Wonder Women

I would like to thank the millions of women who fought for equal rights, equal pay.  I would like to thank you for bringing attention to issues of domestic abuse, sexual harassment and women’s health.  Don’t get me wrong, working is not a bad thing, I love my job, but all these movements took more women out of the home and away from their children.  And today it’s almost frowned upon to want to be a stay at home mom or not put forth 1000% (yes I meant the extra 0) effort at work and then again at home.

Yet society is suffering.  Kids are neglected and given less attention.  Sitting them in front of the TV while Mom scrapes together enough energy to pop in a cardboard pizza and maybe throw in a load of laundry is just easier.  They are entertained, they aren’t hitting each other, and they stay in one place.  

What we are missing is family time.  We need parents, mom or dad, to stay at home to cook a meal, clean the house, shuttle kids, and not be overwhelmed with it because they also put in 40+ hours at a job. We need the time to be able to connect with each other as spouses and as parents.  We deserve the time to relax and enjoy each other as a family.  We need to quit being exhausted.

Adding a third child last spring, kid going to kindergarten this fall, and an art class to my teaching duties has added extra excitement to my life.  It wasn’t until the other night that I realized how much is giving because of this.  My kindergarteners give every day.  I have amazing, truly amazing teachers who help take over when I’m gone to art, but I can tell the kids identify with me as their teacher.  I can also tell that I'm not as connected with my kindergarteners as I want to be.  This bothers me because kindergarten is the first formal year of school and they need stability. 

My kids at home are suffering too.  I really don’t get any school work done at home anymore, but I’m not present when I’m home.  My mind is always on the next step or trying to figure out what I missed.

The other night I had an epiphany as I watched Miri let go of the side of the tub and stand on her own for about 10 seconds before she dropped down on her bum.  She was so excited and her face lit up.  I realized something needs to go.  Something needs to change.  I needed to share in Miri's excitement more.  I had always promised not to put work in front of my family and I was doing that.  I decided to give up a meeting I was supposed to attend.  It was a very hard decision because I don’t back out of things, but it had to happen.  Now I feel wonderful about this decision.  It was the right one for my kids and me.

To all you Wonder Women out there, I challenge you to do two things: 1) get rid of some responsibility in your life and then fill that time with your family.  2) spend some me time, whether it’s 5 minutes every day or 20 on the weekend.  I suck at the me time too, but I’m working on it.  We deserve this.    

Dishes

The dishes from last night were sitting on the table as I walked in the door at 5:45PM.  I wasn't sure what we were having for supper.  I wasn't sure what dishes were clean to cook with or what food was thawed.  I scrapped together some leftovers (my husband will be thrilled, especially since it's the 3rd? night in a row). 

But anyways, the dishes from last night were stacked on top of the dishwasher with care.  I found edible food, so our tummies are full, but tonight's dishes are still on the table.  The parishable items are in the fridge, but the frying pan is on the stove, the plates and glasses sit there covered in ketchup and orange peals. 

The counter above the dishwasher is towering with the plates and bowls from I'm guessing two or so days.  They will probably fill the dishwasher, but we'll have to wait until the clean dishes get unloaded first.  The sink has dishes in various stages of soaking.  They are the ones that aren't supposed to go in the dishwasher, but they somehow end up in there.....(darn cleaning lady!  I will have to have a talk about that again!)

My dishes and I are on the need to use program.  I need to use it, I wash it.  They sit patiently waiting for me in the dishwasher, and when I need another clean one, I get it.  Eventually the dishwasher is depleted of its clean dishes and then, in go the dirty ones.  And so the cycle continues. 

It's not like I hate doing the dishes...well the dishwasher part.  I still wish my hand dishes could wash themselves.  It's survival mode during the week.  The big kids need this, that and the other thing.  Something's up high, or "Degan hit me" or "Miri's getting into _____"!  Miri Jo is cruising around the furniture and I know that when walking happens a whole new world of challenges awaits.  I've also just desided that hanging out with my kiddos is far more important than the dishes.  I mean, I'm not out of clean ones yet!

So here I go blogging instead of cleaning up those dishes...but hey they'll wait for me.  They always do!

