"You're a mean mommy!"

Oh the joys of what our children tell us. Isn't it just so great to appreciated for all the things that we do for them? The food we put on the table? The hard work we do all day so that we'll have money to buy them that new toy they just have to have that they will be bored of in 10 minutes? The clothes they are wearing? Do they even understand the lengths we go through to try to make them a well-rounded person? The answer to that is not just no, but hell no. These little jerks are already thinking about the next thing that they have to have. Or how I didn't give them what they really wanted. Jerks.

Today started out as any normal morning would. I hear my alarm clock and of course reset it for 15 minutes later. Then I finally drag my ass out of bed and get Cole up. I pick out clothes and pray that he hasn't grown another 3 inches in the middle of the night and that his pants will actually still fit him. (That reminds, I forgot to actually look at his pants when he came downstairs, I hope that he's not going to look like Noah today.) Of course, once Livi hears us, then she needs to get up too. I bring her downstairs while Cole gets dressed in hopefully some well fitting pants. (Sidenote: The thing that makes me so mad, is that I just bought those pants like 3 months ago, and they were big when I bought them. I have freakishly large children.) I get them both a bowl of cereal and get started making his lunch for school. This isn't just any bowl of cereal, no. This is Cinnamon Toast Crunch, well the generic version anyway. This is plain ole Cheerios. I'm not asking them to eat something healthy like Grape Nuts. Come on!

Cole comes downstairs and is devastated, and I mean devastated that I could even THINK to ask him to eat this food, even though it's what he ate yesterday like it was his favorite. He had gotten it in his head that I would make waffles. I never said that I would do that. We don't even have waffles right now. After seeing him so upset and heartbroken over the cereal that I put in front of him, I did what any normal mother would do. I made him eat it. I made him eat the whole bowl. I'm heartless aren't I?

Then I proceeded to make his lunch for school. Realizing that, yes I forgot to get bread again last night while I was out, I had to figure out how I was going to make him something for lunch. I had all the sides, the yogurt, the baked cheetos, the kool-aid little drink bottle. But crap, what am I suppose to do for the sandwich part? Well, Cole is now going to be that kid that has a peanut butter and jelly on a hot dog bun. Sorry kid. Mommy needs to go to the store. Maybe I'll get some waffles while I'm there.

Sorry for the break....

After completing about two months of homework, seeing as finals are next week and today was the final day I could turn in my homework (I like to procrastinate....which is funny, that was the topic of one of the papers), I realized that I hadn't posted a blog post in quite sometime. I know for all of my followers,( they're are 8 of you now! OH yeah!!! Go me! Okay, so I think one of you is on there twice, but I don't care. Let me have my glory.) you've been missing out my daily dose of sarcasm and wit.

I feel like I owe you an explanation for my absence. Well, we already figured out it's not because I was doing homework. My grandfather recently passed away, and I haven't been able to bring myself to write. I just felt like that would be all I would write about. That's not really about parenting or my kids or anything like that. But it was how I was feeling, so I guess that's part of the reason I didn't write. The other part is that I'm kinda lazy. And I work a lot. So when I come home, it was just too much to think about writing and what I would write about. There was homework not to do and laundry to actually do and kids to play with.  I got a bit overwhelmed. Which is in part, why I created this blog in the first place. To have an outlet for when I was feeling overwhelmed, and to show other moms that it happens to all of us.

So yeah, I am in school now full time and I'm about to change my major to business. Which means, a lot more work. Well, the program is the same length as the other one I was in, so I don't really know if it's going to be more work. Just different I guess. I didn't think that it would be that big of a deal to work full time and go to school full time and be with the kids. But it is. It's a lot harder of everyone involved. In a way, it makes me want to just post-pone it until everything dies down, but who knows when that would be?? Probably never. Maybe when the kids graduate from high school. Do I really want to wait that long?? Livi isn't even preschool yet!!! So no, that's not really an option. It's just a lot of hard work, and I guess I wasn't really prepared for the road it was going to take me down.

All in all, the kids are doing good. Cole learned how to tie his own shoes. Which is crazy to me. When I do his homework with him, he know how to write so much now. It blows my mind everyday the things that he is learning how to do at school. I knew that someday, he would learn how to do all of these things. But it's so different when they actually do it.

I know that there are a lot of people out there who have lost people close to them. The grieving process is different for everyone. Losing my Grampy isn't something that I've really come to terms with yet. I don't really know how to process it. I had already lost my Mimi, but Grampy was still there. I could still go to that house and see him. You could always count on Christmas Eve being held there, the Fourth of July cookout in the backyard. And even though he hadn't done the blue Christmas lights in a long time, it was still something I'll always remember. Now these things, even though most of them are things that I haven't been able to go to in quite sometime, aren't going to happen anymore. Maybe someone else in the family will pick up the traditions. Maybe they'll just fade away. I don't know what the future holds. I just know that it's very bittersweet. As are so many other things. Sorry for the Debby-downer mood of this. It's just how it feels right now.

