I am reminded today, Valentines day, of the noise level my kids are capable of. It is crazy and more often uncontrollable.
There are days I see someone with a hearing aid and am slightly envious. To be able to turn it all off…
Today there was noise of happiness but most days in this house – it is just LOUD.
LOUD talking, loud fighting, loud games, loud dancing and the loud toys. Let me tell you – the toys that make noise…curse you all who bought those and may you never have kids of your own. I know that those toys all came from people without kids, because no right-minded parent would buy anything that made noise. We even have those toys that go off randomly by themselves and make you double-check your pants. (too graphic sorry, I digress). I will return the favor to those people…be sure of that.
Is it just me or do small humans have no volume control? Maybe it is just mine. When you talk to them your always “yelling” according to them (not true) and when the YELL at you – you ask them to talk. And what is an inside voice when you have a small litter of kids to talk over? I am afraid…it is yelling to them, so that is how they “talk” to each other. I apologize in a random form to all of those who befriend us or my kids in general. They are not mad, just loud. SO much so that when I take my youngest out alone he TALKS (yells) all the time!
I wish you the best Valentines but more importantly a reflective one that brings you peace.
i leave you with a few peaceful photos taken up north – of the ice on our pier….
peace at dusk
pier wrapped up for winter
I try like crazy to eat well. TRY being the keyword. With the amount of kids and the time that it takes some days, it does not happen every meal.
I hate to admit this but I love Gyros. There I said it. And I hate to admit this second part even more, my favorite ones are served at a gas station on the backside of the lake. The owner previously owned the Gyros restaurant on State street – that WE ALL ate at in college after drinking for hours and then stuff happened and he now has this gas station/gyro stand. So, when you go in there one side is the register and the other is a huge lamb thingy which makes for a fresh hot DE-LISH Gyro.
There are seats in the place and in the summer you sit outside. Best part of that well as you feed you kids bad food they can watch the car wash. If you are questioning if these are the signs of good golden parenting, YES, YES they are. Plus you get to watch all the people coming and going buying gas. Talk about atmosphere!
Well we went there the other night. We walk in and there is four state troopers eating their dinner. And the best part, near the end of meal time and about the same time my kids were getting naughty– They got a call! They all jumped up and went to their cars and turned their lights and sirens on. I mentioned to my kids – that maybe kids at another restaurant where acting up so they had to go…careful they maybe back for us. They were golden after that…especially seeing the guns, and gear up close.
Yes, this is where you can tell me lying to the kids, false stories will warp my kids. Sure, sure…but trust me my kids will have so many things to be in therapy for, so that this adventure, lie, tall tale, will just be a blimp on that radar.
I thought I would mention – Valentines day is coming. Now, is this a holiday I care about…to be honest NO. I do for the kids, and like to do stuff for them. And my mom was always super at sending stuff even as of last year while she was in the hospital. BUT, If you figure I have to either make 52 valentines (and that is not including my youngest..whew), or buy them. Even if I don’t make them….I will have to sit and pretend to have patience while some of them write their names, over & over & over….
Now that the card thing is off my chest. I thought I would share a quick story on why, I do bring up the holiday and gifts.
Years back (PK – pre-kids), at Christmas my husband went all out and got me special gifts. He tried hard this particular year. In years past, I had received long underwear, dirty Jenga, a toaster, and some other sweet loot (ah, right). While all those gifts say love and warm you in some way, they were…lacking. I know, – I am hard to please, and no doubt those gifts surely should have given a boyfriend/husband a good pay out. But, as it turns out – I am just higher maintenance then those particular items – like asking for a card with my name on it – my own name in his handwriting not just printed from our computer like a label – especially now since I have birthed a tribe bearing his name and looks..
So, he tried really hard this one particular year. He went out and found gifts that he deemed “looked like me”.
I opened them with such excitement. First, was a glass set of canisters with silver tops. They were great. I loved them…however, (wait I don’t want to get ahead of myself). The next gift was a sweater that I also loved….
BOTH of which I already owned. The sweater I had received at my birthday that previous summer. And the Canisters were currently on my counter filled. And with glee before I mentioned those two details…my husband says “they both just looked so much like you!”
Yes they sure do…turn around! The canisters look so much like me – because I BOUGHT them this summer while in door county…and the sweater looks like me because I have been wearing it for months…you bought it for my birthday (or had my mom pick it out).
