucky. We know it yet we complain about the little things. My littlest one threw a fit in a small grocery store yesterday. She wanted Goldfish crackers even though I told her again and again we already had Goldfish crackers at home. She's two, so I expect that she won't listen to reason. She just wants the friggin' crackers NOW and has no reason to realize how privileged she is to live in a family that has already purchased, perhaps even stockpiled the very cracker she so vehemently desires on a Monday morning just after Daylight Saving Time began.

My older kids want, want, want as well. I know some of it is my doing. I give, give, give, probably more than I should or is good for them. I do set limits. I do tell them no and stick with it. You won't catch me on Outrageous Kid's Parties or whatever that new show is called. I like to throw my kids a fun party but no party will ever cost $20 to $30 thousand in our house. Our wedding didn't even cost that much. I notice my kids want and ask for more things since we subscribed to cable TV, so any thoughts I might have had about the lack of influence of commercials have long since been refuted.

I worry that my kids are overindulged. I know they're not to the point of the kids that appear on the party show or even on Supernanny but sometimes I wonder how much I am hurting them by buying even the occasional binder folder with Mickey Mouse on the cover on clearance (98 cents! Woot!). Nevertheless, my kids definitely have the "gimmies."

Then something like the earthquake and tsunami occurs in Japan. It's literally on the other side of the globe and my kids are still fairly young. I wonder about sheltering them from the images of such devastation. They already are terrified of tornadoes and have various nightmares about natural acts. But I don't shelter them. I show them. I make them look and look hard. They are lucky. WE are lucky. SO FAR.

I tell them that there are kids there, kids who maybe had everything they ever wanted and now have nothing. I feel a little sick and my words catch in my throat because it's probably true even though I don't know for sure. My kids? I don't know what they think for sure. We get out a globe and I show them where Japan is, where Hawaii is (we did this as the tsunami was heading toward the US), where the West Coast of the US is and where Minnesota is in relation to it all. It puts distance between us and the disaster which seems both good and bad at the time.

It's too easy to turn away, to say it's on the other side of the globe. It's that lucky factor again. It didn't happen to us, or to anyone we know. It seems a little unreal, even with the videos, the photos, the constant news coverage.

I think of my friend, who's husband was in Japan on a plane ready to come home when the earthquake hit. His was one of 5 planes allowed to leave that day. He came home. LUCK.

Look at this! These people have NOTHING. Maybe not even their LIVES! I compel my kids to care, and they do, a little. But they are 8 and 6 and 2 and are LUCKY.

I look at myself and see this body that I have abused and think of those who no longer have that choice. My issues are silly, yet I know that I have to allow myself to feel whatever I feel. Feelings are always valid.

We can all have a bad day even when we are lucky. It is still allowed to feel angry, disappointed, UNLUCKY, even when we know, deep down (or maybe not so deep) that we are LUCKY.

Something I've Been Wondering

Why is it that when a parent stays home with her children full-time she is considered to not have a job and she is considered non-essential when, at the same time, if both parents work the kids need daycare...which for the people who work there is a JOB and is definitely essential?

If it makes people feel better toward me, can't they just consider me my children's daycare?

How Boobs Became Zebras and other classy stuff

The other day, I received a comment that said: “I still don't get why your daughter called your breasts Zebras. Can you 'splain?”

For those who don’t know what she’s asking about, read here.

Did you read it?

Oh, you did not!

It’s short! You can take the time to go back and read it.

Go on.

Okay, I’ll just have to believe you read it now.

So, why did my daughter call my breasts zebras when she was three? Would that I understood the workings of a three-year-old mind. On second thought, I don’t think I want to understand.

But here’s my theory:

She was a typical three-year-old, full of questions. I’m sure she asked me at some point what’s that? when I was getting dressed. I would have explained that that was a bra, thinking that she was asking about the garment I was putting on. She may, in fact, have been asking what my girls were. Who knows? But in typical M fashion, she remembered the information later, but just slightly off.

The ladies became the zebras.

Now, I want to clarify that I didn’t intend to name this blog after the jugs. When I named this blog, that was just a funny story that made me laugh so I thought I’d be able to recall that story every time I went to my blog.

Plus I’m not that smart to put two and two together and realize that I sort of named my blog about my boobs.

This blog is not, in fact, about my breasts.

They are, occasionally featured however.