Kids say the darnest things.....

So today, as many other days, Livi said something to me that just cracked me up, which of course got me to thinking about all the crazy things my kids say to me on a daily basis. I sometimes post them on facebook, but there are some that just don't make it on there. Mainly because I don't want to be "that" guy clogging up everyone's feed with every little thing that my kids say that I deem adorable, because, let's face it, everything they say is adorable. I figure that I'll share some of it with you guys here.
Today, Olivia told me, in all seriousness, (and in fact, with quite the dirty look and attitude) 'Mommy, I farted. I farted mommy.' And when I asked her, 'what do you say?' she replied, 'not excuse me'. She then proceeded to give me a look that said, 'I dare you to ask me to say excuse me.' This is not the first time my three year old lady has talked about farting. While we were returning from New Hampshire via airplane, in the middle of our descent she announces to the entire plan, 'ewwww! Something smells yuck! You farted mommy! That's gross, say excuse me!' To which of course I replied, 'no I didn't! Be quiet!' (Really though, I didn't. But even if I had, I still would have said that I didn't. It's none of their damn business.) Then she laughed and said 'I know. I farted. I farted mommy. hehehe.' I mean really? Did she need to announce it to the plane? I don't think they smelt it.
Not to leave Cole out, because Lord knows he says some crazy things. First off, he always calls the Florida Gators the Crocs. Okay, not knee slapping material, but we're watching college football, so it was on my mind. One time, about a year ago, he spent about two hours telling me about his three girlfriends (he was 4 at the time), one white, one brown and one yellow. This kid is quite the lady's man. He hits on every waitress we've ever had, and his favorite thing to call them is cupcake. He's just so darn cute. Today, we're having a get together to watch the Alabama vs LSU game and one of Brock's friends is a LSU fan. And when Cole had asked him what team he liked, to which he replied 'LSU', Cole said 'oh' with such disappointment, we all busted out laughing. Cole of course, didn't understand what was so funny.
One day, Cole said to me, with as much seriousness as a 5 year old can muster, 'Mom, I have to tell you something that I should have told you a long time ago. I am a power ninja. I have lost my powers and I have to get new ones.' What can you say to that? I had to reply in a way that didn't bust out laughing in his precious little face, so I said the only thing I could. 'Oh. Okay.'
I love my kids. They crack me up, and they keep me on my toes. They make me laugh even when they aren't meaning too. Perhaps even harder when they don't mean too. Like when I'm scolding Livi and she starts crying and telling me I broke her heart. It's so funny, cause she says it with such feeling. Then, it kinda makes me sad, but still, that crap is funny. What kind of crazy shit do your kids say?

Discipline, who does it really hurt more?

Wow, it's been a minute since I've posted anything on here. Life has been super crazy. I have gone back to school full time, I still work full time and of course the kids, the boyfriend and house and all that banana goodness that comes along with life! Needless to say, I'm tired. Running on fumes I'd even go so far as to say. But this isn't about how tired I am. This is about discipline. There are so many different views now a days regarding discipline. Do you stand on the spanking side of the fence or the side of the fence that has a kinder, gentler way? Personally, I stand on the spanking side. Maybe you agree. Maybe you don't. Either way, that doesn't change my stance.  I was spanked as a child. I can tell you that I learned lessons. I learned respect and that my parents meant business. Maybe you can teach those things without a good butt whooping, but let me tell you, that butt whooping works.

Now, I don't want you to think that I beat my kids black and blue. That's just too far. I don't hit them with a closed fist either. I spank them on their bottoms. Open handed. Or once (and it only took one time) with a wooden spoon. Now all it takes is the threat of getting the spoon to get my point across. Does this make me a bad parent because I use physical discipline? Have times really changed that much from when we were growing up that spanking our children is no longer acceptable? If the warnings and the time outs have not gotten the point across, I think that a spanking is perfectly fitting. Children need boundries. They need to know that we are the parents. We are not their best friends. Like my own friend told her kids (and now I tell mine) when they said "I hate you", she would say "Good, I'm doing my job". Our kids aren't suppose to like us. They are suppose to respect us. It's our jobs to teach them the correct way to behave in the world. We are shaping the future adults of our world. Or even better, the future teenagers. Do you like the way these teenagers walk around? Maybe if they got a wooden spoon across their ass every now and then, things would be different. Who knows?