To this day it makes me giggle…and since then I have gotten so many great (super) gifts…and some believe or not have come at Valentines…(and even come with pay outs.)
So, best of luck to you monday! and if nothing else buy yourself a latte.
(and As I mentioned on Facebook, if you are really down…buy a Trenta at Starbucks and fill it with your favorite wine – CHEERS to your own self – as my kids would say)
(AND as a side note: no matter what I write about my dear husband, know that I kindalike him – at least a little )
Okay, I had every good intention of writing a decent blog today/tonight…well,
Let me explain what went down.
Over the last week I developed a goiter on my chin.
I have been lucky, I have had okay skin ( other then dull, pores, color, new wrinkles,aging, etc….You get the picture). Back to my chin, it was painful and I thought it was going to be larger then a mini Cooper. I panicked! (I get these once every few years and could tell it was going to have a real doozy.) So, I ran to Walgreens, bought every acne medicine there was- and scrubbed scrubbed. This worked! I was so proud of myself, until last night. I know, this is where you laugh and say- you are allowed to have kids and you are so dumb? I know, right?
My face was a dry, flaky, sad, mess. No lotion was helping. I am now freaking out. Why? I don’t know, I don’t leave the house barely and have no plans…I, I have no reason. Maybe when I drink my wine, it won’t recognize me and will stop working…
Okay, back to my day…I had a few minutes before an appointment so I ran into Bed Bath and Beyond. I went into there looking for K cups for the coffee machine. Any who, see this dang zit has my mind all screwed up, and I ended up buying a 10X magnifying mirror. SUCH.A.MISTAKE. ( a.) The magnifying level is so strong it is a little hard to see unless you are super close and b) everything can be seen when that close)
Now what I thought was a dry face is now a every nook and cranny problem and an hour after I started- I am far worse and it is past my bed time!
There has to be a support group for people like me, underachieving face destroyers.
Any numbers out there?
Can I have this? Is this mine? Can I have it all to my own self?
These are questions I hear all day, every day.
I am amazed that we can have a zillion toys but they all want what each other has. Even if they all have the same toy – they will fight over one person’s in particular. It is a constant NO win situation. Keep in mind that NOTHING of mine is sacred. Mom’s stuff is constantly being touched, played with or just plain destroyed…So it should be me asking – Can I have this? Is this just mine? It should be me crying over items that are so small that the people bring me wine to cheer me up, my very own, just mine – wine. (okay, just a small hint)
So here is my dilemma, with this amount of little children, at about the same age..is it an automatic that you will develop a hoarder in the crowd. Or is that just my house?
I have a daughter that will literally pack up anything that she gets her hands on and hide stuff in bags, and bags. Once she is “packed” she will either carry the items (bags, dolls, strollers, what ever around with her. OR she will tuck things into her bed, all day. These tactics help her maintain her “stuff” and no one else can get to it. She sneaks up during the day to “place” “her” stuff in there, neatly way under covers, where no one can see it (ignoring the fact that she has GIANT lumps)…AND always leaving someone behind saying, I just had a …? where did it go? I am constantly telling her that half the stuff she collects is not hers. It is a shared item, it is mine, the dogs or GASP an older SIBLING. (This particular sibling will never be as pleasant as the others, and will haul off and clobber her if he catches her, which I try to forewarn her).
Some day in therapy she will most likely complain that we never gave in and got her a bigger bed to fit her most prized possessions. We were just so mean to her and made her sleep with her treasures in a twin! Or she will order some self designed bed…a huge one with secret compartments. Either way, in therapy I will just sit and nod.
At night she has so much stuff in her bed that some of the toys will make noise and wake her, or she just simply can not turn over. I have tried to put baskets next to her bed, and they do get filled up and at the same time the bed is still over stuffed.
Over the weekend, I went into the in the girls room. I decided to go through the basket. GOOD gravy – I have never seen so many items. So, I talked to her, and talked to her. Then decided to go through the stuff and put it all back (with her help).
A few of the items that I found were: Two of my shoes (two different ones) a doggy, a doll, four blocks a christmas decoration, broken headbands, nail polish, dog collar (which we have searched for – FOREVER), gum (I think? icky, sticky, gross, yes, we are going to go with gum, it was in a plastic bag), drum sticks, and candy…
When we got done, she said it was she was happy to put things back and then, THEN – this is what she said:
Did you just want me to put my stuff back so we can share other items? I know you have more fun stuff you would like to share, right?