Diversity

I hate this question: “How many little Indian kids do you have in your class?”  I hate it for many reasons…

1.     First I have NO Indian kids in my class.  They are Native Americans.  Their people were here before your people.  That is if we are keeping score.

2.    Does it matter????? NO, it doesn’t matter.  There are many prominent issues in my school, poverty, abuse, neglect, alcoholism just to name a few.  These issues occur regardless of race. 

3.    Do you think anyone ever asks an African American or Native American teacher, “How many little white kids do you have in your class?” and if they did, would they ask it with the same preconceived notions they do about “Indian” kids?

4.    There are special things about each race.  I think Europeans (yes, us white folk) sometimes don’t get this because we often don’t identify and celebrate with a particular group.

When a student walks in my room I worry about many things, but race is not one of them.  I care about whether or not that child has had enough to eat.  Did he or she sleep well?

I care who they live with, so if they show hostility to a dad who has never existed or a mom who left them I can try to understand.  Can Grandma keep up with them?

Do they feel taken care of?

Do they feel loved?

I love all my kids, from the kindergarteners to the high schoolers.  I feel terrible when they have a bad day.  I worry when they don’t work.  I pray always that they are taken care of beyond my classroom walls.

What can I do to stop this?  Well I need to get the courage to explain to people why I don’t like that question.  I’m starting today with this blog.  Maybe after getting it out in print I’ll have the courage to say it out loud.

If you are curious about my classroom, ask me about its diversity.  Ask me about the individuals that make up my classes.  Ask me about the people, not the race.

Compliments

“You have a beautiful family,” a middle aged man sitting behind me in church says during the sign of peace.   “Thank you,” I reply with a smile.  I know this.  I know I have good kids, but it’s nice to hear it from someone else, a  stranger no less. 

Our kids are very well behaved most of the time.  They are friendly.  They are polite.  We have our moments.  I would like to strangle them at times, but I couldn’t ask for better children.  We all think this of our kids, and rightly so.  As mothers we are proud of them.   We want the best for them.  We think they are the best.

Compliments like the one I got in church today don’t come every day.  I hear it every now and again, but I don’t think people realize the impact they make on each other when they compliment.  When I receive a compliment about my children it stays with me.  It helps during the frustrating times when I’ve asked Deegan to get dressed for the thousandth time and it is 10 minutes until we need to meet the bus.  It helps when Mazee’s screaming about Deegan throwing something at her.  It helps when I’m frazzled with getting four of us out the door in the morning.

Sincere compliments are special.  They are important.  And we are humans should compliment more often and receive compliments with grace.  We often try to shrug off compliments, but we should reply thank you and accept the compliment. 

My challenge to myself and all of you, sincerely compliment one person a day.   

Mi Vida Loca

It's been awhile...life's been crazy.  All sorts of funniest has happened, but logging on to document hasn't been part of the plan.  Something about just wanting to collapse at 10PM when Miri finally goes to sleep only I still have dishes to put in the dishwasher and socks to pick up off the floor.  Truth be told, the table often still has supper dish on it in the AM and the socks just pile up until Saturdays, when Mount Laundry gets tackled.

I have found out that with Deegan in kindergarten things got way more interesting.  It should be noted that Deegan attends the school closest to us and I travel 30 mins to work, therefore I don't teach Deegan.  Which is most likely a good thing for both of us.  But it means two schedules to keep track of.  I realize that this is no different from parents who don't teach and their kids enter school, but since I'm at school and he's at school I'd like our lives to jive more than they do.

I know life with kid schedules will only get more hecktic so the other night I was tucking Deegan in and I said, "Deegan how about you just stay this size for alittle while longer?'  Deegan relied, "Mom I just can't control myself!"  I asked Mazee too.  Her answer wasn't near as cute, but she wants to keep growing too.

The girls are having a ball at daycare.  Mazee started play school one afternoon a week and LOVES it.  She's been hearing about how wonderful school is for 2 years and now she can actually go.  She has "school underwear" (her Tinkerbell unders which we have 6 pair of) that cannot be worn unless it's a school day.  Those extra 6 pair could come in super handy but they are only allowed to be used on Tuesdays. 

