I Am Thankful For...Grapes

Grapes are great. Both of my boys gobble them up like they haven't eaten in weeks. In fact, grapes were Chase's first favorite food when he started eating solid foods. They were just about the only healthy food we could get him to eat for a very long time.

There are red grapes, green grapes, purple grapes. There are grapes with seeds and grapes without seeds. Then there are raisins, which are really just dried grapes.

But do you know what the best kind of grape is? The best kind of grape is the kind that has been fermented and comes in a bottle with a cork.

Yes, without grapes we would not have wine. And without wine, I would probably be in a mental institute right now.

So let's hear it for grapes. Red ones, green ones, purple ones, dried ones, and most importantly, bottled ones. Cheers!

Now this is my kind of wine glass.

*In the spirit of Thanksgiving, "I Am Thankful For..." is a blog challenge I have decided to do during the month of November. Each day I will pick one thing that I am thankful for and blog about it. Obviously I am extremely thankful for the many things in my life I am blessed with, such as a wonderful family, my health and my family's health, great friends, a roof over my head, food on the table, and more. But this series is about all the other day-to-day things that I sometimes take for granted and that make life just a little bit better -- you know, the little things. To see a list of all the posts in this series, please click here.

1 + 1 = 15

Over the weekend, Alec went over to a grandparent's house to play and spend the night. Immediately after he left our house, something very strange happened. My day became amazingly easier.

Now before you start thinking, well duh!, let me continue.

Obviously it's easier to take care of one child than it is to take care of two. But the strange part was that it felt like a whole bus-load of kids had left the house, not just one.

I had time to do laundry; I had time to play with Chase (like actually play with him - for more than 30 seconds); I had time to clean and do dishes; and when that glorious time called "nap time" came for Chase, I even had time to skim a few pages of a magazine and relax for a while.

I felt like in just a few hours with one child I had accomplished what normally takes me at least a few weeks to accomplish with two children.

I don't know about other moms with more than one child, but in my house I feel like I have about 15 kids, not just two. I mean, I know I'm outnumbered if Chad isn't home (and even when he is home we still feel outnumbered). But I'm only outnumbered by one tiny person. And sure, Alec and Chase each have their challenging moments, but overall they're both really good kids. So how can it really be that much harder to take care of two kids than it is to take care of one?

One sweet little boy

 +

One more sweet little boy

 =

Seriously? I left the room for a minute. ONE MINUTE! The only toy that we keep in the dining room has been scattered all over the floor. Chase has found and is playing with something he shouldn't be (a mute to Chad's trombone). Alec has located and turned on the central vac and is attempting to suck up his little brother. And where did Chase's pants go? There HAVE to be about 13 other little boys hiding somewhere. That is the only explanation as to how all this could happen in just ONE MINUTE.

Take laundry, for example. Doing a load of laundry with one boy is easy. He helps me sort the lights and darks into piles and then helps me put the laundry in the washer. When I'm folding, he plays nicely with his train table.

But add my other boy to the mix and it's a whole different story. I have laundry of all colors flying everywhere while the boys fight over who gets to put the clothes in the washer; then I have Alec pushing buttons on the washer while Chase runs around sporting Alec's (dirty) underwear on his head proclaiming he is Captain Hook. By the time I'm ready to fold the laundry, I realize that a red bathing suit has managed to find its way into the load of Chad's white dress shirts that are coming out of the dryer.

And how about those toys? When I actually take the time to straighten up the basement playroom, it takes my two boys all of 30 seconds to have every single toy out and thrown on the floor. Forget playing with the toys... The mission is simply to destroy the basement as quickly as possible. But with only one child around, the basement actually looked fairly neat for a whole ten minutes!

Bedtime was another time where I really noticed a significant difference.With Alec gone for one night, I was amazed at how easy bedtime seemed. Even with an extra ten minutes of snuggling Chase, I was still downstairs in time to catch the final round of Jeopardy. I think Alex Trebek was probably in his 40s the last time I saw this game show.

So what gives? Obviously one plus one does not equal fifteen. So why does my life get fifteen times harder when both kids are around? Why does having two children around make me feel like I'm responsible for caring for an entire football team of toddlers?

I suppose I can only hope that the pink dress shirts, destroyed basements and sacrificed game shows will all pay off in a few years when my two boys will be making my life fifteen times easier by helping around the house. Apparently Alec already has a passion for vacuuming, so that's at least a start. Hey, I can dream, right?

The Great Flu Shot Debate Solved

No, I'm not talking about the heated discussion you get into with the other mom at the playground over whether or not you are getting flu shots for your kid(s). I'm talking about the debate that goes on in my head that also happens to be pretty heated.

Every year at this time, I am forced to make a decision that I just can't seem to ever feel good about. Do I get the flu shot for my kids?

Normally I am very pro-vaccine. I have followed the vaccine recommendations set by the American Academy of Pediatrics, and I have no doubt that I am doing the right thing by having my children receive most of the vaccines that are available and recommended for them. Whooping cough, polio, Hepatitis, tetanus, etc. In fact, the only one that bothers me even a little is the chicken pox vaccine, but that's a blog for another day.

But back to the debate in my head... Here is what happens in my head every year at this time:

I should get the flu shot for my boys because my pediatrician recommends it. But...

It doesn't protect against all strains of the flu, so they could still get the flu anyway. But...

They've gotten the flu shot before and have never had a problem with it. But...

You've gone your whole life without getting a flu shot and you've never gotten the flu. But...

Wouldn't you rather get it for them and know you did what you could to protect them than end up with a child who gets hospitalized with serious complications from the flu when you could have done something about it? But...

Alec and Chase have pretty good immune systems, so why inject them with something that you aren't 100% sure about? But...

I think you get the idea. This goes on and on, day after day, night after sleepless night. And when I finally do decide whether to get or not get the shot for my boys I am still not sure of my decision. I feel like I'm back in high school taking a multiple choice test, and I'm stuck on a question where A and C could both be the answer. I might as well just flip a coin and let the coin decide.