I love my children. I love them enough to not let them act like crazy people in public and think that they will get away with it. You want to throw a fit in the middle of a restaurant? Let's go to the car and straighten out your thought process. I do not want my kids to be that guy who grows up and has no idea how he is suppose to behave in public and expects everyone to do everything for them. Ungrateful for the life they have and the things that have been provided to them. But still, it's hard to follow through. When I have to be the tough guy and spank them, put them in time out or ground them from tv or whatever they seem to be into at the time, it's hard. Livi told me today "you broke my heart, now I have no heart". This was after a serious spanking after drinking some "lost my mind juice" and not listening or behaving all afternoon. (Where she got that juice, I'd like to know so I can discipline whoever gave it to her!) I know she was tired. But is that really an excuse? Do you really let your kid go batshit crazy just because they are tired? 'Oh it's cool baby, just throw your fries all over the place cause you wanted a burger instead of chicken nuggets. I know you tired, that's ok.' What are we teaching our children if we allow that behavior? That as long as you have an excuse you can do whatever you want? I don't think so. Not in my house. And you can say "I don't love you, I hate you, You don't love me" all day long. It doesn't matter. I love you and that's why I discipline you.  But when their behinds stop hurting in about 10 minutes, my heart will still hurt from my little baby saying those things. I guess that's why we say, "this will hurt me more then it will hurt you."

What my kids don't know about me yet, but may one day figure out!

While perusing the expansive internet and reading other articles that moms have written, I came across an article called "10 Things My Kids Would Be Surprised To Learn about Their Mom" (here's the link to that 10 things). This made me think about all the things the kids don't know about me yet. Let's see what I can come up with!
1. I once got really drunk in Russia and rode a horse down the beach.
2. I'm not physic. I just know them, and what kind of trouble they are capable of. I also have gotten pretty good at figuring out the different thud sounds that come from upstairs.
3. I am not a morning person. I hate getting up that early in the morning and I wish that they didn't get up that early.
4. I think Star Wars is boring, sorry Cole. I can't watch it. I don't really want to hear about, but I pretend to love it because you think it's so cool.
5. I know that you guys think laundry is really fascinating. I feel like I don't even need to finish this thought, because you know where I'm going with it.
6. I love love love all the trashy reality tv that I would never ever let you watch.
7. Pizza every night is not a good dinner plan. Although right now, I'm starving and that sounds great.
8. Dessert is my favorite meal. Yes, I called it a meal. If it's the right kind of dessert, it could be a meal.
9. I love musicals. Movies, plays and all that. I love to sing along with them. And I don't really care if it's embarrassing. In fact, as they get older, it might add to the entertainment factor.
10. As much I tell them to put on their shoes, I hate wearing them. I never wore shoes growing up. I even graduated high school barefoot.

There are many more things about me that they don't know. More things then I could think about. Feel free to share some of your own little tidbits.

Mommy Guilt Explored

Every mother experiences mommy guilt at one point or another. Whether a mom decides to stay home or go back to work, the guilt is there. Seeing as I have done both, I feel like I can speak of both, from my point of view of course. First I'll talk about staying home. I stayed home for a year with both of my children, which I'm grateful for, I know that sometimes it feels like I don't appreciate the time that I got to spend with them, but that guilt is to be saved for later in the conversation. While I stayed home with Cole and Olivia, while I did love being able to spend time with them while they grew up and had all their firsts, I found that I really missed my job. I missed working and contributing financially and just having that fulfillment that comes with working. And I'm sure that some of you will think that I should have gotten that fulfillment from my children, and I do! I loved watching them grow and  experiencing all the first's. It's kind of a vicious cycle of guilt. First it starts out with something innocent like 'man, I miss adult conversations.' Then it graduates to, 'When I was working I used to have so much fun there' (even if you hated your job at the time). Then you catch yourself wishing you could go back to work and start to feel terrible about it. How could you possibly want to leave your precious little baby? Maybe because you're tired of getting puked, peed, pooped on all day. Sick to death of Dora the explorer (where are her parents by the way? And why is she allowed to wander around the jungle all day? And don't even get me started on Diego who teaches little kids to hug jaguars!). You've lost yourself in the everyday shuffle of momhood. The daily routine of diapers, feedings, nap, picking up toys, lunch, picking up toys, naps, dinner, picking up toys and so on and so forth. You, if you're anything like I was, start to feel like 'why should I pick up the toys for the 15th time? You're just going to make a mess in 36 seconds anyway!' Until of course you trip and about break your neck on one of those stupid toys and then you're cursing yourself for not picking it up.
Staying at home and wishing you were somewhere, anywhere else is enough to make any mom feel guilty. It's just that sometimes you need to get away. Sometimes, you need a break. We push ourselves so hard all the time, and sometimes, you just need to sit your fat ass on the couch and watch lame reality tv and let the laundry sit there for 15 minutes. It's not going anywhere, it's not hurting anyone or anything, but I might if I don't get to take a breather for a second! Then of course, my mind starts to beat me up. Why am I not playing with the kids all day? Why am I not a better housewife? (Well, technically now it would be house-girlfriend.) If I don't stop that thought process in it's tracks, then I'll be a hot mess in about 4 minutes. I could only take being at home for so long before I had to go back to work. I just had to. Think what you want about me, I'm woman enough to admit I'm no Betty Crocker.
So that brings me to the guilt that comes with going back to work. I decided to go back to work after Cole had his first birthday. Olivia was about a year and half when I went back to work. It would have been sooner had I not lived in the middle of nowhere previously. After the divorce, I didn't have a choice but to go back to work. But that's a whole separate blog post! Anyway, with each of them the guilt was the same. Even though with Olivia, I knew that I would eventually need to go back to work, it was still hard. I feel terrible that someone else is teaching my children to do things. I feel terrible that sometimes, I'm not there to put them to bed. I'm lucky enough now to have a job where I can be there in the mornings to get them ready for school, but sometimes I have to stay late, so I'm not always there for bedtime. I know deep down, that this is what I have to do to help support them and give them the life that I want them to have. It doesn't stop me from feeling guilty that I'm not with them all the time. It's not really possible though. At some point, I have to let go and let them go to school and learn and be independent and blah blah blah. That day is not today though. Today, they are still my little babies and I just want to be there for everything. I want to be the one to calm them down when their having a fit, the one to discipline them, the one to tuck them in every night after they do their homework. The reality is that you can't always be there. I can't always be there to do all of those things. And if I stayed home, I wouldn't be able to afford a house to put them to bed in. I wouldn't really be happy anyway. I understand that I need more from myself. Plus I hate to cook....and clean.....and everything else that comes with a stay at home mom. I'm working on the guilt factor, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't ever go away. It's just going to be different things to feel guilty about. Like, man, I feel terrible I just embarrassed them in front of all their friends like that.  Or I can't believe I told Cole's first girlfriend about the time he peed off the front porch in front of the whole neighborhood. I just feel awful. At least there is hope that someday, I get to enjoy that guilt. Even if it's just a little.