For example, here’s a booby story:

When D was just a few weeks old I was laying on our bed nursing her. Craig entered our bedroom and did a double take.

I asked him what that was about.

He explained that he looked at D and I lying there and wondered what’s that?

Then he realized that the giant, bulbous thing that dwarfed his daughter’s head was good old Lefty.

If you ask me about this in person I'll deny it

The thing about getting older is that people younger than you find your younger self hilarious. As in—nice mile-high bangs and what up with the parachute pants? I have to say that I was quite stylish in my Forenza sweatshirt (Benetton T-shirt underneath) and my Guess jeans rolled or pinned depending on the current style. Never mind that I probably couldn’t fit one of my legs in the waist of one of my teenaged-self’s pair of jeans. And you can bet that I sported not one, but two pairs of socks, different colors, that coordinated with my fuchsia and green sweatshirt.

What?

So, it turns out that it’s not only fashion that provides endless mirth for future generations, but celebrities do as well. Honestly, how could girls have thought David Cassidy was groovy? I Think I Love You, well, NOT.

I asked for questions to help me think of things to write, to get me un-blocked. (um. That sounds icky.) My cousin Chelsea is a few years younger than me, and most of the time I don’t feel that much older than she is. Although once in a while I’ll mention a celebrity and she’ll look at me blankly. And that’s when I know that I’m old.

So, for Chelsea’s entertainment, I give you a short (by no means exhaustive) list of celebrities whose magazine photos graced the wall of young Heather’s room. Those photos may or may not have been kissed a few times. I admit to nothing. Even if they were, they liked it. You know it.


1. Michael Jackson. Didn’t every girl have that poster of him in the white pants and shirt with the yellow sweater-vest? That was back when he was cute. And sort of normal.
2. Corey Haim. I have to say that I’m very happy I don’t have cable television so I can’t see what he’s become. Or not become.
3. C.B. Barnes. I watched Starman solely to look at him.
4. Andrew McCarthy. Oh Blane. What about prom?
5. The boys from Limited Warranty. Hey, they were from Minneapolis.
6. Ralph Macchio. Karate Kid II was better than the first movie in my eyes. It had a love story. Sigh.
7. Kirk Cameron. Who didn’t love him?
8. River Phoenix. What a waste.

Who were your crushes??

blocked

I have several ideas for posts that I want to write, but no time to write them.

Scratch that.

When I do have the time to write them, I either can't get the words from my head to the screen, or I just plain don't feel like writing.

I went to the first PTA meeting of the year tonight. It was a waste of time and now my baby is fussy and STILL. NOT. SLEEPING.

My mom, Aunt Sue and Cousin Chelsea are heading to NY tomorrow. I'm a little jealous, but they don't have my kids so I guess we're probably even on the luckiness scale.

Scratch that.

I'm waaaay ahead.

Anywho.

Ask me some questions so I can get over this writer's block. Ask me anything.

The Name Game

With just 6 weeks to go until this babe will be pulled from my belly, Craig and I have been talking about what her name will be. (And what his name would be if she should really be a he and fooled us all.)

No one told me how hard it is to name your own child, let alone find a name that you and another person both can agree upon. It’s a lot of pressure.

We didn’t have a definite girl name for M until she was born and Craig brought me our digital camera with a photo of our little girl. I was still strapped to the table getting put back together after an emergent c-section. We’d had the boy name all set. She’d have been Logan if she had been a boy. We (probably me) were waffling between two girl names, and when I saw her I decided she looked like an M. Craig was worn out emotionally after the excitement of the day and the scare of fetal distress and just agreed to whatever I wanted. I like to think that he likes her name, but who knows?

With K, we had picked out his name fairly easily. He’s named after my maternal grandfather, and he has Craig’s middle name, which was also Craig’s paternal grandfather’s first name. If K had been a girl? Olivia.

I like names that aren’t common, yet aren’t too weird either. (So I guess it’s good that my kids weren’t the opposite sex that they are since their opposite-sex names are much more popular.) I don’t want my kids to go through life as “Heather H.” like I did. Not that there’s anything wrong with my name, it was just popular.

I have yet to meet another M or K who is the same age as my child. In fact, I have met very few M’s or K’s at all.

So we (and by we, I mean I) are leaning toward D.

Don’t you just love my alphabet game?

D is right around the same level of popularity as M and K are. So in that way the name would fit well with the other kids’ names. I saw one D in the photo spread of babies born in 2007 that our local paper publishes every year. That concerns me a little as far as the name popularity goes, but it could be just a fluke.

