Happy Birthday Hubby! (Warning its a totally mushy post)

Today is my husband’s birthday. This morning on my way to drop Logan off at daycare while he played his “DDS” I prayed out loud. This is a common thing for me. I have all but mastered how to block out the sounds of Sonic and Ninja Turtles during my prayer time. You got kids, you improvise and make minor adjustments to your “quiet time.” 

I was thanking God for my wonderful husband. Again, this is a daily and common thing for me. But specifically, I felt great appreciation for the Lord creating this man that I am so blessed to call mine. 

We are newlyweds and surely naïve in some aspects. Although, we have both been married, divorced, single parents, and now re-married. Blending a family is about as easy sticking a wet noodle thru a key hole. So while we are newlyweds we are by no means newbie’s at this gig. Its work. Some days we work for free, some days we get a raise, some days we work overtime,  some days we call in sick, some days it doesn’t feel like work at all. 

But every day is better because of him. He adds so much to each one of us. He makes us better versions of ourselves. He brings out the best in me. Who he sees when he looks at me is a woman I strive to be every day. 

He’s honorable, honest, trustworthy, reliable, dependable, accountable, considerate, patient and passionate. He has a servant’s heart. He’s simple, even when I complicate things. He’s fair, generous, brave, funny, drop dead handsome. He’s selfless and giving towards others. He shares everything. He has no secrets. He doesn’t have a passcode on his phone. (SCORE! Am I right ladies?) He brings me chocolate and wine just because. He hides love notes in random places for me to discover randomly. He is my hero. And it’s not every day that I recognize ALL of his amazing qualities. Sometimes I forget how blessed I am that God aligned things perfectly for he and I to create this beautiful union of marriage and step-kids.

So today I wanted to take a moment to jot down all of his wonderful qualities and say Happy Birthday Kurt. You are more than I ever prayed for. You are more than I could ever deserve. I love being your wife. I love you!

Icemagedon 2013 Replay

Four days and five nights stuck indoors with my kids and husband. That is approximately 4,246 hours in mommy time. According to Facebook I should be cherishing this extra time with my loved ones; spending it watching Christmas movies next to the fireplace, roasting chestnuts and holding hands. Well we don’t have a fireplace and you can only watch the Grinch 17 times before it gets old (tested by yours truly). Plus I hate chestnuts. So in summary, we SURVIVED the Icemagedon of 2013, we didn’t THRIVE in it. 

The best versions of ourselves were not on display.

Granted, there were a few moments of cuddling on the couch, cooking and playing games. But we were in there for F-I-V-E nights people! There’s only so much Jenga and connect four an adult mind can absorb.

Guess how many things children agree on when trapped inside close quarters for 4 days straight?

Not much. Almost every activity involved an element of arguing. 

Watching a movie? I WANNA WATCH THIS! NO WE JUST WATCHED THAT AND IT’S MY TURN TO PICK IT! MOOOOM!

Finally agree on a movie? I WANNA SIT THERE! NO I WAS HERE FIRST! MOOOOM!

Playing a game? I WANNA BE BLUE! NO I’M BLUE!!!! MOOOOM!

Finally distinguish who is Blue? YOU CHEATED! IT’S NOT YOUR TURN! STOP IT! MOOOOOM!

Coloring? THAT’S MY COLORING BOOK? NUH-UH YOU GAVE IT TO ME! NOOOO GIVE IT BACK! MOOOM!

Cooking? I WANNA POUR THE FLOUR IN! NO I GET TO AND YOU GET TO POUR IN THE SALT! NUH-UH! MOOOOOM!

It was like merging all the animals from the zoo into one habitat and hoping for the best.

Thankfully Kylee found a friend who just moved in next to us. Same grade, same school, score! (Or so I thought) I went over and introduced myself to the new friend’s mother. We exchanged information and took turns letting the girls play inside our houses. Except they were always at my house and I quickly realized who drew the short straw on this deal. 

I knew Kylee’s friend was special when she walked in the front door without knocking and shouted “Good morning guys” the day after we met her. At 9:08AM!

I had a brief manners tutorial with her and went back to my bacon.

Day 2 of knowing this girl, she tells me she’s ready for lunch. Our food supply was critical and I was unsure of when we could make it to the grocery store for a refill of essentials. So I suggested she walk next door and let her mom know. She seemed sincerely surprised that I was not going to prepare her a meal… But she quickly complied and informed me she would be right back after lunch. Great. The door will be locked open!