Miri's the bully at daycare.  She chases the baby around and pull on her pants.  She also likes to do naughty things like pull all the DVD's off the shelf.  At least I know she'll be able to hold her own with the big kids!

Today I watched my 6 week old neice for a few hours.  Sammi and Miri got hungry at the exact same time.  I knew that would happen and you can't just keep one waiting.  So I hooked Miri up (if you're new to my blog, yes Miri is my daughter) and had Mazee assist as I propped Sammi up on the other side.  Sammi sort of sat on Miri and I balanced a bottle.  Miri patted Sammi while they both ate.  Thank goodness no one was here to run the camera!

Little Things that Scurry

I hate little things that scurry, especially if they are in my house.  Outside, not so much a problem, but inside dreadfully horrifying.

In our old house mice were not common thanks to a hubby who heavily baited the basement, and the bull snakes that lived under the old back steps (we discovered these friends while tearing the house down).  We had a few.  The first one I found while doing laundry the first year we were married.  I lifted the top layer of dirty laundry off the hamper and a mouse was there.  YUCK!!  I threw the clothes back on top, ran out of the laundry room, and shut the door. Not like that helped because there was a good 2 inch gap between the floor and door!  I didn't haul the hamper outside and dump it because that would require being far too close to something that might run out and scamper up my arm!!  Laundry was tramatizing for a few months after.

I think we may have had one or two more mice in the house, but the only other memorable one was the "drunk" mouse we had the spring before we moved into the new house.  Deegan, Mazee and I were getting ready to head out to school.  Deegan comes into the kitchen to tell me there's a mouse in "his room" (it's the old dining room so the poor kid really didn't have a room!).  I'm thinking sure whatever, but no there is was stumbling around like a drunken sailor.  Thank goodness Troy was still home because I told the kids just to leave it alone.  Although they were intrigued and wanted to watch it.  Troy corraled it quickly but the kids talked about it for months afterward.  In fact I'm sure Deegan still remembers.

We moved into the new house and I breathed a sign of relief thinking I didn't need to worry about the creepy little devils any longer.  We had a breach in security in the garage last fall, but I could handle them being in the garage.  The only thing yucky there was the one that wouldn't die on the sticky trap for 4 days.  When it finally kicked the bucket, I used the longest stick I could find, got the stick stuck to the trap and hauled the trap outside.

We had another breach in secruity a couple weeks ago thanks to our puppy who chewed a hole in the insulation and caulking where the air conditioner lines go into the house.  At least we think that's where this all started. 

I heard scratching a couple weeks ago coming from under my cupboards.  I thought maybe it was a cricket (because we've also been invaded my them) stuck in the vent.  A day later I find mouse droppings in my upper drawer where the pot holders are kept.  YUCK!  So I clean out the drawer and locate sticky traps.  Okay, Troy located traps.  Even they freak me out to a point.

Bait the trap and place in the draw.  No mouse, no mouse, no mouse, no mouse sightings until a few days later when I catch some scurrying across the living room floor one morning.  Deegan swears he sees it under my chair in the living room.  Brave me moves the traps to strategically place them around the last sighting and we go to school.  I'm sure we'll catch a mouse by time I'm home from school.  What mouse can resist peanut butter?

Nothing, nothing, nothing again for a couple days.  Then there is mouse turds in my island draws, the top  one where utensils are kept and the middle one where the baking stuff is kept.  Don't ask me what this mouse was thinking, but it didn't get into the bags of sugar or box of dried milk.  I clean out the draw, put thinging in containers that cannot be biten into easily and place a sticky trap in the drawer. 

The next time evidence shows up is once again a few days later when I find droppings in the bottom draw of Miri's dresser in the back of the house!  By now Troy and I are frustrated beyond belief, and I am no longer scared of the darn thing, I just want him out.  I'm also thinking that Troy is just messing with me as well!  This time spring traps are our weapon of choice.  I bait and set and strategically place them once again.  NOTHING AGAIN!!!!!!!!

Friday night, I'm thinking about making biscuits.  I open the baking drawer and catch mouse poo out of the corner of my eye.  "Darn thing escaped being caught again" I'm thinking.  Nope there is it, poor sucker, stuck completely to the trap.  I didn't even freak out, however I shut the drawer and waited until Troy came home to remove it.  We did not have biscuits for supper. 