There is also that teasing/name-calling factor to consider. I came up with just a few names that I thought kids might tease her with, but I’m sure kids will come up with more regardless of what we name our child.

I told Craig that I worry that people will think that any name we choose is too off-the-wall. He told me it doesn’t matter what other people think. He’s right, and he’s not right I guess. It really just matters that we like the name. And, of course, she like her name. But I do think it matters a little what other people we know think of the name. I don’t want her to hear even the hint of distaste when someone speaks her name.

Oh I know they wouldn’t mean for it to sound that way, but sometimes you can’t help your tone. We can’t always be on our best behavior. We’re not robots.

So I should just say what we’re thinking of naming her and see what the opinion is, right? Except I don’t want to say what her name is until she is born. Because that’s how we like to do it. And because I like that there is still something to announce since we already know she’s a girl (supposedly). Because if everyone already knew she’s a girl and her name will be D, what would I say when she’s born other than, yep, she’s here?

I’m not sure why this name is stressing me out so much. I think I’m just more hormonal this pregnancy (which would indicate a girl also with all that estrogen). Or maybe it’s just that I know that this is the last one.

I thought K was my last baby so I tried to really focus on the great things about having a new baby when he was born. I thought it was sad when he rolled over the first time though. I didn’t want him to grow so quickly.

Heck, I still don’t want my kids to grow so quickly.

How did I get a daughter who, in actuality, will be a first-grader in just 3 months time?

How is it possible that K is almost 4?

Come to think of it, how is it possible that I will have another child next month? And who will she be?

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Psst! I've got a new post over at Midwest Parents about my dilemma with Destructo-Boy, K.

Just something I wondered...

What percentage of the times people type LOL are they actually laughing out loud?

Does Miss Manners have an opinion on that?

You’ve been there, haven’t you?

You’ve been the parent of the kid who reacts inappropriately to bodily functions, haven’t you?

My kids dissolve into giggles at the mere suggestion of passing gas.

My kids fart. A lot. Then laugh about it…even if they’re sitting at the snack tables at their schools. Where do they get it from? (The laughing, not the farting…I think we can all surmise where the gas comes from.)

Well, me. (Again, the laughing, not the farting.) And Craig. And the rest of our family. We’re a classy bunch. We laugh about farting, because you know, it’s funny. (Especially when you launch a sneak attack and blame it on the cat.)

Were you looking for an intelligent blog post to read? None here!

I’m recalling a comment from a parent in M’s preschool. I can’t remember if the remark was made in the group setting or if it was a side conversation, but her concern was basically that her child had been embarrassed at the snack table because the child farted and the other kids laughed. (I honestly do not remember who said this so if it’s you please don’t be offended.) The thing I am certain of is that I had no reply because I knew M would have been among the first to laugh, and probably point as well. (She may have even thrown in a “good one” for encouragement.)

I’ve already established that I’m teaching my children to be crude, but what should I be teaching them?

As adults, when an acquaintance lets one loose, we all politely pretend we didn’t hear it, then try to not breathe until the air is clear so that we don’t have to suffer the smell as well as the awkward silence about the elephant in the room.

Kids are not tactful like that. Although I can tell mine to ignore a toot until I’m blue in the face (tee hee), they will naturally laugh before their brains register that they’re supposed to (essentially) lie and pretend they didn’t hear. I suspect this will come with time. (Although it hasn’t worked for many adults…me included.)

What about when they, themselves, are the farters? What should I be teaching them to do or say? Ignore it? Pretend it was the person next to them? Blame it on the chair or their shoes? Say “I’m sorry” or “excuse me?”

What does Miss Manners think?

Well, she does, indeed have an opinion. I let my fingers do the googling and here’s what she said:
***************
Dear Miss Manners,
Let's say someone passes gas. They say, "Excuse me." Do you say, "You are excused"? My wife does this … I find it strange.

Gentle Reader,
Miss Manners has something even stranger for you: Etiquette's way of dealing with things that shouldn't happen is to pretend that they didn't.

So you—or, rather, that unfortunate "someone"—need not say, "Excuse me." And you are right that the response of "You are excused" has an unnecessarily imperious feel to it, as if you could equally well have refused.

Admittedly, the definition of things that shouldn't happen is arbitrary. Passing gas meets the definition, although, oddly enough, burping does not—unless you are doing it on purpose, in which case stop that this very minute.

