Remember when you were younger and you thought that when you "grew up" and moved out, you'd be able to do whatever you liked, and your life would be like the show Friends? Every day would be a laugh, there would be interesting things happening all the time, and your friends would have nothing nothing more important to do with their time than hang out at your house where everyone could keep each other entertained with clever witticisms and stories of all the interesting situations they had been finding themselves in? And you'd spend this time wearing really cute comfy clothes and drinking neat hot drinks out of cute mugs?
Remember when you were going to graduate from high school and backpack somewhere?
The other night I dreamed that Mitchell spilled his milk into his high chair tray. I had to take the top part of the tray off to clean the milk up from under it. Some milk dripped down the side of the island. I was really annoyed.
Early yesterday he informed me that his ear hurt. I was impressed. Jordan's first ear infection was made known to me only after an entire day of her being miserable and mean. My girl, who is normally affectionate and snuggly, kicked and hit me throughout the day for no reason. It was unlike her. She was three and a half.
I much like "Mommy, ear hurt" way better.
Yesterday afternoon Mitchie had his nap. He woke up crying, cried for a good half hour and then spent the rest of the day either on my lap or following me around with his blankie and curling up on top of it on the floor of whichever room I was in. It was all very sad. When Steven got home at 5:30 I took Mitchie to the doctor. He moaned and whined and fell asleep in my lap in the waiting room. In the doctor's office he burped and swallowed and heaved a little, but didn't actually throw up.
The doc said he had an ear infection in one ear. I figured. I filled his prescription at Shoppers and went home. We put h…
Lately, I feel like I haven't been paying a whole lot of attention to the kids. Sure I take them to diaper gym, I feed them, bathe them, read them bedtime stories, take them places to visit. But to be honest, I'm so pooped lately! I find that I'm hitting the couch many afternoons after lunch, just to have a quick rest and before I know it I've killed a couple of hours. The kids play on their own or watch tv in the basement, or fight, or make mischief.
I've been thinking that if I ditched the tv during the day we'd all benefit. Theirs has been turned off for a couple of days now. I turn theirs off by turning off the cable box, so there's no way for them to get it back on. I hate when they watch loads of tv.
A friend of mine went shopping the other day, and she showed me this big textbook thing she bought at Chapters. I think it's a supplement to the work kids do in kindergarten. She's been going through it with her son. He turns five at the end of thi…
I was reading some old blog posts today, looking for some information that I had written forever ago, when I came across the post where Tennyson ate the poop. I thought I'd link back to it, because such a post should not disappear into obscurity.
The Good Nite Lite showed up in the mail yesterday. I've never been so happy to get a parcel. We plugged it in last night and explained to the boys that they had to wait until the blue moon turned into an orange sun before they could get out of bed. I set the wake time for 6:30. It suggested setting it for the time the kids wake up and then slowly extend the time over a period of so many days until they're getting up when we want them up. Our kids now get up anywhere from 5:30 to 7:00. I set it for 6:30, since that's usually when I get up during the week.
Mitchie came out of his room at 6:15. I was in bed, feeding Elliot, so Steven tucked him back in and told him that he had to wait for the sun. In his defense, they hadn't actually seen what it looked like in the morning. Fifteen minutes later, both boys came out of their room, all excited about their orange sun. Tennyson has been asking for the light since I told him about it a couple of weeks ago. He told me this morn…
I was just talking to my aunt on facebook about my son's dinnertime antics, and I thought I should share them here.
You know, because the little things that amuse and annoy me in my own home will be oh so interesting for the rest of the world to read. It's not like you have to be here to fully appreciate the story. Much.
Tennyson is a little clumsy. I wish I had his 12 month picture on this computer so I could show you his bumps and bruises. When Jordan was just days from her 12 month picture she fell out of a lawn chair and skinned the tip of her nose. We postponed the picture in favor of getting her back to her pretty, mostly unscarred self.
For the first time in years my kids' immunizations are up to date. I'm seriously considering nominating myself for mother of the year.
Elliot had her 4 month needle this morning. She only cried until I picked her up. She loves her mommy and gets over her owies quickly. I know what you're thinking; she's only 4 months old, what does she know about owies? I don't know if you've met my family. Love hurts sometimes, especially when you're four months old and can't either run away or shove people off you.
My four month old is more than 17 pounds. I sure know how to feed them.
Mitchie had his 18 month needle this morning. I'm a little forgetful sometimes. I know he's 27 months old, but in my defense, he had his 6 month needle somewhere around his first birthday, and the nurse told me he had to wait a year between the 6 month and the 18 month needles. I cannot be expected to remember something like that for a whole year. Not going to happen. I'm just …
Oh no! I forgot about documenting Mitchie's day. Silly me. I may have to do it tomorrow, especially since Mitchie's about to have his nap. Not much to document as he lays on his face and half-drowns in his own puddle of drool. Silly boy.
