Saturday, May 28, 2011

Why I Shouldn't Have an iPhone...or drink

Now that I am on Twitter, if I had an iPhone, I could tweet about anything that came to my mind.  Immediately.  I thought that would be fun.  Then, I read this stream of texts I sent out last Saturday night.

[ME to my sister]  Hubband and I are at Chili's recreating our first date, except we have Cate with us.

[SISTER]  Oooooo.  But he knows how that turns out, right?  Silly man.

[ME]  Except this time I am having a margarita, so he might get llucky.

[SISTER]  Thanks for sharing.  Is "lucky" with two Ls pronounced "YUCKY"?

[ME]   LOL Though that's not saying muuch since I'm durnk.  (*editor's note:  I'd had about two sips at this point, though I did feel intoxicated.*)

[ME]  And, Cate is flirting with the cute, but obviously gay, waiter.  DOG I need and iPhone so that I could tweet from here.

[ME]  Just called Hubband a "jungle lover."  Prolly good think I can't tweet from here.  Did I say tweet in my last text, cuz I meant tweet.

[ME]  Hubband's taken Catie to the bathroom with him because he does not trust me alone with her.

[ME]  Can you believe that?  Just as well.  That brat was cramping my style with the cute, gay waiter.

[ME]  You don't seem to be responding.  Is now a bad time?

[ME]  Hello.  Are you there?  HELLO!  I'm yelling in Chili's.

[ME]  Okay, he is taking me to Borders (*book store*), but he is parking at OSH (*hardware store*).  What can this mean?

I'm sure glad I didn't have an iPhone that night, or I would have tweeted all of this stuff, and made it public.  For the whole world to see.  How embarrassing.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Family Hug

When you have three kids, it is very rare that any one of them gets to spend time alone with both parents.  So we work at it.  Nothing big, mind you.  We can't afford to get a sitter for two, so that both Mommy and Daddy can take one out for ice cream.  Besides, we are a family.  Like it or not, siblings are part of the deal.  But, most days, each kids gets what we call a  "family hug."  Which, ironically, does not include the whole family.

The other day, Cate walked up to Hubband and me, raised one arm to each of us, and said, "Hugs, mommy, daddy, hugs."  Family hug!  Hubband scooped her up, and we all hugged, and kissed on her, and told her we loved her.  "I yuv you, too, Mommy.  I yuv you, too, Daddy."

"Who do you love more, Cate.  Mommy, or Daddy?"

It was a joke, inappropriate for a two year old, I know.  It was more for her father that her, but she did not miss a beat.  She sat up a little straighter on her Daddy's arm, and smiled.  Big.  She looked at me, at Hubband, and back at me.  Grinning the whole time.  She knew it was a trick questions!  Finally she said, "I yuv my boys [her brothers]."  She thought that was hysterical.

I guess the joke was on me.  Bad mother!  Bad.  Bad.  Bad.

For the last five days, her boys have been out of town, and Cate has been home alone with us.  At first, she was a little off balance.  "Where my boys go?  I miss my boys.  When my boys come home?"  But by the second day, she only missed her brothers when we asked her if she did.  The rest of the time, she was basking in all the attention.  

They'll be home this afternoon.  She may close the door on them.  Or, she may welcome them with a giddy squeal, and a great big family hug.  I'm betting on the latter.

[The picture above is Cate, with her Nana, 
and another of her "boys", her cousin Lucas.]

Monday, May 23, 2011

Pajama Drama

Everyday life has its everyday dramas.  This one is about pajamas.

When my first son, Jonah, was born, he wore those cute footy pajamas.  As he got older, his pajamas came in sets.  I was very good at keeping these all together.  Folded, neat and tidy.  And, my son was always in matching pajamas.

When my second son, Samuel, was born, I realized this was insane.  To simplify things, I kept two drawers (cloth bins really, as a cubicle unit with bins is what we use for a dresser).  One for Jonah's pajamas.  One for Sam's.  No folding.  Just stuffing.  At bed time, I pulled a set of pajamas out of each drawer, and voila!  Two boys, dressed for bed.

By the time my third child, Catherine, was born, her brothers had grown to wear the same sized pajamas.  There was no longer a need to separate them by boy.  So, I took my two pajama bins, filled one with all the tops, and one with all the bottoms.  No folding.  Just stuffing.  At bed time, I pulled two pieces from each drawer, and voila!  Two boys, dressed for bed.

Yes.  I know.  I'm brilliant.

Where I failed, and where my brilliance was immediately extinguished, was with the boys themselves.  Early on, I was dressing malleable (though squirming) little people with no interest in the matter.   As my boys grew, they developed personalities.  And, opinions.

"They don't match," Jonah said, and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Suck it up, little man," was my loving reply.

To his credit, he did attempt, thereafter, to dig out his own matching pajamas.  But, as no one else bothered, it got to be impossible.  I felt for the kid.  He just liked it better when he matched.  And, truth be told, I like it better, too.  Not enough to actually fold pajamas, but I was open to suggestions.