(Here’s the link to where I found this: http://lifestyle.msn.com/Relationships/Article.aspx?cp-documentid=26661)
********************
So there we have it. Ignore, ignore, ignore. And don’t smell.

And don’t expect the cat to say “excuse me” either.

I'm not a math whiz, but...(#2)

At Hobby Lobby today, I was at the checkout purchasing my stickers and brads when a lady walked up to the cashier and asked her:


How much is 50 % off of $59.99?


Gah!


And the kicker? She had TWO of the items she was going to purchase.


**************************


Wondering what #1 was? Check it out here!

K and the potty are not friends

So here it is, the post I told myself I would not write. The post where I confess that I’m stressing about that-which-I-told-myself-I-would-not-stress-about.

You see, I stressed about my daughter learning to use the potty. It seemed like all of her peers had mastered the use of the potty. I knew that my daughter was just as brilliant as the other kids and wondered what I was doing wrong that she wasn’t “trained” yet. The moment I stopped stressing, she used the potty consistently to pee.

It’s the poop. Poop is another story altogether.

M wouldn’t poop in the potty. She finds the whole process distasteful.

Even as an infant she was a home-pooper. No matter how long we were out of the house on errands, fun, whatever, she would wait and poop the moment we got home. More than once, in anticipation of leaving the house, she would have an explosive, outfit-changing, poop just to get the business done quickly before we left for the day.

However, when it came time to poop in the potty, she refused completely. She simply didn’t poop for days. Then, when the pressure got to be too much, she’d poop a baseball. Not even kidding. It was amazing that she could get something that size out of her little butt.

I’m certain that I contributed to her poop anxiety. As I said, I was stressed about her learning to use the potty. I know that I put pressure on her. With her independent spirit, it should have come as no surprise to me that she showed me that I had no control over her toileting.

So here I am. Wanting K to use the potty, trying to be encouraging and not pressuring him, but getting slightly sick each time I have to change his pull-up. Let’s face it, preschooler poop is not the same as baby poop.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he were a once-a-day pooper. K is a three-to-five time a day pooper. Of course as an infant it was sometimes up to 8 times a day so he’s really cut back.

Honestly, I’d like a month or two off from changing poopie pants.

I have had the talk with him:

K, it’s time. You’re a big boy and it’s time to use the potty for pee pee AND for pooping.

Okay, he’ll answer. Usually he will poop in his pull-up approximately 5 minutes later.

I’ve put him in big boy underwear. He’s been able to keep it dry, but he will even poop on Lightening McQueen. I don’t particularly care to spend my days washing poop out of underwear again.

I’ve tried bribes, promises of new and exciting toys, swimming lessons. Nothing is worth the hassle of not pooping in his drawers.

I know everyone says that no one goes to college wearing diapers, but seriously, I’m starting to wonder.

I put him in the car to go somewhere and sniff something unpleasant.

Did you poop K?

No.

What’s that smell then?

So, I ask of you, oh wise Internet, what can I do? Am I destined to have 2 kids in diapers again?

Poop. You’re soooo not my friend.

Which is correct?

All of A sudden...
or
All of THE sudden...?

Because it really bugs me when I see the one that I think is incorrect. So I hope that I use the right one!

First or Third?

I enjoy reading. I hadn't read a lot lately, up until a month or two ago it had been taking me several months to get through a book. Now I'm back in the reading habit, especially since I've been having trouble sleeping at night. I've read probably 5 books, almost 6, in the last month or so.

I've been noticing that every book I've read has been written in the third person perspective. Not one written in first person. Why is that?

Is first person too personal for most people to read? I suppose if the subject matter of the book is highly emotional or disturbing it would make the reader feel too close to the subject matter to read in first person. Or is it just easier to write in third person for most authors?

So there you have some of the things that I wonder when I'm laying in bed not sleeping.

Interview

Slouching Mom graciously offered to send interview questions to some of her readers last week. Since she is such an amazing writer I thought I'd like to see what kind of questions she'd come up with for me. And she sent me some questions even though I apparently can't read!

1. So, be honest. You already have a girl and a boy. And now there's a third on the way! Are you hoping for a boy or a girl, or don't you care? Would M. and K. do better with a brother or a sister, do you think?
   