Pardon the interruption.

I know I've been neglating the blog lately, and I'd like to apologize. It was the first week of school and before that I just come back to work since the whole hurricane incident. I worked about 47 hours in 5 days. I'm exhausted. Between working overtime, getting up early to make lunches, get Cole ready and drive to school and all the other fun stuff that comes with going back to school. Now it's that time of year that when I was in school, didn't matter. It was just another day. But now, it's our generation's JFK. Where were you on Sept 11th? For me, I was active duty Navy and was stationed in Japan. It was about 230 in the morning and I got a call from the man I was dating at the time. I was 19 years old. When he called me, all he said was 'Let me talk to Brent.' I was tired, young and selfish and I didn't want to get up and get dressed and give him the phone! I kept pushing it until he finally told me why I needed to get up. At this point, the second tower hadn't gotten hit yet, and no one really knew what all was going on. 'Someone blew up the Twin Towers in NYC.' I thought he was just making it all up just to get me out of bed.
Reality came the next morning when we got off the train and started to walk to the base. The base was in lock down. There was a huge line outside of the gate and every person was being searched. Every bag checked. I just remember being confused and not really grasping what all was going on. As we walked to the ship, the base was a swirl of confusion. No one knew what was going on. Rumors flew, and as crazy as they all sounded, most of them were true.
Walking up to the ship was just unreal. Every other ship was getting ready to get underway and leave port, but our lovely ship (which to this day I swear is held together by duck tape and paint) had a huge hole in the side due to renovating and we were unable to get underway. Walking into my workspace, which is like the brain center with 4 huge projector screens to have total awareness, was unreal. There, projected on a screen that was about 4 feet tall, was the scene from New York. All I could do was sit down and watch. What else could I do? There is nothing anyone could do. Then they showed the Pentagon and the field in Pennsylvania. It just crazier and crazier. As the morning went on, more and more people gathered in our space watching the events over and over again. It all just became too much. Everywhere you look, there is someone on the phone, convincing their family that they are fine. Checking on their families and making sure they are fine. Everyone just needed to touch base with their families. I remember the relief on my friend's face when she found out that her brother, who was suppose to start his first day at a new job at the towers, received a call to tell him to come into work late that day.
The next few days were madness. They didn't let anyone leave the ship unless they were authorized to live off base. Since I was just living with my boyfriend, they wouldn't let me go home. I had to have him bring me a toothbrush, and underwear and the whole works. People had to wear helmets and bulletproof vests to stand watch outside. It changed everything. Life has since returned somewhat to normal, but it's always in the back of everyone's mind. Well, everyone who's old enough to remember. We have this whole generation now that knows nothing other a world of terrorists and war. A world that has crazy security checks at the airport. They never knew what the world was like before all of this ever happened.
To this day, I can't watch anything having to do with 9-11. I just can't. If it comes on the tv, I have to change the channel. I can't seem to bring myself to watch the towers fall, see the people running through the smoke and debris. Hear the stories of great heroes and great loss. Tomorrow is 9-11 and all over the tv there are specials and news stories and movies all about that day, and I can't watch it. Does that make me a bad person? I hope not. Maybe someday I'll come to terms with it, and be able to watch this specials without having a damn near anxiety attack. Just thinking about it is making my heart race and breath quicken. I just hope that we never forget the change that that day had on all of us. I know I never will.