I thought maybe blogging about it would help me come to a decision, but it seems all I've done is put my debate in writing, which is possibly even more confusing. I did, however, realize that there actually is a way to avoid the whole debate. If only I could figure out a way to become a bear, I could hibernate and avoid the whole flu season altogether.

I'm a super big "what if" person, which is why I think I have such a hard time with this decision. I knew being a parent would be hard, but it's these kinds of decisions that I feel are one of the hardest parts about being a parent. It seems like whichever choice I make will be wrong. Both choices have risks, and both choices have benefits. Usually I can easily justify the risks for the benefits, but this is one of the few times that I can't. Or can I? See what I mean? I literally drive myself crazy over this same decision every year.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this topic. Since blogging about it didn't help me come to a realistic decision, maybe your input will inspire me (though I have a feeling the responses will be just as opposite as the thoughts in my head!). Maybe I better seriously consider this becoming a bear thing...

Where Have I Been?

Well, if you've visited my blog in the past few weeks, you've probably been less than impressed. The same old post on motherhood-induced insomnia has been sitting there staring at readers for almost a month now.

I really thought that once school started for the boys I would be overwhelmed with time to write (without distractions). I mean, with those five glorious hours, I should have at least enough time to crank out two posts for the week, right? Ha - I guess the joke was on me!

Those five glorious hours have turned into a mad dash to catch up on things that I have let slip because I've been chauffeuring two boys to school, soccer practice, piano lessons, gym play time and fall activities.

We also squeezed in another trip to see my mom, which fortunately went nothing like the last trip to her house.

And over the past month I've learned a very valuable lesson about preschool. When your child gets "homework" in preschool, it's really homework for mom and dad. So evenings (and occasionally a rushed morning when I forget about the "homework" the night before) are now spent cutting, coloring, coming up with words that start with the letter C, and planning themed preschool snacks that look like circles, puppies, fire engines and more. Sure this is the same stuff we do even when the boys aren't in school. But now I actually have to do it on some kind of a schedule since the boys are in school during the time we would usually do this kind of thing. Let me let you in on a little secret... Preschool is really practice for parents.

On top of all the chauffeuring, road trips and homework, I am still trying to keep up with the other important things that need to get done, like checking facebook and watching all the season premiers on TV.

Needless to say, I haven't had much time to focus on writing since school started. So my apologies for the lack of posts over the past month. But I have plenty of posts ready to write, so stay tuned! New posts should be popping up very soon... just not tonight because I will be busy coming up with more "C" words and planning a dinosaur snack (ok, and watching Grey's Anatomy).

Motherhood-Induced Insomnia

When I was pregnant, it seemed like everyone had some advice they just had to share with me. They were sure to offer tips on everything from diaper rash cream to breastfeeding in public.

The biggest topic of advice usually centered around sleep. Sleep now, while you still can. Sleep when the baby sleeps. Sleep with the baby. Don't sleep with the baby. If you do sleep with the baby, don't sleep on the baby.

But there was one piece of advice about sleep that somehow everyone seemed to leave out. People somehow failed to mention that once you become a mother, you won't sleep the same again. Ever.

I remember being about seven months pregnant with Alec when the motherhood-induced insomnia began. I would wake up somewhere between 2-3am and be ready to go. I would just lie in bed for a few hours until I would finally fall back to sleep around 5am. I got to know every crease in our ceiling in the dark pretty well. Now, five years later, it seems not much has changed. Here is what happened to me last night.

11pm: Fall asleep
2:29am: Wake up to Chase yelling, "Mommy, Mommy" because he wants me to go cover him back up. Lie very still in hopes that Chad might get up first.
2:32am: Chad has not gotten up yet. He is lying very still too. Hmmmm.
2:33am: Sigh loudly as I drag myself out of bed and half sleep walk over to Chase's room.
2:34am: Change Chase's diaper and tuck him back in.
2:37am: Head back to my room, sneak back under the covers and roll over to go back to sleep.
2:38am: Realize that I am now wide awake and there is no sign of sleep in my near future. Attempt to sleep anyway.
2:48am: Get frustrated because trying to sleep is not working. Check facebook on my phone to see if anyone else is up at this hour. Nope. Roll back over to try to go to sleep again.
3:03am: More frustration. Start thinking about all the dishes and laundry that I didn't get to. Consider going to do them since I am wide awake. Almost laugh out loud because there is no way that is going to happen.
3:05am: Roll to my other side. Maybe that's the trick.
3:29am: Still wide awake. Extra frustration because I have hit the 1-hour mark. Begin calculating how much sleep I could get if I fall asleep right now.

3:31am: Roll on to my stomach to try to sleep.
3:42am: Realize that my mind is on overload thinking of pretty much everything from the permission slip that I need to fill out for Alec's preschool field trip to the lady who almost ran her cart in to me at the grocery store. And those damn dishes. And laundry.
3:43am: Decide that I will blog about this tomorrow. Realize that tomorrow is really today. More frustration.
3:44am: Time to try sleeping on my back as a last resort.
3:55am: Still awake. Maybe someone has posted something interesting on facebook in the last hour. Nope.
3:57am: Realize I am starting to get hungry. Is it too early for breakfast?
3:58am: Practice some sort of deep breathing technique that seems like it should make me tired. It does not.
4:29am: Still wide awake at the 2-hour mark. If I fall asleep now, I can still get two more full hours of sleep. If I add that to the three-and-a-half I got at the beginning of the night, that's almost six hours.
4:55am: So much for six hours of sleep.
4:56am: More unproductive thinking followed by several more attempts to find the magical sleep position.
5:17am: Start debating whether I should just get up for the day. While debating, I drift off to sleep after nearly three hours of motherhood-induced insomnia. Debate solved.
6:45am: I hear the toilet flush and find it unusual that Alec has gotten up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.
6:46am: Reality sets in. It is not the middle of the night. It is almost time to get up.

Sadly this is not an uncommon kind of night for me. Ever since that last trimester of my first pregnancy, I have developed a complete inability to fall asleep once I'm awake at night. So no, sleep will never be the same for me now that I have children.