We checked the other traps just in case, but all are empty, except we can't find the original stick trap in the hot pad holder drawer.  Some how it ended up in the bottom of that cupboard with all the peanut butter gone.  I'm justing hoping it was the same mouse that we caught.

Some how I'm thinking this story may not have ended yet.  So stay tuned, part two of little things that scurry may be in the works.   

1st days of school

The first days of school are always an adventure, especially in the kindergarten room.  This year nothing too crazy has happened yet, but I'm sure it will soon.

I forget how little they are when they get to kindergarten and the wide range of abilities and knowledge they have.  Some come knowing all their letters and sounds and reading.  Others come without ever picking up a pencil and quite possibly having never seen a book either.  They all join together ages 5 & 6 bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

The poor things are absolutely exhausted by 10AM and are STARVING.  Not hungry, the I haven't eaten in a million years starving.  And I'm starving too because we are all used to grazing our way through the summer.  Suddenly we have to eat on a schedule again.  After lunch they are wondering when they get to go home.  Some are rubbing eyes and yawning while others are bouncing off the walls to stay awake. 

Rest time rolls around and you'd swear they should all just go to sleep the second their head hits the mat.  But no, they are WIDE awake now because of the "I might miss something if I shut my eyes" syndrome we all have when we're little (well and some of us when we're big too!).

Attention span is that of a nanosecond, so moving around, singing crazy camp songs, and shaking the ants out of our pants become common place. 

Books are wonderful but questions are answered entirely off topic because of the nanosecond.
 
Imaginations run wild and we all have pet elephants named Edgar by the end of the day.

I'm positive that parents and grandparents think I have completely lost my mind when their child comes home with stories.

The year will progress quickly.  Soon the kids who have never been in school mix in with those spending another year with Mrs. J.  They will learn things lightening fast, and by the end they will be all grown up ready for 1st grade.  It never will cease to amaze me the million miles kindergarteners come in a year.  I am throughly convinced I can never become bored there, and that they are some of the best times ever. 

Light Bulbs, yes Light Bulbs

There must be 8 million types of light bulbs in this world, and our house contains every single kind. 

The problem began when we chose lighting for our house.  It was one of the last cosmetic decisions Troy and I had to make about the house, and we were downright sick and tired of making choices.  It was so hard at that point.  And who knew we needed to know so much information when we went shopping?  Number of can lights, length of bathroom vanities, yada yada yada…

Time out: Here’s where I remind readers of my sarcasticness.  My hubby was prepared with all the numbers.  I was just there to look cute.  Oh and pick out cute lights. 

When we got to Menards it took us so long to decide what to pick that people actually thought we were there to inspect the ceiling!  With stiff necks and tired heads we chose lights, of course not thinking about what light bulbs were necessary.  Who would think about that?  Really hook them up, flip a switch, ta da!

It wasn’t until light bulbs started burning out that we realized the trouble we had gotten ourselves into.  First ones were can lights.  Those are all the same and we must have thousands in the house.  No big deal right?  Wrong, those come in flood or spot, efficient and I suppose not efficient, this wattage, that wattage, these volts, those volts.  Luckily they come in a really big box and Troy bought them.  Problem solved.

Next went out a light in our bedroom. After wrestling with the shade on the fan, etc. come to find out it takes one of those fancy flame looking lights.  Who cares?  If you’re not seeing them why not make them your standard filament or compact florescent?  Really?

But the crem de la crem is the lights in the kids’ rooms.  Mazee’s had a light out for 4 months now and Deegan for who knows how long.  These lights do not contain your regular light bulb with all is normalness.  Instead of the normal sized screwy in part, they require the small screwy in part, the bulbs are round, and they are a 40 watt bulb.  Do you know where you can find such special bulbs?  Not just anywhere my friends.  Wal-mart carries them, but the closest Wal-mart is an hour and a half away!  Seriously!  (well they maybe carry them other places.  It’s not like I spend all my free time checking out locations of my “favorite” light bulbs!)

Changing all these lovely light bulbs is material for another blog at a later date.  So boys and girls, when your kindergarten teacher starts talking about how to build a house be sure to pay attention to the choosing lighting section.  Apparently I missed that day of kindergarten!  