Phone conversations with kids....counter-productive at best.

I actually had a suggestion for today's post, so I know now that it's not just me that this happens to! More often then not, the kids are playing peacefully (well as peacefully as they can possible play together) and I decide that I'll take this opportunity to catch up with some friends or family, or possibly even handle some business over the the phone if I need to. It's usually around this time, and I have yet to find out how they could even know how I'm on the phone in the first place, that they need something, anything. They must hear me talking through the vents or something. Or maybe they have a scanner or something up there that lets them know....I mean, have you met their dad? It wouldn't surprise me at all.
So I've dialed the number and it starts to ring. It's usually around this time that all hell breaks loose. Cole won't share his cars. Livi doesn't want to watch whatever movie or show is on. Cole is thirsty. Livi punched Cole in the face. The excuse is always different, the result is always the same. Whoever I am calling gets to hear "knock it off, I'm on the phone...oh hello, sorry." It's not like I could just hang up when the ruckus started, then I would just be prank calling people all day long.
The worst is when I have to make a phone call in the car. Save me the lecture on how I shouldn't talk and drive, we all do it. I use speaker phone usually, usually when I don't have the kids in the car. This is almost worse then trying to talk to someone on the phone at home. They can actually see me on the phone now. All I can hear when I'm on the phone is, "Who are you talking to? Can I say hi? I wanna talk. Why can't I talk? You're not nice. You're hurting my feelings. That's not a good idea. Who are you talking to again?" For this reason, I rarely make phone calls in the car with the kids. If I do have to call you, just be prepare to speak to the kids. I'm just going to apologize now to my family, friends, customer service agents, work or whoever else I have to talk to on the phone that have to say hello to my crazy children in order to continue the conversation. I truly do hate yelling at my kids while I'm on the phone. I know the people I'm talking to don't want to hear it, even if they have kids and totally understand. I get flustered and frustrated trying to have a conversation, whether it's for business or for my own sanity, and deal with whatever trouble the kids are cooking up at the time.
I know the kids just want some attention, but it's funny to me how they don't need anything from me until I start to do something else. Can't I just have a minute or two to have some adult conversation? I can't talk about Star Wars the Clone Wars or princesses or anything else they they decide to ask me about. That makes mommy into a crazy person. Sometimes, I need to talk about shoes, or gossip ,or whatever else comes to mind! I think I just need to invest in a soundproof booth. Maybe then I'll be able to accomplish a conversation without having to put someone in time out.

Potty Training, Not for the faint of heart

I was going to write about the incredibly deep conversation I had with my two year old this morning, but she woke me up entirely too early to actually remember what we talked about. It was something to do with the sun, the moon and some other crap that my brain refused to retain out of protest. Just because the sun came up doesn't mean that we should wake up too. Just saying. So instead I'm going to write about my frustration level with her peeing in her pants.
I should be grateful that she's even as far along with her potty training as she is, seeing as she's not even three yet. She wears panties all day long. She does wear a pull up at night time, but it's usually dry when she wakes up. For the most part, at home, she has very few accidents. However, there have been some accidents that have been at some awfully inconvenient places and times. There was this one time, a few weeks ago, when we took the kids to Chuck-E-Cheese and she was in the climbing play thing, in the tunnel that went above where people walk. I think you can see where I'm taking this. Needless to say, there were a few people who got an involuntary golden shower.  Now, maybe we should have gone home when that had happened. But we had a lot of tokens left and we were there just as much for ourselves and the kids. Hey, it was our birthday the next day!! So I did what any mother who spent good money on tokens and didn't want to leave until they were all gone would do, walked down to Burlington Coat Factory and bought her some new shorts (clearance rack of course). The shorts ended up being a little big on her though, and we all got to see her plumber's crack the rest of the night. (Just like her daddy.)
Like I had said though, she rarely had accidents like that. Ever since the whole hurricane thing, and being up at a friends house, she's simply too busy to actually use the potty. She only wants to wear pull ups during the day now, because she knows that she's going to have accidents. Of course I refuse to let her do that, in fear that she'll regress so much that we'll have to start all over with the potty training. On our first full day back in Harrisonburg, we went to my old work and the kids were playing in the play place. They had been in there all of 10 minutes when Cole comes to tell me that she peed in there. I, of course because the universe seems to think it's funny to laugh at me, was wearing a dress and had to climb up into the play place to clean it up. I wasn't going let someone else do it. Since we were in town, I just went to get her some new panties (she was in a dress, don't worry).
After going to the store, we went to visit another friend in good ole West Verginie, where she peed her pants again. I know her routine is off, but I mean, come on child!! You know where the potty is. You know how to use it. I never have to get after her anymore at home, she just goes. Now, I feel like I have to make her go pee every 30 minutes like back when we started. I'm trying to have more patience with it, but I kinda enjoyed having her go potty when she needed to. It's nice to not have her in diapers, or pull ups and not even need help going potty (except after number 2, she needs a little help with that one). I guess I'm just going to have to suck it up, and do a little more laundry until things get settled again. We'll see!!