   Hmmm. This is a tough one. I haven’t been pregnant for very long so I haven’t had a ton of time to think about it. If I was totally honest I’d say I hope for another girl just because there are already 4 boys to the 1 girl in the cousin area. And the girl clothes are just so darn cute. And I know how girl parts work. Boy parts, not so much. Hence, K is not potty-trained yet. I can’t demonstrate how that thing works. In fact, I don’t know how to even start to help him with that area.
   
   On the other hand, boys need their mommies more. And I like to be needed.
   
   So, I guess I just want a baby…boy or girl. It’s all good.
   
   I think M and K will do fine with either, as well. But I’m probably in a delusional state. Pregnancy-induced euphoria?
   
2. Minnesota often gets a bad rap because it's so cold and snowy. Tell me something you love about living in Minnesota.
   
   Honestly, if I were to move away from Minnesota I would most miss (besides my family, who all live here in Minnesota) the distinct changing of the seasons. Sure you get those fluky days that are warmer or colder than normal but for the most part you experience the true four seasons here.
   
   When the leaves change color in autumn it is one of the most breathtaking sights. I get to see it every year.
   
   The winter snow hanging on the bare trees and against the dark green pines makes me think of Christmas in days gone by. The soft ping of tiny snowflakes hitting the window while I cuddle, warm, inside with my kids inspires me to do Sally Homemaker-type stuff like bake cookies. The muted sounds of everything when you venture outdoors.
   
   Everything that is brown turning green again. The clean scent to the air. Fresh spring rain.
   
   And summer? The hot days that beg for a swim that cool into a comfortable night. Those days that don’t cool spark spectacular thunderstorms that, while they terrify my kids, I actually love to lay in bed and listen to the rain pelting the roof and the thunder rolling over and over.
   
3. K.'s alternate nickname is "Accident Prone Man, Jr."; describe his most spectacular accident thus far.
   
   When he was about 16 months and still not the steadiest on his feet, he was playing in the garage at my parents’ house with his sister and his cousins. They play in the garage sometimes in the winter time because it’s too cold to go outside but they start to go stir-crazy in the house all the time. K was attempting to keep up with the big kids, tripped and fell on his face. On the concrete. Which promptly chipped off half of one of his front teeth. Have you ever had a mouth injury? Yeah, the mouth bleeds. A lot. Anywho. Call to the dentist (whom he’d never been to but luckily I had just taken M to so they would take K as a patient) who told me to bring him in for an x-ray. Let me tell you it is not fun to hold a screaming toddler’s head so that people can get an x-ray. He didn’t damage the root, which is what they were concerned about, so they sealed up his tooth a week or so later and built the tooth up a bit so it doesn’t look so chipped.
4. Do you feel as if you've become a better parent with each child? If so, in what ways?
   
   In some ways I suppose I have relaxed more. The way the “experts” say to do things often aren’t the best ways for my family, which really threw me for a loop as a new mom. Now I just do things my own wrong way and don’t worry about it so much. Also, with more than one child you don’t focus so much on one child and become one of those annoying parents who think their child does absolutely nothing wrong ever. Because let me tell you, my kids screw up often. But then, so do I.
   
5. Name the book you most recently finished and then review it.
   
   4 Blondes by Candace Bushnell.
   
   It is essentially 4 short stories about 4 blonde women (hence the title) who are upper-class and egotistical. The women spend much of their time thinking that the world owes them a favor. Perhaps this is a book for a younger woman or something…or at least a woman without children, because I found the women insufferable. Why did I keep reading? Because I have to finish reading a book if I start it. It’s just a rule. But seriously, skip this book. You won't be sorry.

*************************

Thank you to Slouching Mom for these great questions. It was fun to answer them!

I'd like to pass on the offer if anyone would like me to write some interview questions for them. Leave me a comment here, then shoot me an email so I know where to send the questions!

Busy day

Craig took the day off today as we thought today would be M's first day of Kindergarten. Well, officially it was since yesterday was "orientation." We dropped M off at school; she consented to allowing K, Craig and I walk her to the door; then confidently strode into the building.

I had a meeting this morning with my former boss at the ECFE program in town about a hopefully interesting and successful new project for the program. I felt interesting and like I had important thoughts and ideas...something that doesn't happen often for stay-home moms. I hope that this project can bring that feeling to other moms...whether they stay home or work outside the home. We'll see how it pans out and I'll link to it when I'm ready to share...if I am.

