Upside Down Mom is Wow

I have a pair of slippers and a robe that have "MOM" monogrammed on them. When I sit in my bathroom and dry my hair (on the rare occasion I'm actually able to take a shower and wash my hair) and look at those letters they say "WOW" (because I'm looking at them upside down, see). So this morning was one of those few and far between days. A lucky day. And I was thinking to myself....WOW is right. WOW~I'm actually going to be showered and dressed and ~dare I believe~ even have on makeup before 8 am. And to make things better, everyone was still asleep. Lucky lucky me. Wow.

So I came upstairs to get a cup of coffee where I was greeted by William, who was walking as if he'd just hopped off a large horse after a long ride, and told me that he tee-tee'd "just a little bit" in his top bunk but it was ok because "it will dry." I just love changing that top bunk. Wow, I couldn't wait.

Then we heard Catherine raffling around in her room and when I went in to get her discovered she had been lying in a small pond in her bed. Luvs....with leakguard...didn't guard so well last night. As I'm getting her changed and dried off, William was sitting in her floor dismantling a flashlight. "Mama," he said, "I'll be right back....I just need to go wash these batteries."

???????

All of a sudden I realized the batteries must have been corroded so, as he's dripping battery acid all the way to the bathroom, I chased him down to throw them away and get him to wash his hands. He wanted to know why. "Because they are corro...I mean....it's ac....I mean....BECAUSE I SAID SO." Wow.

Off and running back to Catherine's room to get some pants on her. But she beat me to it and decided to wear her Dora big girl panties. "You HAVE to use the potty if you wear these...do you understand?" Uh-huh, she said. Right. She's never used the potty...why in the world is she going to start today? But remembering I had thought it was a lucky day a little earlier, I thought there might be a chance.

No chance though. As I headed in to Stuart's room where...you guessed it....I had yet another diaper to change....Catherine came toddling in as if she'd just finished her ride on Trigger and announced "Dora wet. Wet wet wet."

ARGH!!! "Catherine," I said, "you were supposed to use the potty, remember?"

"Uh-huh. I tee tee ovuh deah."

"Where?"

"Deah, Mama. Wheah de clotes ah."

A giant puddle in the closet to clean. A pile of sheets to launder. And battery acid to mop up. All before my first cup of coffee.

WOW.

Half a Year

Hard to believe it's been six months since this little guy came along. Six months ago I couldn't imagine our life with him and now can't imagine what we ever did without him. He sure is loved. About 300 times a day.

Holding My Breath

I know it seems like every other post I am talking about poo or throw up. I don't mean to. But it's just that we seem inundated with it sometimes. Something told me last night to go to bed as soon as we got all the kids in bed. Had I followed my instincts and gone to sleep at 8:30 rather than 11, I might have slept more than 2 hours since Catherine woke us up throwing up at 1 am. Poor love. Was sick until nearly 3:30 when the tummy was finally empty and she could go back to sleep. Until 5:30 when Stuart woke us up. Not throwing up. Just up.

I'm bracing myself though because if the normal and usual course is followed here, Andy and I will be down for the count by the weekend. Trying to find the silver lining though....I do need a rapid weight loss regime. Of course now that I've said that it is sure to happen.

If you happen to need to drop a few pounds yourself, let me know and I'll send someone over right away to breathe on you. Always thinking of others....

Oscar Eats From a Trash Can Too

Catherine the Grouch woke up this morning in a MOOD. First of all, she woke up before 6 am. She has a child proof knob on her door so she can't get out. All she can do is knock. So I heard her knocking. But I was sitting in the den nursing the baby so all I could do was sit there quietly, willing her to go back to bed. Luckily Andy heard her before he left for the gym, and since it was still dark outside, he was able to get her back to sleep.

It actually stayed dark for a while since it was stormy, so the kids slept a little later than usual. So I was hoping the extra sleep would help Catherine wake up in a good mood. Wrong. She was ornery from the moment she stepped out of her room.

I was making blueberry muffins for breakfast, so she started whining for some as soon as she realized it. But they were still in the oven and not baking fast enough, so she had a meltdown. I got her into her high chair by dangling a banana in front of her, but she had another meltdown trying to "bucka (buckle) myself." When she couldn't do it she started hollering "Bucka me, Mama....bucka ME!" So I snapped the buckle into place, at which point she started screaming "I manna do it....waaaa....waaaa....waaaa....I manna DO IT!"