Meditation with a five year old

The last couple of days, there has been so much excitement that the kids sleep schedules have been all kinds of jacked up. Yesterday, we drove out to good ole West-by-God-Virginia and visited some friends. I figured this trip would wear them out and they would go to bed a normal time and get some much needed rest, for them and for me. You'd figure I'd have learned by now that things don't work like that. My friend's kids were getting into bed because they both of school today (we still have no power at all) so I figured that my kids would get the point that it's bed time. I laid them down, first together in the big bed. After about 5 minutes of being quiet, they start to get progressively louder and louder. Alright, that's not going to work. I walk in to separate them to find that Livi was holding a pillow over Cole's face. Nice. Livi was put on the mat on the floor.
10 more minutes go by. Livi was still screaming about being put on the floor, and Cole was getting annoyed cause she was being so loud. They are tired to a point beyond reason. After threatening them with being grounded until the second coming of Jesus, they decided to quiet down. Good choice I'd say. Then I made a really silly mistake. I actually thought that I'd be able to have an adult conversation! How ridiculous of me! After about 30 minutes of going back and forth, I realized that I was going to have to actually calm them down in order for them to be able to relax enough to go to sleep. They were simple too far gone into it to just go to sleep like that.
So I lay down with them and start to rub Cole's back. I figured that we could do some visualization and that might take his mind off of being all riled up and work his imagination a little so he could unwind. I asked what he wanted to think about and the response I got was typical of Cole. Battling. Fighting. The conversation went like this:
Me: Uh no. Let's think about a big field, with tall grass that you can run in. 
Cole: That I can fight in.
Me: The wind is blowing, and the sun is warm on your face while you play.
Cole: While I battle the bad guys

Okay, so the field scene didn't work. On to the next one.
Me: Okay, so let's think about......the ocean! Yes, the ocean.
Cole: With sharks.
Me: NO, no sharks. Sharks are stressful, no sharks.
Cole: Yes sharks. They live in the ocean.

Forget it. What I really needed was that great bedtime story, "Go the Fuck to Sleep". Follow the link below to hear Samual L. Jackson read it. It's just amazing.
Go the Fuck to Sleep

Co-sleeping, why it's not for me.

The hurricane was rough for us. I know that we're not on the coast, but from what I'm hearing, we got hit harder then Norfolk here in Richmond! There are downed trees all over the city and we lost power Saturday night. It's Monday morning, we still have no power and word on the street is that we won't have it back for about a week. There is no way I'm staying in a house with two kids and no power. It's just got happening. So we loaded up the car last night and the kids and I headed up north to stay with a friend for a few days. We are so grateful!! She even gave up her room for us!
We got in late last night and the kids were all amped up to be at a friends house, but were totally exhausted from being up in the heat all day. Technology has spoiled us. Of course the kids didn't want to go to sleep because they were too excited. Finally, I get them to sleep, and even though there was a little futon on the floor, both of the kids insisted on sleeping with me in the bed. Alright, well it's not like I could let one sleep with me and not the other one too. So we all piled in the bed and got all relaxed to go to sleep. Now, maybe it's because we never sleep in the same bed. Maybe it's because they were distraught about the whole hurricane and the effect that it's had on everything. Either way, the kids felt the need to be crammed up my butt the whole night. Livi wanted to sleep with her face on mine, Cole wanted to sleep with his knees on my back. They tossed and turned so much it was just crazy. I'm getting more tired just thinking about how tired I am right now.
Do people really do this every night? I remember a time when Cole used to sleep in my bed. But it was just him and he was much much younger and smaller. Now he's a 5 1/2 year old who is the same size as some 2nd graders! People frequently think that Livi is at least 4. How can people sleep with giant children like that? Especially children that are not only freakishly huge, but move like they have restless leg syndrome. There were knees in my back, butts in my face, elbows being thrown and feet flying everywhere. It's a miracle that no one fell off the bed. I didn't get hardly any sleep at all. After all that tossing and turning, my kids still woke up at the butt crack of dawn! I mean really?? Why would they want to be up that early? Where did they get this morning people crap from? Wherever it was from, I'm not a fan.
Co-sleeping is not for me. While I love to cuddle with my kids during a movie, right before they go to sleep (in their own beds) or when they have a bad dream, they are just not friendly sleepers. There is no way I could possibly get any rest with the two of them in my bed. Man, I need a nap already. It's only 8:45! It's going to be a long day.