The shoe is on the other foot

For five years now I have been greeting parents at my kindergarten door and assuring them their kids are going to have a great year in kindergarten.  I tell them about what we are going to do and that school is a wonderful thing.  Parents leave slowly, some a little teary eyed.  And I think to myself, "I'm glad they love their children, but this is school.  It's part of growing up.  Their kids are going to do well."
Monday night I tuck Deegan into bed at 8:30, a full hour and a half earlier than his summer routine (luckly we have been practicing for a few weeks now).  He says, "Mommy my heart hurts."  "Why's that?" I ask.  He says, "Because I'm going to miss you and Daddy tomorrow."  My heart melts at that point.  "Deegan, you're going to get playing with your friends and you're not even going to miss us."    Deegen smiles and snuggles down to sleep. 

Tuesday morning we're up at the crack of dawn.  Deegan's always been an early riser, but 6:30 is pushing it to be awake and moving!  He's dressed, eats breakfast and we head down the lane.  You can tell this is exciting for the whole family because Mazee's up and dressed so she can walk down with us. 

We're walking sluggishly down the lane.  While we're waiting Deegan says to me again, "Mommy I'm ready to go, but my heart still hurts a little."  "Mine does too Deegan, but it's good to miss people.  It means you love them." I said. 

The bus pulls up, Deegan jumps on and waves like crazy through the window.  He's fine.  He's excited.  I knew he'd be.  Me, I'm not a blubbery mess or anything, but my heart hurts.  How did my little guy get to be so big??  I'm excited for him too.  I'm also excited that I'm not his teacher.  I think he'll be great for his teacher, but I don't think his mom as his teacher would be a good thing. 

It's a new feeling.  One, now that my child is big enough to start school and here starts the super busy part of my life.  Two, now I have to completely trust others to watch and guide my child.  I take comfort in knowing that teachers are good people and that I have heard many good things about the teachers at his school. 

I guess nothing can prepare you for letting your first born go to kindergarten, even if you've been to kindergarten yourself and teach kindergarten.

 

If you want to make God laugh...

My Godmother and a song have a line that says, “If you want to hear God laugh tell Him your plans.”  God has laughed at me a lot through the years. 

Following God’s will means leaving the big decisions of life up to Him.  It means rolling with the punches, listening to your gut, being surprised.  Many times it means accepting the unexpected.  What I do know about God’s little surprises is that as long as you have let God be in control, things will work out they way they are supposed to. 

In college I started out as an art major.  I wanted to go into graphic design.  I didn’t know it was an art major.  (Truthfully I had no idea what major it should be, but why would one need to know how to draw if they were going to be working at a computer all day?)  After attending my first design and drawing classes I thought I would die (and have no time to play).  Through a couple of stressed out weeks, countless calls to my mommy, and trips to my poor, overly patient advisors office I decided to stick with an art minor.  It was a great decision.  My life has been enhanced because of it, and this year I will become a part time high school art teacher.  The whole crazy art lady thing is some what scary, not going to lie.  But I can see God's hand in this madness and therefore I know it is for good reasons.   

If it weren’t for God’s sense of humor I wouldn’t have my daughter Mazee.  Well I might have had her but not 19 months after her brother.  Without giving you all the biological details, I can tell you without a doubt we were completely surprised when we found out we were pregnant with Mazee.  Deegan just turned one.  I was planning on moving from 5^th grade to kindergarten (which scared the bajeebuz out of me). And I was still trying to cope with being sleep deprived from a one year old who still wouldn’t sleep through the night.  How the heck would I handle two kids?  Oh and the house we lived in was a teeny, tiny little crappy cracker box.  Deegan slept in the once upon a time dining room.  I cried.  There was no room for another kid.  I thought maybe this was a nightmare.  But I realized there was a reason why God gave us Mazee when He did.  I don’t understand those reasons exactly, for I am only human, but I know my life is more amazing and wonderful for having her.  (Yes, now that she’s three there are days I’d trade her in J ) 

God has had his hand in all the good decisions I have made.  I have found that those decisions I have made without consulting or trusting Him have resulted in disaster and unhappiness.  Even when the initial decision or discovery is scary and crazy, if it is for Him then all will be okay.  God’s lessons to us are to remind us of who is in charge. 