I'm not sure why people felt the need to leave this one piece of crucial advice out. Not that it would have changed my mind about having children. But it sure would have been nice for someone to tell me that once children enter the picture, sleep pretty much leaves the picture for good. Or at least it really changes for good. That tip would have been much more useful than the one about not sleeping on my baby. I mean, how can I sleep on my baby when I'm not even sleeping?

Chad must have taken this picture of me after a night of motherhood-induced insomnia.

Side note: Speaking of Chad, I feel that I would be a terrible wife if I didn't own up to the fact that Chad is often the one to deal with the middle-of-the-night kid wake up. Fortunately we have two pretty good sleepers, so we don't have to deal with this often. But when they do wake up, Chad is frequently the first to get out of bed. I'd say I'm just better at fake sleeping, but in reality I just have an awesome husband!

Four Ways to Scare Mom

As parents, we have endless things to worry about: Keeping our kids healthy, keeping them safe, keeping them from picking their noses in public…

But on top of all the day-to-day worries, I have found four things that don't just worry me... they scare the living you-know-what out of me.

1. A missing crayon. Chase loves to color. And for the most part he’s pretty good with crayons and markers. But he’s two, and I know all too well what can happen if he gets a hold of a crayon while he’s unsupervised. Furniture and walls – especially the light-colored ones – are like an artist’s blank canvas to a 2-year-old. So when Chase is done coloring and we put away the crayons, I have a moment of panic when I can only find 23 out of the 24 crayons.

Let's see... I have Burnt Sienna, Hot Magenta, Neon Carrot, Outrageous Orange... But where is the Atomic Tangerine? CHASE - get back here!

2. One (hyphenated) word: Uh-oh. Basically, "uh-oh" in 4-year-old translates to "Oh s#!%" in adult language. When I hear Alec yell "uh-oh," I know that it can mean anything from one of my boys spilling a cup of milk to one of them flushing his brother’s favorite stuffed animal down the toilet…or anything in between.

3. A missing marble. Similar to the missing crayon, but for a very different reason. My boys love the game Hungry Hungry Hippos. If you’re familiar with it, you probably already know that it contains 20 marbles. When I put this game away and realize that we only have 19 marbles, I feel a sudden panic similar to that of the missing crayon. The difference between the crayon and marble is that with the crayon, I need to worry about what part of my house was destroyed, but with a missing marble, I need to worry about which child ingested it or shoved it into his (or his brother’s) ear, nose or an even worse part of the body.

Look at all these marbles....and I'm pretty sure there is a corresponding body part in which a child can find to place each one.

4. Silence. Silence can be a wonderful thing when it comes to children. Those first 10 minutes after the kids are in bed are absolute heaven to my ears! No one is whining, yelling, crying, singing or making gross noises with their armpits. But silence can also be a very scary feeling. If you have or have had young children, I’m sure you know the feeling… You go to fold a load of laundry while your kids are happily playing. At some point while you’re folding, you subconsciously realize that the kids are being nice and quiet. When you’re done folding you now consciously realize that you haven’t heard your kids in a while. It is in that exact moment when you realize that the house is TOO quiet. Why is it too quiet? Probably because your 2-year-old has found the missing crayon...

Every Other Minute

The other night I was at an event with Chad, and I was talking with a lady who has grown children. She said to me, "Oh it's so nice when they're grown up."

I can't even begin to tell you how relieved I was to hear this. After hearing person after person tell me to enjoy every minute of my children while they're young, it was so refreshing to hear someone who is happy with grown children. It's almost like people are saying that once children grow up they can't be enjoyed anymore. I really hope that's not the case! I'd like to think that with every age, from birth through adulthood, there are good things and bad things, moments to enjoy and challenges to overcome.

Last night I had a long battle with Alec, which was the result of him losing his bedtime book after he procrastinated way too long. During this battle, he cried and screamed at me. He yelled threats at me, warning that, "If you don't read me this book I'm going to follow you out of my room and be noisy instead of going to sleep!"

Once he had finally calmed down, I lay with him as he fell asleep. I normally don't do this because if I'm in the room with him at bedtime he usually doesn't stop talking, telling stories, playing games, etc. But based on the book battle and his behavior, I knew how tired he was. So I stayed in bed with him and watched him fall asleep. And after he was asleep I lay there for a few more minutes just watching him.

During the minutes when I was snuggling with Alec and watching him fall asleep, I can guarantee you that I was enjoying every second. I was completely focused on the precious 4-year-old boy snuggled right next to me.

And there are plenty of other times when I fully enjoy every second of my boys. When Chase climbs into my lap and curls up with me, sucking his thumb and twirling his hair. When the boys and I are playing an exciting game of tag and all giggling, squealing and smiling with pure joy. When I watch Alec trying to help Chase with something.

But during the ten minutes of screaming and yelling last night, I can't say I was enjoying every minute. And honestly I really can't say that I enjoy every minute of parenting at all. I mean, I do enjoy being a mother, and I love my boys unconditionally. But do I always enjoy them? Absolutely not. In fact, too much of any good thing can become unenjoyable very quickly.

Take pizza, for instance. Pizza is a great food, and most people love it. But imagine if you had to eat pizza (or a different favorite food if pizza's not your thing) for every meal of every day for the rest of your life. Sure some days you could have pepperoni, some days you could have plain cheese, and other days you could go wild and have supreme. But no matter how much you love pizza, if you were on your 400th slice and someone was telling you to "enjoy every bite," I'm pretty sure you'd want to shove the pizza in that person's face. I know I would!

So when someone tells me to "enjoy every minute" with my young children, I have to resist the urge to tell them where they can shove their pizza. Because for every minute of snuggling, there is a minute of yelling. For every minute of thumb-sucking, there is a minute of crying. For every minute of playing there is a minute of fighting. For every minute of one boy helping his brother, there is a minute (ok - ten minutes) of that same boy beating his brother up.

A moment that I am enjoying watching Chase sleep

Another Chase moment that is not as enjoyable

I'd say I enjoy about every other minute of my kids at this young age. And I'm ok with that. Because the moments I don't enjoy just make me enjoy the other moments even more. I never would have enjoyed that snuggle with Alec as much as I did if it weren't a fight to get there. Sure I would have enjoyed it. I mean, what's not to love about a sleeping 4-year-old?! But the battle to get there made me appreciate it so much more.