Then she had a cup of yogurt. She ate it all. Then she wanted another cup. She ate all but one bite and started yelling "I finish, Mama....I all done....I manna get down."

"Don't you want your last bite of yogurt?" I asked her as I held the last spoonful in front of her face.

She bucked back in the chair, hollering "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

Fine, I thought, as I walked off and, not wanting the last bite of perfectly good yogurt to go to waste, crammed it in my own mouth as I tossed the empty cup into the trash.

At this point total hysteria erupted as she started yelling "I MANNA MY LAST BITE......I MANNA MY LAST BITE......WAAAAAA.......WAAAAAAAAAA!" Kicks, screams, tears, stamping of the feet, pounding of the fists, complete drama.

Holy crap, I thought, as I grabbed the cup OUT OF THE TRASH, people, grabbed her spoon, scraped up as much as I could (if I'd had any left in my own mouth I would scraped that out too to stop the hysterics) and said "Here ya go....LAST bite!"

She was happy.

I've been accused of being afraid of Catherine. I think I may be. And well I should be. Very, very afraid.

Now you know why we call her Sybil.

Punkins

Wanted: Babysitter Not on Parole

Andy and I had a date last weekend for the first time in months I do believe. In fact, I can't remember the last time we had dinner together that we didn't have to utter the phrase "you're not leaving this table until you eat finish your dinner." Or "the dog doesn't eat peas." Or "get your fork out of your nose."

Anyway....we ended up with tickets to this swanky fundraiser event at the 11th hour, which meant all the A list babysitters had plans. In fact, the B list babysitters were all taken as well. So we were reduced to standing on the street corner looking for prisoners on work release to come keep our kids. Not really. But close.

But then miracle of miracles, a friend of the regular babysitter of a friend (did you get that?) happened to be free. So I called that friend to see what she knew of "Sarah." Just Sarah is all I had to go by. No last name. And only a cell phone. But the friend had actually used Just Sarah before, and thought a lot of her, and said she was super responsible and very sweet and highly recommended her.

I really wanted a night out. Like I said before, with the first child we did background checks and set up nanny cams for sitters. With the second we at least got a last name. By the time the third child came along, and we became desperate for time away, our standards are only that the sitter (a) has a first name and (b) is breathing. Just Sarah satisfied both of these conditions.

Actually Just Sarah did turn out to be wonderful. She was great with the kids, the kids loved her, and we will certainly call her again. And she's an Auburn fan so she ranks high with Andy.

And as it turns out she does have a last name. Isn't that wonduhful?

Photo Shoot

Ok, everyone lean in next to Stuart so I can get a picture.

I said lean in next to him, not on him.

No, don't kiss him, William. Just put your face next to his.

Now Catherine you put your face next to Stuart. Look at Mama. Say CHEESE!

William, stop making faces. Catherine look at Mama. Everyone smile. I SAID SMILE!

I'm sweating.

I'm exhausted.

I'm done.

And the Word for the Day Is.....

We were eating dinner last night and Catherine, in an unprecedented act of kindness, gave William one of her apple slices. I told her how nice it was of her to share her food. Then William started telling me that he wasn't allowed to share his food with his friends at school. He said the teacher wouldn't let them share. He seemed upset by it.

So I told him that she wasn't trying to keep them from being nice, she was just trying to protect anyone in his class that might have an allergy. Thinking it was a rather big word for a 4 year old, I started trying to explain what an allergy is.

"You know how our friend Dylan can get really sick if she eats peanut butter? Well that's called an allergy. And there might be a little boy or girl in your class who could get sick from eating something that you brought for lunch, even though it doesn't make you sick. So if someone in your class has an allergy, the teacher can't let you share your food. Can you say allergy?"

He just looked squarely at me and said, "I know what an allergy is, Mama. It's like when the house falls on top you."

I squinted my eyebrows and before I could say "Huh?" he corrected himself and said, "No, wait a minute. That's called an e-mer-gen-cy."

You don't say.

Shopping Spree

Ok so remember my last blog entry was about how we were back on schedule and kids were going back to school? Well that was before Catherine woke up last Wednesday morning with a diaper full of toxic waste so lethal that the streets surrounding our house had to be closed to through traffic. I decided that they just don't pay that preschool teacher enough money (they don't pay ME enough money!) to clean up something like that, so it was my civic duty to keep her home that day.