When she returned after lunch, she informed me she wants to paint her nails and asked where I keep the polish. I told her in my bathroom and I would get it for them. She shewed me away and said, “No, I’ll get it” and walked herself into MY bedroom, into MY bathroom, into MY cabinet and marched out with all of MY nail polish. She later spilled some on the carpet and casually chalked it up to, “Yeah sometimes I forget to put lids on things.” This one had no home training whatsoever and I realized now why they were at my house the entire time. Her mom was home alone, poppin champagne and celebrating her new found freedom from her menace child!

The other fun fact about Kylee’s friend is she can’t tie her shoes. SUPERB! Just what my nerves need! Another kid who can’t do something for themselves.Every time the girls came inside and removed their shoes, I would have to assist in the untying of her double knots, then retying her shoes with a double knot, per her request! Somehow this new friend that once seemed like the answer to Kylee’s boredom has now become my third child to take care of, entertain and feed! 

But alas, all good things must run into a big brick wall, crash and burn. (Insert evil laugh here) One of the last days stuck inside, this girl decides she doesn’t want to play with Kylee anymore. She simply wants to sit with me, and play with our dog. A request not easily accepted by Kylee. She tells her the ground rules. Basically if you’re in her home, you will play with her. If not, BUH-BYE! I tried to soften the delivery of Kylee’s harsh message but I totes agreed with her. I was already struggling with entertaining 2 bored kids, I was not about to willingly take on another one that can’t even tie her own shoes. The main reason I welcomed this kid into my home was to keep Kylee busy. The girls began to argue about something petty so I sent her friend home and locked the deadbolt behind her! 

At this point I realized I was reaching my all I can take point and one dirty misplaced sock could send me over the edge. GO, GO GADGET PATIENCE!!!!

I was low on wine and tampons so make your own assumptions how the rest of our ice days played out! Even my face rejected the effects of being trapped inside. No make up for 96 hours and I still manage to get a zit that feels like it has roots behind my eyeball! 

I’m finally back at work with where truck drivers cuss at me and customers are never satisfied and it always my fault,  and I couldn’t be happier. Let the choir sing and doves fly free!

I hope my fellow North Texas friends fared better than we did.

Balls to the wall

There’s a moment in parenthood when your child crosses over from baby, to not baby. It happens really quick so if you’re catching up on Walking Dead and Homeland episodes you’re liable to miss it. That moment when being naked in their presence was once acceptable is no longer, acceptable.  You don’t realize it happened until a situation arises and you’re forced to get all up in their sacred places. 

Logan had been scratching at himself for a couple days. I finally came to terms with the fact that I needed to have a looksie. (Shivers) So I awkwardly make the request that he let me look at his wee-wee. His petrified expression assured me we had entered the I’m too old for you to see me naked stage.

Upon further review I determined he did in fact have chapped balls. Now, I’ve never had chapped balls in the literal way, but I have in the hypothetical way and can imagine the literal way is much more unpleasant. I’m just guessing.

Despite what my enemies might say about me, I’m not a ball expert and have no idea what to do with such things when they’re damaged. Fearful I might be arrested for researching toddler wiener help on Google, I opted with Vaseline. Applied that for a couple days but the itching persisted. Only now, there was a light pink rash spreading everywhere. Oh my balls  stars! 

After taking his junk to a professional to assess the damage he was diagnosed with a yeast infection. Apparently yeast is does not discriminate towards the female sex.  Who knew? I could have cured this myself with a little Monostat. Knowledge for the future. So, he’s prescribed some cream and we are instructed to apply this cream, twice a day for 14 days. With our hands. 

Each time I go to put this cream on his no-nos he screams, NOOOOOO! DON’T PUT IT ON MY WEE-WEE!!! Well excuse me son, where would you like me to put it? Your ear? Trust me, I can think of a hundred other things I’d rather rub cream on and my toddler’s junk ain’t one of em. This isn’t a day at Disney for me either. He puts up a valiant struggle; Limbs and other things go flying everywhere. He finally succumbs to the awkward realization that this is gonna happen. He assumes the wishbone position, and our decent into hell begins. We don’t make eye contact. He looks away, up and backwards like women do at gyno visits.  This cream must be completely rubbed in for it to really work. So basically I’m forced to do a Swedish massage on his stuff and it’s so, so terrible. 

Repeat all of the above twice a day. 

This time a few weeks ago after school I would ask, “How was your day buddy?” Now I’m asking, “How’s your wiener today?” 

This goes against nature. Nothing about this is right.