A moment where I am enjoying Alec lick his first beater (when he was about 2)

A moment later (when I took the beater away from him) I wasn't enjoying him quite as much

Who knows... Maybe twenty years from now I'll look back at this post and want to kick some sense into my younger self. Maybe I'll wish that I had enjoyed the yelling, the crying, the arguing and the fighting. Or maybe I'll look at my grown children and enjoy every minute of them as adults...well, maybe every other minute.

He's Home!

Chad just got back from a 5-day business trip to Texas.

These are some highlights from while he was gone.

Missed Days 1 & 2? Check them out here!

Missed Days 3 & 4? Check them out here!

~Day 5~

The boys sleep in again today. But this time they actually sleep in. Until 8:45am! I feel like Super Mom. Maybe Chad should go away more often! Ok, maybe not. Things have gone much better than I expected, but I am definitely ready for him to get home.

The boys are still in their PJs at 11am, so I think it's safe to say we're not going anywhere this morning. We all need some down time after our busy few days.

Alec has his last swimming lesson tonight, so I have one more mission to accomplish before my week as a single parent is over. Fortunately Chad's mom is coming over to watch Chase while I take Alec to his lesson.



Alec enjoying his last swimming lesson for this year

Swimming goes well. We get home, have dinner and get ready for bath. Chad is usually the one who does bathtime with the boys, so giving them baths this week has been somewhat of an unfamiliar experience for me. Sure I've given them baths before, but I don't do it very often. I come out of the bathroom feeling like I have just lost a big battle with a garden hose.

I get the boys in bed around 8pm, and the countdown begins. Chad's plane is scheduled to get in at 11pm, so he should be home around midnight. I realize there is no way I am going to be able to stay awake for four hours. I settle in to spend some quality time catching up on my DVR'd episodes of The Bachelorette.



My guilty pleasure

While I am watching 13 guys produce more drama than a room full of PMSing teenage girls, I notice a faint smell. It is a pleasant smell, but I can't place it. I dismiss it and continue to watch the 13 men fight for Emily's "true love." A little while later I notice the same pleasant smell again, but I still can't place it. It's almost like a candle, but not as strong. I make it through one episode of man drama and decide I've had enough drama for one night. I head up to bed.

When I get up to my room, I notice that smell again and begin a thorough investigation to find out where it is coming from. After almost convincing myself that I am imagining things, I finally figure out what it is. My hands smell like the boys' shampoo from washing their hair earlier. I fall asleep happy, hoping I can remember this scent for a long time.

I hear Chad get home around midnight. I semi-consciously mumble a "hello" and "I missed you" to him before returning to my state of exhausted unconsciousness. Unlike the night when Chad left, I have no problem falling back to sleep this time.

~Day 6~

Daddy is home! And he has taken the day off of work! We spend a nice day together as a family, and Chad and I go out for dinner and a show in the evening.

That night while I am getting ready for bed, I think back to the past few days. I made it through five full days without Chad. Not only did I make it, but I actually enjoyed it. I had a really fun time with my boys, and they seemed to have a fun time with me, too.

It's not that we don't have fun together normally. We do. But I often find myself frustrated and at my wits' end with the boys. But this week was different. Despite the shredded wipes, stashed bacon bits and the bathtime hurricane, I managed to really enjoy my boys without feeling overly stressed.

I am definitely ready for Chad to be home, but after these past few days of being on my own with my boys I feel almost like a better mom now. I feel a sense of accomplishment that I don't normally feel. Maybe it was the extra 90 minutes of sleep the boys let me have yesterday. Maybe it was the smell of baby shampoo on my hands. Maybe it was the smiles on the boys faces when they saw their Daddy this morning (or the bigger smiles when they saw he brought back surprises!). Who knows. But whatever it was has left me smiling and feeling ready to tackle whatever my boys have in store for me next, even if it is decorating the bathroom with toilet paper...again.

Chase loved his surprises that Daddy brought back from Texas

Four Down, One to go

Chad just got back from a 5-day business trip to Texas. 

These are some highlights from while he was gone. 

Missed Days 1 & 2? Check them out here!

 

~Day 3~

Alec and Chase get up at 7:00am. I have decided that today is going to be a great day.

We head downstairs, and I take the dog out. While outside, she rolls around in poop. Awesome. So much for that great day. I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing at 7:15am than bathing a dog that rolled in poop. Is it too early to open that bottle in the fridge?

Now that the dog is clean, we need to get ready to go to a birthday party for our friends' son who is turning one. It is a pool party, so the boys are very excited. I somehow manage to get everyone dressed, load the pool bag, wrap the present and make it out the door on time.

We spend most of the day at the party, so nap time/quiet time doesn't happen. By the time we get home I am exhausted, and the boys are too. But it's already almost bedtime for the kids, and after bedtime it is girl's night!

I put the kids down about a half hour early because they are exhausted and because I don't have the energy to do anything other than sit down and space out. My friends get here a little while later. It is finally time to open that bottle!

I have a great time actually having a conversation with other adults, and I am comforted by the fact that my kids are not the only ones who have had issues with wipes, bacon bits, toilet paper and similar objects. I go to bed feeling like I can tackle the next two days.

~Day 4~

The boys "sleep in" until 7:38am. They really DO love me!

We've been running around like crazy for the past few days, so today we just hang out at home. For the most part we don't drive each other crazy.

I have decided that if Chase takes a long nap, I am going to attempt to take the boys to the drive-in movie theater to see Madagascar 3 tonight. I'm not sure if this makes me a good mom or a crazy mom. I'm leaning toward the latter.

Chase takes an awesome nap, so the drive-in is on! We head over around 6:30pm to get a good spot and have dinner there.

The boys couldn't have behaved any better. They were so good and had a great time, although I think they enjoyed having free roam of the car better than actually watching the movie. We head home at 11:00pm. This is later than the boys have ever been up. They fall asleep as soon as the car starts moving!