Old Stuff, New Stuff & Prayer

I am fortunate to live in a beautiful part of the world, by a great little town, in an amazing house built by my hubby, filled with memories and enough junk to make 100 of me content.  My life is truly a blessing that I cannot take full credit for.

Part of me feels like I'm not the most prayerful person.  I don't regularly say my bedtime prayers, I miss Mass for no good reason on occassion, and my prayer book, Bible and rosary sit ideally wondering why it is they came to live at my house.  I keep promising them I will put the to good use one day.  My grandma assures me I will.  On my last visit to her house she made me realize how it's not always possible for a busy mom to get in memorized prayers or read the Bible.  But when I'm old like her (her words not mine) and don't have to chase after screaming kids, I can concentrate more on formal prayers.

That's all great for the future, but prayer is important now too, so how do I get it in?  My dad talks about how he thinks his mother was always praying.  Even though I didn't get to have any in-depth conversations with my grandma about prayer, I would have to agree with Dad.  She was a quiet woman who offered all she had to others. 

My house is filled with family treasures, gifts from friends, and the love our family shares.  I have endless chores to accomplish and kids to keep track of.  This is when I pray.  I pray when I use my pots and pans, because my grandparents gave them to us when we got married.  I pray for family friends when I see the tea pot sitting on the top of the cabinet and the old hutch sitting in the dining room.  I pray for the people who have graciously given my children cute outfits and those darn toys I trip over.  I pray for the really hard stuff and offer it up when I have to do things like scrub the floors on my hands and knees or clean the bathrooms.  I pray when I load the dishwasher for those who have to live without food.  I pray for my kids when I am frustrated with them.  These aren't long prayers, just quick little snipets.  It's not perfect, but it's working for me. 

See I have realized that all good things in my life have happened because I have let go and let God.  The blessings that have some my way are because I decided to listen to Him and let Him take control.  I am human.  I cannot make this happen for myself and truly be happy.     

What Not to Wear

TLC has a show called "What Not to Wear".  I have watched it a few times and was amused by the people they find to ambush into a "make-over".  What I have discovered after viewing a few recent pictures of myself, is that I am a perfect candidate for one such ambush.

My problem with clothes lies in not wanting to look good or lack of self confidence that I am worthy of nice clothing, my problem or problems are that I am cheap, the mother of three young kids, and I teach kindergarten and art.  On top of these issues I must add "I had a baby 4 months ago, I have no time to work out, and I need to be able to nurse discretely" to my list of 'excuses'.

Being cheap means finding things on clearance, sale, or at a second hand store.  This theory works very well for finding cute kid clothes, not so much with finding the mommy clothes.

I have three young kids at home and teach kindergarten.  My clothing is subject to spit-upy shoulders, boogers, paint, sticky hands wiped thigh high, dirty knees, sneezes, etc.  There's no point in investing in good clothes just to have them smeared with boogers by 9AM. 

I did leave out teaching art in the above paragraph intentionally because I'm hoping to only have to worry about plaster and paint, not boogers and spit-up!  But all the same I am not the neatest artist in the world.  Mess=creativity

Besides having to think about "school" clothes I don't think my hippy ways are appropriate for my brother's up coming wedding.  The challenge is to find something appropriate for which I can not only look spiffy, but nurse my little bambino as well.  They do make nursing shirts and nursing dresses, but my problem is they all make me look like a beached whale.  I'm sorry, but I did the beached whale look for 9 months.  It's called being pregnant.  But the good thing about my lack of being able to dress spiffy is I will not out shine the bride (she is a wonderful bride) come middle of September.

Accessories and shoes, I suppose make up too, round out a well planned outfit.  Accessories=toys for tots and if I wanted a broken neck I would've worn heals a long time ago,  Plus dress shoes can = uncomfy.  I'm not a fan of uncomfy!  Makeup, well I'm proud to say I've got great skin and don't plan on covering it up until I start being mistaken for wearing my Halloween mask year round.