At the same time that I was at my meeting, Craig took K to the bank to cash in his piggie bank and deposit his birthday check from my in-laws, then they went to a "man" store to get some parts for the boat or something like that, then they went to a garage sale and picked up a free treadmill and a $2 Lite-brite cube. (The kids love the Lite-brite.)

Lunch then naps for the 3 family members not at school. Sorry M!

We all went to pick up M at school. I pulled into the pick-up lane and noticed one of the kindergarten teachers with M's friend from preschool that is her only friend attending the same school. I asked Craig to get out and tell her that A's mom is toward the back of the line in the red mini-van since she seemed sort-of lost-looking to me. He went and delivered the message and found M. I noticed him chatting with one of the teachers for a few minutes so after we were all set to go home I asked what was up.

Apparently the teachers had decided on their classes (they wanted to "observe" the kids for a bit first before dividing the kids up.) M is not in the same class as either of the two kids she knew previously, but that is probably fine. She tells me she has a new friend named Abby who she sat at lunch with.

The class list indicates that there is actually an Abigail in her class so that is a good sign.

M seems to really enjoy Kindergarten so far. I made it through today without any crying which is MUCH better than yesterday. I still miss the little girl who suddenly seems older, but I know she's enjoying being a big kid. Like I said before, another milestone...for M and for me.

I find myself missing days gone by, but as usual I enjoy each day, each age, more and more as my kids get older. I think I've experienced my favorite age with the kids and they get older and I appreciate what their current age brings. It's fun to see them develop into individuals. And sometimes it's not so fun too.

Tonight, the kids played Lite-Brite while Craig made supper (pork kabobs and fresh sweet corn-on-the-cob). M made pictures of horses and houses and K made things similar, but not-so-recognizable.

Baths, bed.

I asked K as I was rocking him tonight Do you know that I love you?

Yes.

Do you think I love you a little bit or a whole bunch?

He smiled. A whole bunch.

You're right.

Another good and bad day

You know, I keep trying to make good memories with my kids. We've been doing the "Fun Box" for that reason, and to avoid wasting days doing nothing but watch TV.

Last night the box decreed that we should go to Lark Toys in Kellogg, MN. I think a groan may have escaped my lips when the slip was pulled. M was excited as usual What does it say Mommy? I fudged and said "it says to go on a trip to a surprise place" (thank goodness she can't read much yet!). I thought I'd give myself an out in case I really didn't want to go in the morning.

This morning, I really didn't want to go, but I sucked it up. I only have a few more days before M starts school and I figured I didn't have anything else to do anyway....birthday party? What birthday party?

I'd never been there before. We've been past it at least a dozen or more times on our way to the river (that's the Mississippi to those not from around here) to fish or whatever but we've never stopped.

I thought the kids were going to explode from anticipation waiting for the 20 minutes before the next carousel ride (they run it once per half-hour). It's a beautiful wooden carousel.


The best part was that kids younger than 36 months are free to ride. Three and up pay $1. So I paid $2 for the three of us since K is just shy of 3 years old. I think that's the cheapest carousel ride ever.

After the ride we ate lunch there. The kids ate like crazy today. They ate about 10 mini-pancakes each for breakfast, both ate their grilled cheese sandwich for lunch, plus some fries and a pickle or two. As we were leaving we got a lunch sack of popcorn as well that the 2 of them had devoured in no time. (Normally they wouldn't eat anywhere near this much food.)

Since we were in the area, I headed to Wabasha to the National Eagle Center. Contrary to what the website implies, it is completed and open. However, it costs $4 per adult and $2 per child to go in it. Since I had no idea what was in the building I chose to forgo it this time. Both kids wanted to go in though. The building is really nice-looking architecturally. So, instead we went down to the water and just watched a few boats for a few minutes before M started asking to go across the river on the big bridge.

Of course we had to go across the bridge then. As we crossed, I started thinking maybe we should stop and get an ice cream in Nelson and soon M piped up Hey! We're in Wisconsin! Lets go to that one place and get ice cream. How does she remember this stuff?

They enjoyed their messy ice cream and we laughed about how messy they were. Then, time to head home. I'd thought K would pass out on the way and it would be a peaceful ride. Yeah, not so much.

Then, because I am a stupid, stupid woman, I went to Hobby Lobby, oh, with the kids. The instructions were laid out before we left the car: K will sit in the cart, there will be no screaming, M will stay by me, etc.

Did I mention that I am a stupid, stupid woman?