Once home, I transfer the boys to their beds, head over to my bed and pass out as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Ready to hear about Days 5 & 6? Here they are!

Two Down, Three to go

Chad just got back from a 5-day business trip to Texas. 

These are some highlights from while he was gone.

~Day 1~

Chad's flight was scheduled to leave at 5:55am, so his alarm went off at 3:45am. He was super quiet getting ready and getting out the door, but since becoming a mother I have somehow developed the inability to fall back to sleep once I'm even a little bit awake at night. So I watched the clock tick until about 5:30am when I finally drifted off.

The boys were up at their normal time (about 7:15am), and both were in surprisingly good moods. We got ready and set out for a play date at a local bouncy house venue. We played there for a while and had lunch, and again the boys were on their (mostly) best behavior.

After exhausting ourselves jumping, bouncing and sliding, we came home and the boys had nap time/quiet time, followed by more good moods, dinner, play and bedtime. Overall a really great day.

~Day 2~

The boys were up at 7:15am. I was already showered and dressed. WIN!

They were playing nicely together, so I decided to dry my hair. Bad idea. When I got done, Chase came into the bathroom with a mouthful of something and told me he was eating crackers. Apparently he helped himself. FAIL. (Although I guess crackers are better than some other things...)

I went to get him a clean diaper and noticed his wipes were missing. I asked him where they were, and he pointed to his bed. Yep, they were there alright. All 100 of them ripped up and scattered all over his bed. FAIL.

So it's 7:30am, and the score is: Kids - 2, Mommy - 1. Time to let them watch TV before they somehow manage to burn the house down.

After a thrilling episode of Little Einsteins (ok, and a Bob the Builder, too), we head out for our first errand. We need to get photos taken for our summer pool pass. This went better than expected because I found out that we could just use our passes from last year. So I didn't have to fight a 4-year-old to look at the camera and do something other than smush his cheeks together and stick his tongue out (yes, we are in that phase now).

Next up, the liquor store. No really, I'm serious. With Chad out of town for five days, I decided it was the perfect time to host a girl's night at my house after the kids were in bed. So into the Wine and Spirits store I went with my 2-year-old and 4-year-old to purchase some drinks for the next night's vent-about-our-kids event. This errand also went well.

Our last errand was the grocery store. The first two errands went so well that I was sure the grocery store would be a disaster. But somehow this errand went just as well. I'm sure the playroom for Alec and the endless snacks for Chase had nothing to do with their cooperation.

Once we were home, I unloaded the groceries and got lunch ready. Other than the crackers and the wipes, the day was going really well. I was starting to think that maybe I could get through these next few days without going completely crazy.

While I was doing the dishes, Chase came into the kitchen with wet hands. He told me he went pee-pee. Now I know this isn't true because he isn't potty trained yet. But he does, on occasion, like to go into the bathroom and sit on the little potty or stand by the big potty and pretend to go. So I assumed that was what had happened. But that didn't explain the wet hands. So I asked him if he washed his hands, which he also likes to do on occasion. He said yes, but it seemed like there was more to the story. That was when Alec told me that Chase stuck his hands in the pee-pee water. Lovely. So I went into the bathroom to wash Chase's hands for real, and this is what I found:

FAIL!

I washed Chase's hands and then cleaned up the toilet paper mess. Now it was time for Chase's nap. But where was Chase? Off I went to look for him. Here is where I found him:

Yes, those are bacon bits and sprinkles that he has smuggled under the table. So much for making it through the next few days without going crazy.

After swearing to never let Chase out of my site again, we head up for nap time. The dog can clean up the bacon bits on the floor.

Finally Chase is down for his nap. What's that Alec? You want to play your Leapster for the next two hours? Go for it! I'll be downstairs resisting the urge to open up one of those bottles for tomorrow's girl's night. My friends would understand, right?

Nap time is over. We are heading over to a friend's house for dinner tonight. This is good because I can't deal with any more wipes or bacon bits incidents today!

The boys had a blast and tired themselves (and me) out. Next it's home from dinner and playing, and then bedtime...for everyone!

Ready to hear about Days 3 & 4? Here they are!

The Interesting Situation

Last week I had an evening meeting to attend, so Chad stayed home with the boys. When I got home and asked Chad how things went, he replied that everything was fine, but that there was one interesting situation.

Before I go into the details of the interesting situation, there are three bits of background you should know.

First, you should know that Chad and I have been very lucky with our kids in the bathtub. We know plenty of people who have dealt with the "poop in the tub" incident, but fortunately we have somehow managed to avoid that situation.

Second, you should know that I am one of "those" parents who has chosen not to potty train my boys at the age of six months. Yes, Chase is two. Yes, he shows signs that he's ready to potty train. No, I have not started potty training him yet. I waited until Alec was three, and it was one of the easiest parenting experiences I have ever had, so I plan to do the same with Chase. Judge all you want.

Finally, you should know a little bit more about Alec's personality. He is a very serious boy, who takes things very literally. He is the first to let me know if someone isn't following the rules in a game, and he makes sure to let me know whenever Chase is doing something he shouldn't be doing.

So back to the interesting situation... (Can you see where this is going yet?)

Chad was giving the boys a bath together, and he had stepped out of the bathroom for just a minute to get their pajamas. Apparently, the 30 seconds that Chad chose to leave the bathroom were the same 30 seconds that Chase felt the need to do his business. Since this had never happened while in the tub before, Chase was not sure what to do. On some level he must have realized that he shouldn't poop in the tub or on his brother. But he didn't quite know enough to sit on the big potty to do it. So what did he do? He got out of the tub and did his business right smack dab on the bathroom rug.

Alec, being the meticulous child he is, proceeded to frantically yell, "Daddy, Chase pooped on the floor!" at the top of his lungs.

Oh, but it gets better. You see, since Chad and I have been married for over 10 years now, and since we're now parents, we have graduated to the level of talking about our kids' poop like we talk about the weather. So in an effort to better understand how bad the situation was, I asked Chad if it was easy to clean up. His response? "Well, it was until Chase stepped in it."