I'm not sure anyone else appreciates my ponytail, tennis shoes, worn out look, but it sure is working for me.  I guess I must have missed the, "You're an adult with a professional job" day of kindergarten. 

I used to wonder...

When I was little I used to wonder why my mom didn't rip into a letter or package that came in the mail.  Or how she could wait to frost the cake or dive into the piping hot cookies.  Now that I'm a mother of three (well I realized this after the first one, but three puts it in perspective!) I realize she didn't wait, she was stinking busy! 

Daddy's gone to a meeting, and I have the baby in the tub tonight, my 3 year old hollering because she wants to get undressed but her shirt is stuck on her head, and my 5 year old is digging his school supplies out because he needs his scissors (and truth be told he's so excited about kindergarten he can't leave it all alone).  While this happens the phone rings....and rings.....and rings......  I'm not answering it because A) I have NO clue where the phone is (drat those cordless phones) and B) Grandma Baldwin's (family friend) rule is make the baby safe and do what you have to do.  Babies in bath tubs without supervision is not safe.  Babies in bath tubs with big sisters and no supervision, really not safe.  So the phone rings....and rings....and rings.....  Seriously leave a message if it's important.

Got to check for ticks.... 

Get girls out of the tub.  Deegan gets in.  Thank goodness by age 5 they don't need constant supervision.  I do have to make sure he's not washing the floor, and walls and ceiling with buckets of water while he's bathing.  Mazee's cold and crabbing about needing a bedtime snack.  Miri gets cold faster than Mazee and Mazee could dress herself.  Plus the chances of getting baby pee or poopies on me is pretty high if a diaper isn't secured quickly.  Miri wins this one.  And to top this all off, Miri is starving which means she's diving at me constantly making it harder to dress her. 

Girls are dressed.  Deegan pulls himself out of the tub.  Now he's freezing...get your jammies on.  You know how to do this yourself. 

Snacks, quick throw something at them.  Now run, run, run away!  No not run away, hook the baby up so she can finally make a successful dive and retreive needed nourishment. 

And that's just been the last hour.  The dishes are still stacked higher than Mount Everest, dirty clothes are laying on the bathroom floor along with the crumped towels and there's a good chance the bath tub is still supporting water.  Then why pray-tell should I choose this time to blog, well thanks for asking.  I just found this all rather amusing and realized that I must've missed the "you are the mommy of three kids, daddy's gone, and it's bedtime, what do you do now?" day of kindergarten. 

By the way:  the baby's sleeping and the big kids are being entertained by "Phineas and Ferb".  Sometimes a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.  

And Mom, you're AMAZING!!!  I hope you are now able to rip open those letters and packages a little more quickly than before! 

Kitchen Krazies

Sometime this summer I decided that our cuisine lacked pizzazz.  I decided to pick a cookbook a week and choose a recipe from it, somewhat randomly, find something new.  Since I love to cook and bake I saw this as a great challenge for the summer.  And it has been.

Today's challenge make cheddar crackers.  I didn't even know you could make such a thing until I saw it on the Cooking Channel. The kids love gold fish crackers so I knew we had to try these.  I looked up a recipe and whipped up the dough yesterday.  The kids and I got out our tiny animal, tractor, house shaped cookie cutters and set about to make these yummy treats. 

I had forgotten how much fun it is to bake with Deegan and Mazee.  Summer's not exactly the time of year we spend heating up the house with the oven.  They rolled out the dough with their little rolling pins and got cutting away, starting in the middle of their dough.  Then they started creating their own fun shapes.  All the time Miri spent giggling and banging her spoon and big cookie cutter on her high chair tray.

The first batch came out of the oven and luckily cooled quickly because none of us could wait to try them.  They were yummy indeed, and the first batch was gone in an instant.  Restraint had to kick in or they would all be gone! 

Cooking with my big kids is a wonderful treat, but I can't wait for Miri to be old enough to dig into the flour and make a mess with us!   