So years from now when you see her on that TV show, think to yourself, she used to be that sweet-faced girl, with a scream that could pierce your eardrums, and a real eye for JUNK and her mother loved sharing every item with her, whether I knew it or not.
I have always struggled with esteem. I am not sure what it is but, it has always alluded me. It does not help, that I am really shy (believe or not) and self conscious. With that being said, I am finding as I age – things change (good, bad, wrinkly and SOUTH) and I am coming to terms (like a bad contract with tons of small print) and into my own a little more each, well, week okay maybe each month, let’s try for a little more each year. I have no problem with aging though. I love that I am getting closer to 40…We woman get better not older (my mom said that, please don’t burst this bubble for me) The other plus side to aging is that I am starting to realize the things that I thought mattered- don’t. Don’t get me wrong there are other things about myself that make me want to puke, or hysterically laugh like a Hyena…I digress.
ANYWHO…so much for staying on task.
No one told me what life was like with kids – I am talking REAL life…the blogs in the near future will give you insight to what I am I am referring to.
Let me explain how those two things GO together. When I gave birth…no one said to me welcome to having an audience for the rest of your life…and unlike the TV your watching, your audience is in full active participation of the show your hosting.
So, I try my hardest to always get the little humans busy so I can shower in peace. Mostly because I do not need an audience with me for this event. Without fail, they are in there within minutes. All of them. It always starts out – “hey can you draw me in the fog?” Of course, that will always come while I have soap dripping down my face. There am I am drawing on the glass with one hand and trying to keep from going blind with the other. Then the cycle continues, “hey can you sing, hey can you – ”
But the real problem comes once the fog is gone. “What is that!?? Is that your belly? Why do you have that scar? Is that hair? Your Butt is”... I could get more graphic but you get the picture…
All the while you want to scream at them – seriously? Do you know that you little – you did this to me. I used to be okay! (AND HERE IS WHERE YOUR ESTEEM CHANGES) You pause and your brain starts an all new line of thinking : I think that I used to be okay…? Wait was this what I always looked like? And if they are noticing this stuff, How bad is it? Hair is hair right? Do you think that this is what all people look like? I mean they are young and always say nice things to their moms right? WOW it must be bad. Is this what I look like from behind? Are your butt cheeks suppose to rest on the back of your knees? I hope they keep these secrets to themselves. Ugh, is there a soap for this or that?
Just when you feel like you’ve hit bottom, they start to fight and you have to get out. Thinking today – today is the day I will make an effort to be put together. But the fighting continues and you end up – putting on your “fancy” pants (other wise known as: given ups, sweats, sweat pants, yoga pants, elastic lovers, cotton cozies, call them what you will) and realize as you look in the mirror…Well it could be worse, I could have not fit into these and my face could have… no wait, I don’t and I do!
Good thing, I managed to draw a pretty good giraffe on the glass today. I am sure that is a talent worth bragging about. We won’t even go into my shower singing talents…OFF. THE.CHARTS. I am sure in the end – those are the things my kids came upstairs for,
and ah, please hold for my phone to sync to the satellite.
Seriously, we have this ongoing argument in this house regarding cell phones. I am sure that most of you are rolling your eyes, since you do not even have a care about this subject. But I would love to be apart of the new century. At least until Albums come back in style.
Let me tell you my story. My husband works for a telecommunication company. He has access to cell phones, – new ones. So all our contracts are through him (employee, and that particular company) My husband has a blackberry and an old timer cell phone. He is perfectly happy. He can get texts, photos, take photos, email, surf the web, check his work calendar, and do all the things NORMAL people do now days. I well, I think that I still have the cell phone from Saved by the Bell. (Or for you older people – Miami Vice – the first episode.)
My husband got us a new plan a year ago, which allowed me 8 – yes 8 texts a day. I know this is amazing for me and all…but, I have more to say than: I will b thr soon. and then have no back and forth from that. I have friends that are dear to me that MOCK me, and will say “I just texted to you – and I know you’re at your limit, call me.” I try to encourage my husband to text with me. I say oh, we will have it in writing, I will not interrupt your day, and so on. He simply states that he is not a 13-year-old girl, won’t do it. I think that the real reason is that he has giant monkey thumbs and just can’t do it.