By the time Chad got done telling the story, I had tears coming down my face. And do you know what the best part of this whole story was? I wasn't even there when the whole "interesting situation" happened! I love that something like this actually happened with someone other than me. I'm not sure Chad feels the same way, but even he was laughing a little bit while telling me the story. Though I bet next time he'll make sure the pajamas are ready to go before bath time...

My Mother's Day Picture

This Mother's Day was my fifth Mother's Day as a mother, and on Saturday (the day before Mother's Day) I told Chad there was one thing I wanted for Mother's Day. After he gave me a look that said Do you realize that Mother's Day is tomorrow and there's no way I'm going to pull off getting you something else?, I think he was relieved to hear my request. I wanted a picture of me with my boys.

Why did I want a picture of me with my boys? Well, there's the obvious reason that I am their mother and it was Mother's Day. But as I was searching through more than two years worth of photos to find a few photos of me with Alec and Chase together to use as profile photos, I found about three. Three photos of me with my boys. From the past two years. I'm not great at math, but I'm pretty sure that works out to about one a year.

It's not that we don't have photos of the boys. I didn't count, but I'm pretty sure we're into the five digits of photos of the boys. And there are plenty of photos of the boys with Chad, the boys with grandparents, the boys with friends, the boys with the dog. But only three photos of the boys with their own mother.

Why were there only three photos of me with my boys? Well, mothers wear many hats, including but not limited to chef, nurse, maid, and now photographer. Since I'm always the one taking the pictures, I never seem to make it into many photos myself.

So after Chad learned that all I wanted for Mother's Day was for him to take a picture of me with the boys, I think he felt like he got off easy. At least he felt that way until picture time.

You see, since I've been the family photographer for four years now, I've learned a little bit about taking photos of kids. I've learned that it takes about 50 photos just to get one kind of good one. If I want a really good photo, I can count on at least 100 tries, a little bit of luck and lots of frustration.

So here is a glimpse into my Mother's Day picture:

Attempt #1: Let's try to get a shot of the three of us on the couch.

Chase is looking at the camera like I'm squeezing the air out of him, and Alec is looking somewhere else.

Now Alec is begrudgingly looking at the camera but Chase is looking somewhere else.

Alec is already tired of having his picture taken and is now goofing off, and Chase is ready for his nap.

Now Chase is goofing of and Alec is once again not looking at the camera.

Well at least I'm still smiling.

Ok, I think we've all had enough of our first attempt.

Attempt #2: Let's go outside this time.

The boys actually look good...it's me who wasn't ready this time.

Ok, I'm ready now...but the boys are not.

 

I don't even know what's going on here.

More goofing off from the boys.

I'm pretty sure this was Chad's attempt at humor.

Let's try to get the boys to give me a kiss before calling it quits.

And the Winners:

I honestly don't know what people did before digital cameras. I can't even imagine how many photos were thrown away and how much money was wasted on photos of mom's butt.

So next year when Mother's Day rolls around again and I tell Chad that I want another photo of me with the boys, he might think twice about feeling relieved. At least I can't complain about not having any pictures of me with my boys now!

In Twenty Years

Ok. If you're reading this and you have young kids of your own, I want you to do something. Picture them in about 20 years or so. If they could be doing anything you want, what would it be? Quick, pick the first thing that comes to mind.

Here's my answer to this question. In my perfect future for my kids, Alec ends up playing piano on Broadway and Chase ends up scoring touchdowns for the Pittsburgh Steelers. (I guess it could be the other way around, but with Alec's two left feet I'm pretty sure that when it comes to sports he takes after Chad, who was traumatized for life during a t-ball game when he was playing first base, the other team hit the ball and Chad ran the bases. Plus, based on Alec's two months of piano lessons resulting in the ability to play Funny Little Man, Going Up Bounce Bounce AND Hot Cross Buns at the age of four, I feel much more confident in his musical talents.)

This future for my kids would be great... I could get free (front row) tickets to Broadway shows AND have free (awesome) seats at every Steelers game. My kids would both be considered super successful, and I would get some pretty good perks as well. Of course in my fantasy dream, Alec would land his first audition and Chase would never get hurt on the field.

But then I got to thinking... that's what I would want for my kids. That doesn't mean that that's what they will want for themselves. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that all I really want for my kids is for them to be happy. That's all I really want for them now, 20 years from now, 50 years from now, etc...

Honestly, I really don't care what they end up doing. They could be teachers, carpenters, lawyers, fishermen, car salesmen, really anything. Heck, they could be ballerinas or bank robbers for all I care, as long as it makes them happy! (Ok, maybe the bank robber part wouldn't really be part of my dream.) But I seriously don't care what they end up doing, as long as it makes them happy.

I don't know about other parents, but I know I spend a lot of time trying to make my kids happy. I play game after game of "Go Fish;" I laugh at jokes that make no sense; I exhaust myself by running lap after lap around the house chasing (or being chased by) my boys; I spend more time than I care to admit stuffed in closets, crammed under beds and crouching in bathtubs in riveting games of hide-and-seek.

I don't do all this because of the thrill of not knowing if another person has a whale card in their hands or because I have a secret love of hiding in dark, stuffy places. I do this because it makes my kids happy. And if my boys are happy, that makes me happy.

Maybe I'm being selfish. Afterall, seeing them unhappy causes me to feel their pain. I can't stand seeing my children hurt or sick; I hate the feeling of having to take away a toy, even though I know I'm teaching them a lesson; I cry inside every time they're disappointed. And as their mother, all I want to do is make things better. I just want them to be happy.

So after all this thinking, I've changed my dream for them. In my revised answer to my original question, Alec is still on Broadway and Chase is still at Heinz Field, but they are both HAPPY with what they're doing.

The Day I Became a Clueless Mother

Four years ago today, I was 37 weeks pregnant with my first child. For two weeks straight I had been experiencing excruciating back pain that brought me to tears each day, limited how much I could sleep and forced me to spend almost every hour of the day bent over on my hands and knees on a couch because that was the only position that would even slightly reduce the pain. After two trips to the hospital, numerous blood and urine tests and eight tries to get an IV into me, the doctor still had no explanation for the pain. He gave me a prescription of Vicodin that he assured me would not harm the baby, but after taking it for three days with no relief I stopped because I saw no reason to put ineffective drugs into my body where my unborn child was living. My mom had been staying with us for about a week to help out while Chad was at work.