Nap Times....Not just for the kids

So let's talk about naps. I know I could use one right about now. I had to work at 8 this morning, after being at work until almost 11 last night. As I sit here, watching the hurricane hit the city, I think 'man, this is good napping weather.' My kids are the ages now where they really do still need naps, but think that they don't. They aren't tired. But, if for some reason they don't actually sleep, may Jesus have mercy on us. They are terrors. They just want to fight each other, and anything else that gets in their way. If they will submit and take a nap, then they are usually pretty agreeable.
I think we all know, realize and recognize the benefits for the kiddos to take a nap. But this blog isn't about that. It's about being real, and the real reason why we want our kids....no NEED our kids to take a nap some days. We need it. We need the peace. The quiet. The break from the insanity of the constant bickering. He's looking at me, she touched my toys, he's breathing my air. It goes on and on. They fight so much, I have called my parents to apologize for the way my brother and I were when we were growing up. They can't seem to play well together, but they won't leave each other alone either. I wish I could say it will get better when they get older, but why am I going to lie to myself? At least, par some disaster of Cole getting held back or Livi getting bumped ahead, they won't have to be in the same grade!
There are days when I practically beg them to take a nap. I've even tried to bribe them. If you take a nap, then you can watch a movie when you wake up. Or we'll go to the library. Or something that is equally awesome and something that I would actually do. I never make promise I can't keep, that's just asking for trouble. If they don't take the break that I know that they need, because they are only really terrible when they don't get enough sleep (or if they're hungry, those kids are like gremlins!) then I won't get a break all day. I will be on edge, and get super mad about every little thing. What fun is that for anyone? And once you've gone down that road, it's hard to get off that I'm-angry train.
Nap time or quiet time is crucial in maintaining the sanity of a mother. In fact, I think I might take a nap right now......

A piss-poor way to start the day. (Pun very very much intended)

Today has started as any other day would normal start. It's the ass-crack of dawn and the kids are up playing. As I get up to tell them to get their butts back into bed, Cole tells me that Livi is in the potty. This is actually great news. See, she's almost three and about 95% potty trained. I turned my attention to the bathroom, where she is sitting in the dark because she can't reach the light switch. As soon as she sees me, she announces with pride, 'I'm pooping!' Awesome. This is exactly how I had envisioned my day starting. I patiently waited for her to finish so that I could wipe her hiney. Oh a mother's dream. At least I don't have to buy diapers anymore.
After getting her all settled back into bed, I realized there is no way I'm going to be able to go back to bed. So I got my glasses and headed down stairs. I tried to get the dog to come down with me, but she's lazy too and just looked at me like I was crazy for wanting her to get up out of her comfy bed. Fine. I'll go by myself. As any mother would say, I'm sure, there is nothing like the peaceful time in the morning when for some crazy reason, you're the only one up and the house is still quiet. It lets me wake up in peace and helps me be a calmer person. Like right now, there are bangs and crashes coming from up stairs followed by some gun sounds. I'm calm as a bunny. See what an hour of mommy-time can do?
After being the domestic diva that I'm certianly not, and making the kids a nice hot breakfast of scrambled eggs and cheese with toast (hey, it's hot and the kids don't realize how easy it is to make okay? Don't judge me.) I call them down and go upstairs to finally shoo the dog down to go outside. In the time it took me to go upstairs and collect the dog, Cole finished eating and wanted a drink. Figuring that her bathroom needs were not dire, I went to grab the kids a glass of juice before I took her out. While I was pouring the second little glass, I hear Cole, 'Mom! Bama's peeing on the floor!!' Really dog? Really??? Your lazy ass didn't even want to get out of bed, and now you have to go to the bathroom so badly, that you couldn't hold it for 35 seconds? Seriously? Between the dog and the 2 year old, why is someone always peeing on the floor? I'm totally going to put a pull-up on this dog. It's going to happen.
All this and it's only now just after 10am. I still have to go to work today. At least the kids are being good!