Check out the recipe at http://homecookinginmontana.blogspot.com/2010/02/cheddar-crackersreminiscent-of-goldfish.html 

Spit and *hit happen

One cannot believe the amount of bodily fluids being screted at my house this week.  Besides being "Old Faithful" when it comes to spitting (we're talking mass quanities after almost every nursing and for hours after eating!), my 4 1/2 month old daughter Miri has decided that blowing out the old diaper every couple of days might be fun.  Why can't she just poop every day like she used to?  Now she saves it up and blows out at least one diaper and outfit every couple of days.  This sometimes makes a mess on the floor but has managed to attack me recently.  As if smelling like sour milk wasn't appealing enough to my hubby I know can add poop to it.  Thank goodness she's a nursing baby so it's not as nasty as it could be!  But still gross!

But Miri isn't the only one who's decided to share her fluids.  My 3 year old Mazee has been so dog tired going to bed these days, she's been wetting the bed.  Now there are solutions to this such as making sure she potties as close to bedtime as possible, limiting fluids passed such and such a time or wearing a pull-up (like you can get this BIG girl to wear one!).  While these work, nothing prepared me for last nights pee extravaganza.  Around midnight I hear Mazee calling for me, however not from her bedroom but from the living room.  She had the garage door open and was calling for me to come in.  She must of been sleep walking.  When I asked her what was wrong and if she needed to potty she proceeded to pee on the floor.  I don't have to wash bedding today,  but I did have to wash the rug.

One might want to know why this must all be happening right now, well I'll tell you why, Murphy's Law.  Murphy gets in my way a lot.  See I am not what one would call a neat freak, but I do keep my house some what clean.  The problem lies in the fact that I just did a major scrubbing of the floors.  We're talking hands and knees, took me 2 hours, even threw the rugs in the washer cleaning.  Ergo we must now do everything possible to get the floor back to it's original dirt riddled condition. 

I should also include Deegan's recent pee story.  Can't leave him out.  I go outside to check on him and Mazee and the dog  brushes up against me.  She is wet.  "Deegan you're not supposed to be spraying the dog with your water gun."  I say in a firm motherly voice.  Deegan replys, "But Mom, I didn't!  I was trying to take a pee and she got in the way."  Thank goodness this mess happened outside!

Spit and shit, two great words.  Not only do they rhyme, but they happen often at this house!

Conversations with a 5 year old

My son Deegan, 5, has a wild imagination and wide range of vocabulary.  This is conversation is one of the tamer ones.

 

Deegan asks, "Mommy what does child mean?"

Me, "You're a child.  It means some one about your age until you're about 10 or 12."

Deegan, "Well okay, but I'd really like to get back to being a kid."

 

Later on...

Deegan, "Mommy do they put kids in jail?"

Me, "If they are really naughty."

Deegan, "Can parents go to jail?"

Me, "Yes and then their kids have to go live with a different family."

Deegan, "If Daddy gets tossed into jail, and you get tossed into jail, we're going to go live with Grandma and Grandpa Johnson."

Me, "Do you want this to happen?"

Deegan, "Maybe"

 

Nice child I have there!  :)

 

Who the heck am I? Better yet who are you?

Yes,  I am Crazy Mom.  I see myself as a hyper, go get 'em person who does occassionally run out of steam.  I multi task with the best of them and try to stay sane over all. 

Who am I besides Crazy Mom?  I am a 31 year old mother of three, farmers wife (who doesn't really do much in the way of farming), kindergarten/HS art teaching, wanna be running fool.  I can't spell and switch words around (which means I occassionally wonder around my house when I want to wander).  I try to keep things positive and look for the silver lining in it all.  Sarcasm oozes into much of my writing and thoughts.  In general I don't mean to be insulting.  Please don't take it as such.  

Do I have time to blog?  Heck no! I just got done with grad school and have no idea how else to spend my time :)  If I'm not sitting at a computer I don't know what to do with myself.  If I don't have time, why blog?  The other day I sent my mom and ridicilous conversation my 5 year old son and I had, and she asked if I was recording them for future leverage when he gets to be a teenager.  I haven't really had a place to keep them, but they're so dang funny I should share them as well as write them down.  Also my friend Alyssa told me that I should blog.  Apparently they way I view certain topics and explain things is funny.  I hope you readers agree.

I titled this "I missed that day of kindergarten" because I used to say, "I must've missed that day in kindergarten," when I didn't understand something or screwed something up.  Now that I teach kindergarten I realize how true that saying can be.