Four years ago today, my mom drove me to my doctor's office where Chad met me for my routine 37-week check-up. The doctor we were seeing that day was one that we had seen only once or twice before, and he was known for his sense of humor. Upon examination, he informed me that I was 6 cm dilated. Ok, haha, I thought, not really in a joking mood and just wanting to get back to the (dis)comfort of my hands, knees and couch at home. But when he looked at me seriously and asked if I was sure I wasn't having contractions, I knew he was not joking. He called the doctor from the practice who was on call at the hospital, and a few minutes later Chad and I were on our way home to get our suitcase and head for the hospital.

Four years ago today, Chad and I made our way up to the labor and delivery ward of the hospital, still trying to grasp the concept that we were about to have a baby. I assumed my hands-and-knees position in the hospital bed and waited for the doctor to come in. I'm pretty sure when she walked into the room she thought she had mistakenly walked in on a proctology patient, but after a brief explanation she realized the situation. It had only been about two hours since I had my check-up, and I was now 7 cm dilated, still not having any contractions. I knew right from the start of the pregnancy that I didn't want to be a hero if I didn't have to be, and I knew I wanted an epidural if there was time for one. Fortunately there was, though I think just barely. I won't go into many details of the delivery itself, but I will say that it was cake compared to the back pain that I had been having. I would go through that labor and delivery ten times before going through even one hour of the back pain I had. Fortunately as soon as the epidural kicked in the back pain disappeared completely and I felt amazing! After about five hours of easy labor and 30 minutes of pushing, our little boy arrived.

Four years ago today, Alec James entered our world and changed our lives forever. At exactly 10:05pm on January 31, 2008, I became a clueless mother. I stared at my little 6lb., 10oz. boy with a full head of hair and wondered what happened next.

What happened next was a blur of four years of Alec that has brought us to today. The past four years have been the hardest years of my life. I have never worked harder or been more exhausted. I have also never been so proud of my hard work. Every day, Alec amazes me with something he knows, humors me with something he says or brings me to tears with his tears. Somewhere in the past four years, Alec went from being a tiny little baby to a wonderful boy, and I am so proud of the boy he is turning into.

While I'm still a clueless mother, four years has made me pretty good at pretending I know what I'm doing. I still can't believe I have a child who is old enough to be sitting next to me playing his Leapster while I blog about him. I'm not saying the years have gone by quickly like I will probably say one day. But they have definitely been full of memories. And I can't wait to see what memories the coming years bring.

Happy 4th Birthday Alec James!!!



It's Not Fair!

Ok, maybe I sound like a whiny little kid. But it's the truth: it's not fair!

Having children has taught me many things. It has taught me how to get myself from a sound sleep in bed to a semi-functioning adult in the car in under 10 minutes. It has taught me the humor in jokes that go like this: Alec - "Knock knock"; Me - "Who's there?"; Alec - "Banana"; Me - "Banana who?"; Alec - "Banana basket." It has taught me patience (ok, maybe I'm still working on that one). But I think the biggest lesson I have learned from having children is that life just isn't fair, especially with children.

I've always known that life isn't fair. People pass away who shouldn't. The rich get richer while the poor get poorer. The one day I run to the store for one lone item without even brushing my hair before leaving the house is the one day I run into five people I know. But having children puts a whole new perspective on the unfairness of life. Here are a few examples of what I mean:

1) Kids get sick. It's a part of life -- not a fun part, but an unavoidable part. But what's really not fair about it is that they always seem to get sick at the worst times. There's no real "good" time to be sick, but there are definitely times that are worse than others. Like a holiday, trip, or special event that the kids have been excited about for weeks. But you know that one week where you don't have any plans or anything going on over the weekend? Yep, that's the week that the entire family is healthy.

2) Housework takes twice as long, and there is ten times as much of it. How's that for unfair? Having extra people in the house means extra laundry, extra dishes and extra messes. But it's not that simple. You see, loading the dishwasher by myself takes about 10 minutes. But with a 21-month-old and a 4-year-old, I have to factor in their "help." For every one dish I put into the dishwasher, somehow two dishes get removed. Maybe each kid takes one out? I don't know... I just know that the more I try to fill the dishwasher, the emptier it gets. Same with laundry. And cleaning. It doesn't take a math genius to realize that when you have twice as much work, which takes twice as long to do, that's a lot of time that I could be spending doing something else!

3) Kids don't like to sleep when we do. If your kids are anything like mine, at least one of them is almost always up in the morning before I am ready to be awake. Alec is usually up at 7am, which I should be thankful for because I have several friends whose children are awake at 6am or even in the 5 o'clock hour. Regardless, when I get that 7am wake-up call I just want to crawl deeper under the covers and go back to sleep. But did you notice that I said this is "almost" always the case? There's always that ONE time when we actually have to get up at 7am, and THAT would be the one time when my kids both decide they need to catch up on sleep. It's not fair!

4) Kids drive us crazy for years, then don't want anything to do with us. This one seems the most unfair to me. As much as I love my children and enjoy spending time with them now, I tend to go a little crazy being around them ALL the time. I find myself constantly wishing for a few minutes of me-time throughout the day. Unlike Gwen Stefani, I haven't resorted to locking myself in a closet to escape yet, but that day may not be too far away! It seems like one of them always needs something from me - a clean diaper, a cup of juice, help with a puzzle, a towel to wipe up a spill. I know this is what I signed up for, and most days I really don't mind being a chef, maid, chauffeur, and nurse all at once. But some days I would give almost anything just to be able to finish a cup of coffee in the morning. But I also know that 12 years from now my boys won't want anything to do with me. They will be independent teenagers, embarrassed just to be seen within 10 feet of me. Forget hugs, kisses or snuggles. I know without a doubt that when that day comes I will be wishing for a spilled cup of juice or for one of them to need my help with homework. (Although at this point they will probably be sleeping in AND I will be able to finish a cup of coffee in the morning!)