But that just happened to be the day my cleaning lady (God love her for trying to help me keep this place in order) came and since our house is not very big (begging the question WHY do I need a cleaning lady??? You read my blog...you can see why I'd need one if I lived in a shoe) I like to get out from under her feet and let her tackle this mess in peace. So there I was with one 5 month old....one constipated 5 month old who had been given a big bowl of prunes for breakfast....and one 2 year old....who had the absolute and complete opposite condition.

SO what do I do? I decide to go shopping! Now, I must explain that I looked like something that could appear on the best of Jerry Springer. But I needed some new bath rugs for my bathroom and for some reason it seemed like a great time to find some. So off we went to Tuesday Morning.

Stuart in his carrier in the front of buggy, and Catherine sitting in the basket with her juice and cheerios, and I sped through the store looking for the bath rug aisle. I made it there and not 30 seconds later Stuart starts fussing. So I'm pushing the buggy back and forth with one hand and digging through bath rugs with the other. Rugs are falling all over the floor as I'm reaching in with one hand to pull the one I think I want from the bottom of the heap.

About that time I hear (and you'll just have to imagine the sound because I have no idea how to spell it) what sounds like a minor eruption from some one's rear end. Seeing no one else around me, and judging from Stuart's still frustrated look on his face, I could safely assume it wasn't him. Catherine slowly stands up in the buggy and I said softly "Was that you?"

"Uh-huh. I stinky Mama."

Now I knew I really needed to get out of there but I really wanted some rugs for my bathroom. So I furiously start digging through the rugs, looking for three matching ones that I might be able to grab and pay for before the diaper completely fails. But no such luck. Knowing my time was up, I yelled "Hold on Baby" and took off like something that had been shot out of a cannon, over the pile of rugs, towards the front of the store. As I approached the door and wheeled around to back through the un-automatic door, the sirens all went off as Catherine waves around a random tablecloth she had pulled into the buggy. I grabbed it from her, threw it to the cashier, apologized and disappeared before we could all get arrested.

We made it to the car and, after assessing the situation, realized that it had sounded much worse than it was. So I changed her in the front seat, loaded everyone back up and, too embarrassed to return to Tuesday Morning (for probably forever), took my crew into Big Lots. We looked much more like Big Lots shoppers at that point anyway.

I'm putting on a big hat, blonde wig and sunglasses to go shopping later on today. At Tuesday Morning.

Back to School

The kids are going back tomorrow, now that we seem to be over all the puking, pooping and overall puniness. Of course, Catherine will probably run into class and kiss her new friend N. Flu Enza, and William's new buddy Rhoda Virus will give him a present to bring home to share with the rest of us, but at least for tomorrow we'll be back to normal.

Yesterday, as we were having some quality bonding time together, and I was racking my brain to come up with something to do that didn't involve TV or the giant zip loc bag of crayons and old coloring books they are bored to tears over, I decided we'd take a trip to the farmer's market and peruse the harvest offerings, as the temps were all the way down to the mid 80's. So we bundled up and set off to find a pumpkin.

The kids each picked out a tiny pumpkin, and were so proud of them. They got into the car and held them all the way home. William made up a pumpkin song about them and announced loudly that he was going to keep it "forever and ever." And he probably will. Just like that half eaten lollipop I found in his closet a few months ago left over from last Halloween.

I really shouldn't complain, it's just that it turned out to be a very long weekend with all the sickness and whining (more of that than usual). Last night we were attempting to eat dinner, as William was complaining, Catherine was whining and Stuart was about to implode. I had a small glass of wine that I suspected was very tasty but had not even been able to sniff it much less enjoy a sip. So just like *that*, in the midst of all the chaos, I picked up my glass, walked to the front door and as it was closing behind me heard Andy holler "He-LLOoooooooooo???????" just before it clicked shut. I sat down in the rocker on the front porch, felt the breeze blow through my hair, lifted my glass, took a long whiff, swirled it around, and savored the lovely grapes as I said "mmmmm." And the chaos behind that door became invisible to me for just a few minutes. It was the only 15 minutes I'd had to myself in 3 days, other than the couple of times I'd made it to the bathroom alone.

One day I'll laugh about all this.

Ha. Ha.