A friend of mine gave me her secret.  She matches up the tops and bottoms and rolls them together.  I thought, What a great idea?  So I tried it.  It turns out "rolling" pajamas, is just another way of folding pajamas, into the shape of a roll.  I gave up after three pair.

Then...What is that glow?  It is getting brighter, and brighter.  Yes!  I got my brilliance back!

Clothes pins!  I sorted the pajamas into matching sets and clothes pinned them together.  A little more trouble than just stuffing them in the drawer, but not much.  Yay, yay, yay!!!!   At bed time, the boys themselves pulled out a matching set of pajamas, and voila!  Two boys, dressed for bed.

All was right with the world.

That was until several moths later when my middle child decided to assert his independence by having a different opinion.

"Nooooo!" squealed Sam.  "No matching!"

I was speechless.  I looked him straight in the eye.  I gave him my cross face.  And, I just blinked at him.  Speechless.

Fine. Fine, fine, fine!  FINE!

Two drawers.  One for tops.  One for bottoms.  I will make sure they are clean.  Beyond that, you are on your own little people.  First come, first (self) served.  Any whining, you will sleep naked.  I have spoken!

[As I write this, my two boys are on a trip with their Nana and Grandpa.  In their suitcase, are two Ziploc bags, one containing three sets of matching pajamas, and one containing three random bottoms and three random tops, labeled accordingly.  That's motherly love, right there.]

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Aw, Shucks

[slinks in, unnoticed]

Well, hello there?  Remember me?  School is over, and I am back!

[waves arms in air]
[shakes everything about a bit]

Woot, woot!

[lowers arms]
[adjust everything back into its proper place]
[looks around, a bit embarrassed]

Well, yes.  So, I am back.  And, I must say, I have been welcomed back in style.  Today in my mail box, I found this.

[trumpet fan fair]

My very first (and quite probably and quite rightly my very last) fan letter.

[trumpet fan fair]

That's right (giddy squeak).  Mail.  I love mail.  From a fan.  I love fans.  I have fans! 

[steps away to answer knock at door from disgruntled neighbor asking to silence the trumpets as her cockatoo is sleeping]
[apologizes, blushes again, sends regards to cockatoo]

This wasn't just a "keep up the good work, we love you" fan letter either.  It had a gift card in it.  A Starbucks gift card.

[holds card, Vanna White style, caresses the air around it]

Isn't that the sweetest thing ever? 

This fan was anonymous, but not in a peering through my front hedge sort of way. They wrote, "It's given anonymously so you'll realize what a big fan base you have!"

[sniffles a little, wipes eyes]

[regains senses]

Yes, I know this is ridiculous.  An anonymous card could mean that I have exactly one fan and she's my mother.  A card signed by Michelle Obama or the newly princessed Kate Middleton would mean I have a big fan base.

[thinks a bit more on this]

Then again, Mrs. Obama and the Princess do not have my home address, so even if they were fans of mine, which, let's face it, they very well could be, they have no way of actually getting the card in my caffeinated hands.

[realizes mid-level greatness]
[sits up a little straighter at keyboard]

Michelle, Kate, don't worry.  Just e-mail me.  And, if you are ever in town, the coffee is on me.

[notes foul odor wafting from kitchen]
[reminded must do dishes]
[swells with thankfulness for what she has]

To YOU, who sent my very first fan letter, thank you.  It meant even more than the Starbucks card.  (But you can't have it back or anything.)

I've missed everybody, and I will be back soon.  Promise.

[secretly worries that such a promise won't be kept due to tragic death in fiery crash]
[makes note to e-mail blogger password to friend so fans can be notified, mourn, get closure]
[relieved to remember that local Starbucks has double doors, plenty of room for swelling head]

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

The Down Side

One of the down sides of homeschooling?  No one helped my children make cute Mother's Day gifts out of their hand prints.  Well, not this year, anyway.

Another down side?  Very little time to go blog crawling, and leave comments for all of my favorite people.  And,  absolutely no time to write.  I did manage to post every day for two weeks, about two weeks ago.  I guess I wore myself out.  That, and school ends in exactly 7.25 school days.  I need to make sure that all my T-crossing, I-dotting ducks are in a row.  I wouldn't want to repeat Kindergarten on a technicality.

And, I went out of town the weekend before Mother's Day, and am only now catching up with the housework that was un-done while I was gone.

Oh, and did I mention that I am reading a book.  An adult book.  Ooh, wait.  That connotes something I don't mean.  A book for adults?  Well, I'm sure you get the idea.  A book with lots of words and no pictures -- NOT for kindergarteners.  I've sorta been using my spare time for that.  So, maybe it is not all because of school. 

But, whatever.  I'll be back when school gets out.  Or when I finish my book.  Or when I have something to say and the time to say it.  Whichever comes first.  Has anyone even missed me?

The nature of this post brought to you by my allergy medication.