So why can't my kids be healthy all the time? Why can't the housework take care of itself? Why can't my kids sleep until 9am every day? Why can't I have one day a month now that my kids want nothing to do with me, and then have one day a month 10 years from now when they want to spend all day with me? The simple answer is that life just isn't fair. But that just makes it even more important to enjoy the weeks when they are healthy, even if we don't have plans, or their help with my chores, or those rare days when they do sleep in, or their dependence on me. Because while life with kids may not be fair, that doesn't mean it can't be enjoyable. Afterall, a week at home with healthy kids who like to help with housework isn't exactly something to complain about!

I Want the Treat, Not the Trick

This past Halloween was a fun one for us. It was the first year that Alec really understood what was going on and had fun dressing up and going house to house for candy. Even Chase kept his costume on and made it around the whole block. It was also the first year that I passed out treats to the trick-or-treaters. In past years either Chad has done this or we haven't been home.

While passing out candy to all the little princesses, dinosaurs, ghosts, superheroes and monkeys, I began to realize that there were two distinctly different types of children. On one hand, there were the kids that would cautiously walk up to the door, shyly say "trick-or-treat" and act very appreciative when I let them pick out their own treat from the bucket. They were always very polite and never walked away without saying "thank you." On the other hand, there were the kids who ran at top speed from the last house they visited up to our porch. They shoved a hand into the bucket, grabbed as much candy as they could and ran to the next house without so much as a "thank you" or "Happy Halloween," and in most cases I didn't even get a "trick-or-treat" when they arrived. I also noticed that it really didn't matter what age the kids were, so I never knew whether I was going to get a "trick" kid or "treat" kid when a trick-or-treater came up to my porch.

In one instance, a group of three or four older boys, probably high-school-aged, walked up to our door. It was later in the evening, so Chad and the boys had returned from their adventure around the neighborhood, and Alec and Chase were helping me hand out the candy. The trick-or-treaters rang the bell and said "trick-or-treat," and I held out the bucket telling them they could pick something out, just like I had been doing all evening. Each boy politely took one thing and thanked me. But before they turned around to leave, Alec decided he wanted to help by giving the boy in the front a piece of candy, a Twizzler. I just assumed that this boy would take the Twizzler without even thinking twice. But instead he caught me completely off guard. He smiled and said to Alec, "Thanks, but I already took a piece." Alec again tried to offer the Twizzler to the boy, and I even told him that it was ok to take the second piece (afterall, he had been very polite so far). But the boy insisted that he didn't need it and just said to Alec, "That's ok buddy...you can keep that one for yourself."  He thanked us again, said "Happy Halloween" and then went to catch up with his friends.

Now after almost two hours of watching countless trick-or-treaters of all ages help themselves to numerous pieces of candy without so much as a thank you, I was left just about speechless. I stood there wondering what this boy's parents had done to turn him into such a nice young gentleman. There are adults who don't act as politely as this boy had! What had his parents done that the parents of the "trick" kids hadn't done? And most importantly, what could I do to ensure that Alec and Chase grow up to be like this boy?

My best guess is that there isn't really an answer to this question. I'm sure there are plenty of wrong things to do, but I don't think there is one specific thing that will guarantee that Alec and Chase turn into "treat" children. I like to think that I am raising them to be good kids, but I can't help worrying when Alec runs over to Chase, pushes him over and grabs a toy out of his hands, or when Chase clobbers Alec on the head with a toy hammer. Despite timeouts, my numerous pleas to "be nice to your brother" or "take turns," and removing the problem toy from the picture, nothing seems to get  through to them. I realize that they are just kids and that this behavior is somewhat normal for their ages. But then I'll see other siblings playing so well together or an older sibling helping a younger one instead of fighting with them, and I go back to the question of what these parents are doing that I'm not.

I have tried to explain to Alec that we use our words to express something, not our hands or feet (or teeth). This worked a little bit, but now I'll find Alec one inch away from Chase's face yelling at the top of his lungs, "CAN I PLEASE HAVE THAT TOY? CHASE!!! CHASE!!! I WANT THAT TOY!! PLEASE CAN I HAVE THAT TOY?!?!" He thinks that just because he uses the word "please" that Chase should give him the toy. When Chase doesn't give Alec the toy (which is almost always the case unless I intervene), Alec looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel restraining himself from grabbing it. And if Chase tries to run away, Alec will follow right behind him and "accidentally" bump into him and knock him down. So I'm pretty sure I haven't succeeded in creating a "treat" kid out of Alec yet.

As for Chase, he's just doing what Alec has taught him to do. Alec would take a stuffed animal or soft toy and make it jump on Chase's head, but he knew it wasn't really hurting Chase (at least I think he knew...). The thing is, Chase doesn't understand the difference between making a stuffed bunny "hop" onto someone's head and pounding a hammer into someone's head. And because of this I'm pretty sure Alec has lost a few brain cells in the past few months. So the best thing I can do for Chase now is to teach Alec to be nice, which hopefully will set an example for Chase until he is old enough to understand right from wrong. But if I haven't succeeded in making Alec a "treat" kid yet, I obviously haven't succeeded in making Chase a "treat" kid.

I also am constantly reminded that if I want my kids to be nice kids, I need to be nice too. I'm sure when Chase hears me yelling at Alec for not listening, he doesn't understand why I'm yelling. He therefore thinks that yelling is just a normal part of life. Sadly it is a pretty normal part of my life, but maybe I need to be focusing more on how I act instead of how the kids are acting.

Every once in a while I will catch a glimpse of my boys being "treat" kids. But for the most part they still have a good bit of learning to do. Actually, I guess we all have some learning to do, whether it's learning to be patient, learning to take turns, or learning to handle situations without yelling all the time. For now I will just hope that my kids are just, as they say, "boys being boys." But one day I hope these boys will be nice gentlemen who will make other moms speechless over their polite actions. I know that's a lot to hope for, but it really would be a great treat.

They're still young... but will they be my little tricks or my little treats?