So, here I am with my phone, a giant 72 pounder (I never exaggerate). I could not even cheat in a bar setting if we were to go to trivia night…Okay, I am not going to trivia night BUT, if I was asked to, I would have to rely on my people magazine, TMZ and other gossip site insights to help me win, you agree with the burden here right? This shining argument has got me no where. Nor has this next one: All my friends are always on their phones and looking stuff up, sharing photos…This is the reason I have no photos of my kids with me (my phone can’t take them or store them) and why I miss all important things in their lives – aka: nose picking, drool in the car, classic twirls, you get it right? **Side note: Yes I would jump from a bridge if Mrs. Jones had an iPhone to be like her.** I have even played my mom card…MY MOM had an iPhone, that my now 7 year old has a gaming/music device!
Anyone have any way to help me convince the caveman what a great thing this would be for moi and all I could accomplish with a smart phone…
Sigh…then again, I could always get my own with the competition….
So, it was a snow day here…who would have guessed that after 70,000 inches of snow we would have a snow day. The new twist was that school was called the night before, so I with that knowledge, drank wine last night (planning we would not be in a rush today…)
Okay, back to my “rant”…. After a day filled with non stop complaining: I’m hungry (as I clear breakfast dishes), can we watch a movie (not that one), can we get dressed ( normally the beg to stay in jammies-but, not today), can we go outside (only to have the front doorbell ring with kid 1-cold, wanting to pee-as I send the last child out the backdoor). I get the kids to bed.
I sit down in favorite chair, grab my computer and start to think of what I will make for valentines cards…all the while with my husband sitting next to me on the couch…nice, right? Calm? Some might even say bonding.
My husband gets up and disappears, leaving NOVA (PBS) on. A) we never watch this and B) I had on a show of my own when he came in, grabbed the remote and switched it to NOVA. Time goes by…no return. I finally get up and hear the TV on upstairs? Turn off everything downstairs, close up the computer – all the while confused on being ditched. I then realize I can not turn off the TV since I can’t find the remote so I actually have to WALK up to the TV to turn it off. The torture.
I head upstairs and ask- I thought we were hanging out? Him: Yeah, I got bored of that show, and as it turns out there is nothing else on. Me: Well, why did you leave me with it on?” Him: I couldn’t figure out what I did with the remote, so I couldn’t turn the channel or turn the TV off.
I so should have had wine tonight.
There is a reason that wild animals live in dens full of dirt. Because they never has to ask their young ones to clean up.
When you ask my kiddos to clean you would be amazed how “bloken” all their parts become. (that would be broken, in triplet language).
Their necks go limp and that hinders them from looking around for toy parts. Their legs go numb and I suspect tingling, just guessing this because just after I state we are going to clean up now…they fall to the ground and writhe around in pain. And finally – my favorite….the complete blank brain and glassy eye action that happens.
It is okay, I am sure that in time it will all come around. Right? I am sure that at some point they will want to clean up and that will be so exciting to them that they might even want to clean extra rooms….right? Yep. I am counting on it.
Okay while on a plane ride home from a bitter SWEET adventure. I happen to chat with a young energy filled woman. I was struck at her “happiness” and felt the instant vibe of a go getter.
With that I reflected on my weekend. It was one of GREAT adventure but at the same time some of the deepest sadness I have felt since my mother’s passing in November. So L’s attitude reminded me of all things mom.
First off, any one that knew my mom knew that there was not a day that went by that she did not get up, get dressed and put her all into her day even when feeling at her worst. I never knew her to take this disease lying down…she never ever said why me, or I will be in bed all day…I bring this up because the woman on the plane remind me of that. SO…I have really been sitting on the side lines since my mom passed. I realized start fresh, vent new and get off my butt (in all ways – write again, exercise, laugh, and enjoy)
with that I start this here very new blog. Fresh, start over…give up the old ones… (as suggested by my new-found friend on the plane).
SNOT a Rant…. I hope I find it easy to write the stuff that is with me daily. And maybe it should have been called “who is that behind me in the mirror…oh my sagging ass”…but we will in honor of the number of nostrils in this house start with – Snot a Rant. Plus Snot is just stuff that comes from your head right? hee hee – yes I need to get out more.