Back to school shopping, this shit sucks

So my son is going to kindergarten. And of course, he has grown like a good 6 inches since last fall. His pants look like high water pants, which could be a good thing because of the whole hurricane thing, but for fashion's sake, not so much. He's already going to be the minority in his school as it is, so let's at least have some pants that fit right? Once I kissed Livi good bye, and convinced her that I would indeed come back, I loaded Cole up into the car. First stop was the 7-11 to hit up the ATM because my "awesome" bank has like zero ATM's and you can use the ones there with no charge. Hey, I'm cheap, so what? Those surcharges are outrageous! One can not go into 7-11 and not get a refreshing beverage, so of course I have to get Cole one. Drinks in hand, we were off to the mall.
Shopping with a man is bad enough. Shopping with a 5 year old, now that's something totally different. The first store was actually ok. He was into it, helping me pick out the clothes. Of course he was excited, they had Stars Wars shirts, his new obsession. (He gets that geek side from his father, we all know that.) Almost $100  later, we are on to the next store, with what's starting out to be a pretty bitchin' wardrobe. Okay, okay this wardrobe was heavily influenced by me. He's 5, he knows nothing of fashion and if I let him pick it out, everything would have something to do with Star Wars and I refuse to let him be "that" kid!!
On the way to the next store, I wanted to check out this neat little store that had an eclectic collection of clothes, jewelry and bags. I suppose my first mistake was thinking it wasn't all about him. What ever was I thinking? He was a little grumpy that there were no toys, no cool boy stuff for him. After about, lets say 30 seconds, he started to express his dislike for this store in a typical boy way. 'There's no cool stuff here, it's boring, waahh wahh'. But for the most part we made it through the whole experience unscathed. On to the next store. This store was not as exciting for Cole, but we were still shopping for him and they had a tv in the back so he was down! I was left to pick out the majority of the clothes in peace while he chilled and watched cartoons. Whatever, sometimes it's just easier that way.
Apparently, I didn't learn my lesson with that first store I wanted to look at, and I attempted to look at a shoe store. This is when all hell broke loose. He grabbed the wall and was like 'I'm not going in there! NOOOOO!!! Don't make me do it!' I mean, like I was walking him down death row. It's just a few pairs of heels. Mommy can't always wear flip-flops. So now it's a power struggle. If I cave and don't go into the store, then he's won. If I drag him in the store, then I run the risk of a) embarrassment and b) that he'll knock down a display of ridiculously expensive shoes that I'd only be able to afford if I didn't feed myself or my children for two weeks. Hey, some of those shoes are totally worth it. Just saying.
So what to do? Well, of course I dragged his little ass right into that store. Other people be damned. I am the parent. I made sure to keep his arms close to him while we were in there though. I didn't even look at those delicious shoes. I pulled him to the back of the store, ignoring those evil looks, and then calmly walked back out. Point proven. Now it was time to buy him some shoes, but payless always has great sales and that whole BOGO thing and I'm not about to pay 67 dollars for shoes that he's going to wear for maybe six months. That of course meant leaving the mall, which in his fantic "I'm looking at girly things and it's going to kill me" state, he thought that leaving meant he was going to be in trouble. The fit that ensued was just plain bananas. The yelling and pulling of my arm was just out of hand. I feel like I need to explain that Cole is about the same size (if not bigger) as a 2nd grader. People are looking at me with all kinds of evil and hateful looks. Like they have never seen a temper tantrum. I mean, come on. It happens. Why do people always react like that? Like it's not embarrassing enough to have a child have a break down, but now you've got judging eyes all over you. What am I suppose to do? Give in and give him everything his little heart desires? Excuse my language, but Fuck that, with a capital F. That is the reason so many teenagers today have the terrible attitudes they have. No respect for authority. I will do everything in my power to make sure that's not my kids.
The entire car ride home, because the good Lord knows I wasn't about to bring him into another store, I learned my lesson, was him screaming about how he didn't want to go home. Like I would really bring him anywhere while he was acting like that. I thought that maybe he would tire himself out in the 20 minute ride home, but oh no. I underestimated him. I think the volume actually increased. That shit was crazy. I couldn't get home fast enough.
After getting him home, and spanking his little behind, I of course came downstairs and felt like a total failure. Why? I mean, it was what needed to happen. That behavior is not ok, but I began to let on the guilt about how is it that my child couldn't even behave in the mall? What have I done wrong? What I really want to know is, why is that the first place my head went? That it's all my fault? He's going through a lot right now, and he doesn't know how to express his frustration, his anger and well, he just had a bad day. Couldn't that be it? Why does it have to be this big long reason that is ultimately my fault? I need to give myself a little slack.

So now it's your turn. Was there one time your child lost their minds in public that you totally blame yourself for?

Let's get this thing started.....

I started this whole process as a book. A book about my crazy life and my crazy kids and just my feelings on the whole matter. My honest, sarcastic, jaded and sometimes it's not pretty. Kids change everything. Your body, your sleep pattern, your sanity...Mostly your sanity. These changes can make you into a better person, they can make you into a crazy person, for me it's a mixture of both. I now have an excuse to be the silly, weird person I've been my entire life. Now it's okay because I'm just entertaining my kids.
My kids make me nuts. They make me angry, they make me laugh. There are days when I think there couldn't possibly be naughtier children in the world, and then I see Supernanny and I feel so much better because I'm not alone! I know, from talking to my friends, that they too feel the same way I do. Scatterbrained, frustrated, overwhelmed, happy, sad, at times like a failure, and a list of other emotions that goes on and on. It's about time that more people start talking about this extremely valid feelings so mothers can stop feeling like they are only ones who want to bring their kids into the wrestling ring and give them a good suplex. We are not bad mothers. We are real woman, who had real lives before our kids and are struggling with the compromise that comes with motherhood.
I'll share my story and I can only hope that it will make you laugh and say, that is so true! I encourage you to comment, to share with your friends, to agree, to disagree, to laugh silently (or out loud) or whatever it is that you feel you need to do. Later ladies!