Halloween, this and that round up post.

Well thank the heavens that is over. That being the kid’s (separate) birthday parties, the Halloween parties, the classroom parties, the Halloween projects and Halloween itself. I’m really looking forward to the 7 and a ½ days that I don’t have to be prepping for holiday.  

Texas weather failed us this week and a lot of the Halloween plans we made were cancelled and/or rescheduled. We ended up going to a trunk or treat with some friends. All of those festival things are the same. Waiting in long lines to throw a ball into a box to get a piece of candy; trying to convince the kids that it’s fun and worth the wait. It usually isn’t. But the candy compensates for their disappointment. But not mine. Now-a-days 97% of kids are allergic to peanuts, peanut butter and everything else delicious.  So needless to say there was a severe shortage of Reeses, snickers, Butterfingers and Twix for me to steal from their buckets. Great! There goes my motivation to participate in Halloween. Logan redeemed the holiday for me by mispronouncing WOLVERENE with Nuva-Ring. The birth control ring. Look mom, it’s a Nuva Ring! Awesome. 

We are gearing up for a camping trip next weekend with some friends. My enthusiasm and gung-ho-ness about a family fun trip is transforming into overwhelming TO DO lists and I can sense the early onset of panic beginning to nestle its way into my mind. Its gonna be ok. Its gonna be fun. We won’t forget anything. This is the mantra that I repeat in my mind. It isn’t working yet but it should kick in any day now.

The latest news with the kids and life, in no particular order:

The kids have eased up on making my life a living hell at dinner time and started to eat what we cook. I think they sensed my give a damn with dinner function had busted. Either way, praise God!

Kylee was moved into an IP math class for Identified Potential. Clearly the math gene skips a generation as I need a calculator to see how much I’ll save on a 2 for $5 special.

Logan has finally stopped peeing on the seat. For the most part.

Isaac remembered to wear socks on with his tennis shoes. 

I can’t remember if I wrote about my car issues or not. But in summary, it broke, it cost $900 and 7 days to fix. The day I picked it up we rode home with the windows down then they wouldn’t roll back up. Are you firggin kidding me? I had to duck tape a trash bag to the window. A TRASH BAG YALL! My boss wrote “Getto” (misspelled on purpose) on the trash bag thus making it more humiliating to drive. I took it back to the dealership and displayed my give a damn is busted attitude. They fixed the windows. Ahh well they got them to roll up at least. The point is my paid off car is working again. Just don’t try to roll the windows down. 

Have a good weekend friends!

I spy with my tiny little eye....

I hate little kid games. You do too. Let’s just all be honest about that one. I used to love little kid games, when I was a little kid. But now, running in circles, carefully selecting whose head to touch, hiding in a closet waiting to be ‘seeked’ and spying things with our tiny little eyes. Nah I’m good. Really, I am. 

Unfortunately the kids love the kid games and alas, I must participate or risk wearing the worst mother of the year t-shirt. It’s still at the cleaners from last year. 

This morning on the shuttle to daycare Logan cordially invites me to play I spy. Something about the sound of the last child I will ever have’s voice makes me very agreeable to pretty much every request he makes. Can we snuggle? Yes. Can we play? Yes. Can I have sugar in the raw? Yes. Can we live together forever? YES. (Calm down Kurt, not literally forever. But close) Ahem, anyway…

.

Playing I spy in the car is not safe. Looking for colors instead of construction ahead signs? Not good. But we do it anyway. So here is my convo this morning with lil dude.

Logan: I spy with my tiny little eye… mom my eyes aren’t tiny because I’m four now right?

Me: Right.

Logan: I spy with my….tiny little EYE something orange.

Me: The air freshener?

Logan: What’s an air freshener?

Me: This right here (I’m pointing to the air freshener)

Logan: Oh ya!

Me: Was that it?

Logan: Ya! I spy with my eye more stuff.

Me: More stuff?

Logan: Yeah, cause my eyes sees lots of stuffs. BLUE!

Me: The car in front of us?

Logan: Where?

Me: In. front. Of.us…. (not a proud mommy moment)

Logan: Oh yeah!!

Me: Logan what did you spy that was blue?

Logan: I didn’t.

Me: You said you spied with your eye something blue and I guessed the car.

Logan: Now I spy something golden.

Side note: nothing inside of my car is golden

Me: Um…..  I don’t know…

Logan: Me either. I don’t want to play anymore.

Then I spied with my tiny little eye, THE DAYCARE!

I win.