It was fine until we had to wait in the long line from hell to check out. I had found some shelves in the 90% off clearance so I couldn't just leave and go later to get the stuff. It would be gone.

K decided to stand up in the cart. Refused to sit. Then finally convinced to sit, decides to throw his ginkie. Yes, I know, he shouldn't have the ginkie anyway. He didn't have a nap and I wanted to shop a bit. The ginkie usually gets me a bit of time. Sue me.

Anywho. He chucks the ginkie once and M retrieves it for him. I tell him if you throw ginkie again, you will not get it ba--. Yeah. Ginkie's in the air already.

But he knew what I was going to say. I know he did. He knows the threat. So I had to follow through.

Mommy! I want my ginkie back! Mommy! I want my ginkie! I want my ginkie! I want my ginkie! Ginkie! I want my ginkie!

Um. Yeah. Until we got to the car. Do you think I got a few stares and disapproving head shakes in that store?

Do you think I had a bad mommy moment or two? Perhaps. M told me that I shouldn't use the words shut-up because they aren't nice. I thanked her for her perspective and tried to not pull any of my hair out.

Yep. I'm a good mommy and a crappy one all in one day.

On a slightly positive note, K has gone to bed without his ginkie...because I reminded him that he threw it and it is lost.

I really don't know what to do with him sometimes. M never had tantrums and freak outs of this magnitude. The boy is almost 3, really he should be able to miss a nap once in a while and not have a meltdown. M stopped napping by 2 1/2. I know you can't compare kids, but sheesh. Are there really that many 3 year olds who still need a nap every day? (I actually like it that he still naps, but once in a while it would be nice to let him miss it without a meltdown.)

So there it is. My day. Starts with fun and ends with crap! Oh, the wonderful life I lead!

Lucky redefined

I'm usually all wigged out on "Friday the 13th," but today I didn't even realize the date until Craig mentioned it on the phone this morning. Then, I promptly forgot again.

But if today was supposed to be unlucky, well, it failed. We went swimming at a local pool with my sister-in-law and her boys. We were there from noon until about 3 p.m. The day went surprisingly well considering K-man didn't have a nap. He fell asleep in Craig's and my bed before 7 tonight, but when I tried to move him to his bed he woke up. Currently, he's got his head by the crack under his door to periodically inquire "Daddy?" He should pass out soon from sheer exhaustion and sleep until at least 9 tomorrow. Maybe.

Miss M has been sleeping since about 7:30. The kids both had quick baths tonight (third night in a row for a bath when we usually do every other night) since they went swimming in a pool with chlorine again today (and yesterday! fun times!).

I bathed K first and set him loose to pester his Dad while M had her quickie bath. I was helping her get her pajamas on when she starts to examine my face a little too closely.

Mommy? Why do you get those pimples on your face all the time?

Sheesh. I was thinking my skin was pretty clear recently, save for 2 in the "kid's hair snuggle area," that always ensures at least one on my chin line.

My response? Oh, I'm just lucky I guess.

Mommy? I don't want to be lucky like you.

That's what I get for sarcasm.

What is up with that?

Is it a rule that when women get older that they turn into raging bitches? I'm just wondering because within the last year I have gotten more icy stares and disapproving head shakes than I care to admit.

They have all been from older women.

What makes these women become so bitter and uncharitable to a fellow woman who is most likely where she was a couple of decades ago?

I don't understand it.

If this is how I must act when I am older I'm beginning to think that it would be better to not live that long. Seriously. How much fun is life if you are irritated even by a little boy singing along with his big sister's choir concert? How bitter are you if you are irritated by a little boy having fun playing with a truck while his big sister has her swimming lesson?

I don't remember getting these looks when my daughter was K's age, but I think I left her home much of the time with my Dad when I needed to do grocery shopping and such. I probably was also so sleep-deprived that my eyes were barely open anyway.

Or maybe people are just not as tolerant of little boys being little boys.

Whatever. I'm tired of the angry old ladies giving me looks and saying inappropriate things to me.

Some days the kids are just going to be little shits. Deal with it old ladies. I'm not going to ruin my day so that you don't have to listen to my children for 5 minutes.

I sort of feel sorry for those old bitties. What kind of life must they be living?

Okay. No I don't.

Heather's philosophical question

If you hear a tree fall in the woods in the middle of the night, but the next day cannot find any fallen trees, did the tree really fall??