Today I squished Tennyson into a little ball and then curled myself on top and around him. I told him I was a duck. That little egg laughed so hard. I told him that little eggs were supposed to be quiet and not try to tickle their way out from under their ducks.
More laughter. He has the best laugh. I love hearing them laugh - laugh for real, not goofy, made-up laughs, not even their big funny I'm being tickled laugh.
Sometimes I hear Jordan laugh from the depths of my house, it's rooms, it's basement. I hear her laugh from the bottom of her belly, big little girl chuckles, when you know she's smiling so big her cheeks hurt. Usually I wait a few minutes before going to check on them, because I love the sound of that unabashed laughter. I know that laugh is usually the result of them being exceedingly naughty, so I do have to check, and then they usually end up in time out, but my day is still a little brighter for having heard that laugh.
I've decided to throw in the towel for NaNoWriMo. I am so far behind already, and I don't think I want to donate the hours each day to trying to finish it on time. I'd have to write 2869 words a day to make it by the end of the month.
Sometimes I think that I forget how much other stuff I have to do.
And then there's that baby. Oh yeah, and those other kids. Did you know that many days I'm in that kitchen for over an hour due to lunch? That's right. Lunch. The cheater meal, where I can serve them pb&j sandwiches and bananas. Yet, some how it takes all day. I can't just leave them in there either, because the minute I leave the room they're out of their chairs and running around and it takes even longer.
Then there's laundry. As much as I loved having the novel to blame on the four baskets of clean, wrinkly laundry that I didn't put away for days, it's silly. I need to do laundry! Loads and loads of laundry. And loads.
I was supposed to have a baby shower at my house for a friend today. I was looking forward to it. I was all prepared to make Banana Coffee Cake. It was going to be delicious. There was also supposed to be a sweet new fresh baby.
At about 11am, I find Jordan curled up on the love-seat with her arms wrapped around her middle. She feels warm. I ask her what's wrong. Her tummy hurts. She figures she should have the bucket.
We had the stomach flu four times last year in this house. I shouldn't even say last year, it was more like last winter. The first time was around Halloween, the second time was just before Christmas. The fourth time was the beginning of March. There was a third in there somewhere too. We never have it mildly. The first time we had it, it was ten days from the first time someone threw up until the last time the last kid threw up. It was horrible. After the first few days I could have cried each time a kid threw up all over the living room carpet - again. I think I…
Once upon a time there was a princess in a castle and she wanted to go and see what she could find that was pretty. She wanted to see if she could find a real mermaid to turn her into a princess, because she wanted a new princess friend to play ball. Because she always wanted to play with a friend because she never got to play with anyone, only her king and her queen. And she loved what she saw and she wanted to find a mermaid and she found a mermaid and a rainbow. And then she liked the colours and she liked the mermaid and she turned her into a princess and then they could play together and a handsome prince came and they wanted to marry the handsome prince and they went to a ball and they married so much because they loved each other. Because they love everyone, and they love handsome princes. And then they loved all the princes that they could find and they all wanted to marry him, but there were not enough girls, so then they found some more princesses and then they found a rainb…
You'd think after a month of relentless pressure to blog daily, that I'd take the next few days off. Instead, this is my second post today.
This month is National Novel Writing Month. I've decided to give it a go again this year. Last year I started, but didn't finish. I may have started late even. This year I've decided to give it a go again. Today on the way to Winnipeg and back I thought about what the heck I was going to write about.
I've got it. It's going to be a Gothic-style novel. I've got some of my plot figured out, a few characters decided on, my narrator, etc. I was actually driving home when I started working it out, and much to Steven's dismay I pulled over and made him drive so I could write some stuff down before I forgot it.
Do I want to share it? I don't know. It's probably going to be pretty dumb. I think I'll have more luck actually writing with it without worrying what people are thinking. I may share it in chunks after…
Mitchell was up and wandering around his room before 6:00am this morning. By 6, both boys had sprung forth from their room and headed down the hall to the kitchen. They don't come and crawl into our bed these days.
Steven and I, being the World's Best Parents stayed in bed. A minute later we could hear drawers open and close and cutlery being dropped on the floor. Steven finally huffs down the hall and yells at them to go back to bed. They decide they don't want to. He tells them to go downstairs and play then (great follow-through eh?). He comes back to bed. They go downstairs. Two minutes later there's yelling and crying. Then they're screaming and fighting on the stairs. They come into our room. Steven chases them back into their room and tells them to go back to bed. He shuts the door. Now they're crying, screaming and mad. They're kicking the door. Steven goes back in another time, gives them each a smack on the bum and tosses them into their beds. They…