Happy to be Stuck With You

Marriage is a funny thing. You live day in, day out with someone, taking them for granted and magnifying all their quirky ways that drive you crazy....then they leave for a couple days, and you miss their quirky little ways. David is on his way to Atlanta as I type this, and I miss that kooky man already.

Oh, come on, keep reading. This isn't going to be a mushy post about the man God chose to stick me with. But he is what's on my mind today, so he's what my post is about.

I've mentioned before about being an eternal pessismist married to an eternal optimist. It just fits. Honestly, I don't see how 2 pessismists put together would ever get out of their mopey, sad, moods because neither one would feel like dragging the other one out. And 2 optimists put together just might make everyone else around them ill with their upbeat attitudes all the time. But we balance each other out. Rather, he balances me out.

When I'm upset about some awful injustice I've been dealt, he doesn't play into my "woe is me" attitude. He makes jokes about it until I start to laugh. He even said once, "If I can get you to laugh, that's how I know everything's ok". But he doesn't do so in an annoying way or by ignoring my hurt feelings altogether. He acknowledges that because of my super-sensitive-crazy personality, I'm become upset about something normal people wouldn't blink an eye about, then he makes me laugh about it.

A classic example of his quirky idea of a romantic sentiment was a note he left me at my dorm while we were dating. It simply said, I love you more than cheeseburgers. All the stress of my mile long list of assignments vanished when I read those 6 words.

We took the kids to Branson this past December and they were so excited that our hotel had a pool. I hastily stashed a few swimsuits for myself in the suitcase, including my maternity one, just in case I couldn't fit my big toe in any of my other ones. Luck was on my side that weekend, however, and I fit into a little tankini suit I had worn a few summmers ago (between babies). I pranced out of the bathroom struttin' my stuff exclaiming, "I stilllllll got it!" and was immediately brought back to reality by my loving husband who responded, "Just mooooooore of it!".

A few weeks ago I was going through one of my mini phases of feeling over-worked and under-appreciated. To top it all off, David seemingly hadn't heard a word I said the preceding couple of days because he kept asking me about things we had just discussed! After the 3rd such topic arose, I loudly announced to the household, "I'M INVISIBLE!!!!". To which David quickly shot back, "Cool! We're going to the BANK!!!".

Hurry home, dear...I need a good laugh.

Mommy's Little Helper

Reese is such a sweet little helper and is always coming up with creative ways to keep Tate entertained if I can't get to him right away or need to tackle some housework...

 

 

 

Daddy Daughter Time

Brand New Washable Markers with connected caps that can't get lost: $4.50

 

One wipie used to fix mistakes: $.03

 

Manly Rainbow Manicure: Priceless

 

Prince Charming

I asked Reese to please watch Tate for me while I put Drue down for a nap. And this is the state I found him in afterwards....

 

He still looks rather dashing. Not many men can pull off Snow White.

Now honey, before you have a heart attack, look at the bright side....at least it's a blue nightgown...that gives it at least an ounce of masculinity.

Enjoy the tunes....

Thank you Margo for introducing me to Playlist!

Oops...forgot some pics

Heading home again. (Proceed to post below this to see where we were heading home from).

 

Cuteness at the waterfall....

 

The Farm

Ahhhh....the Farm. We love the Farm. It's our free, close-to-home, kids-run-wild-and-tire-themselves-out, plus we-get-to-see-cool animals, outing from April-October each year. We made our first of many trips this morning.

Tate was udderly fascinated with his new little friend. (His friend doesn't look overly excited, however.)

 

The girls fed some little baby goats. How cheap am I? Reese remembered from last year to pick up all the dropped food off the ground, instead of having to pay a quarter for a tiny handful. Actually, it wasn't that I was cheap, I just always seemed to forget to grab a pocketful of quarters in my haste to get out of the house.

 

Fun with cowbells. Who knew?

 

Hmmmmm....I wonder if we could put real motors in these and I could have me some little lawn mowing buddies.

 

All name calling, hair pulling, and general sibling rivalry ceased for one special moment on the swing.

 

Little fluffy bunnies. Cute. But not as exciting as the huge red slide right next to them, evidently. We moved on rather quickly.

 

Hey, where's the Brita filter on this thing?

 

My little settlers.

 

Put in my Place by 2 Little Tots

This past week especially, the girls have each made keen observations on my behavior/conversation. Not only have they all been true observations, they have all made me stop. And think. And realize a little more how their little brains operate.

A few days ago I posted how David came home to an exceptionally clean house. During my cleaning frenzy, Reese casually walked in to our bedroom and said. "Mommy. Who's coming?".

"What?", I asked rather distractedly.

"Who's coming to our house today?".

"Nobody. What do you mean?".

"Well...you have a candle going and the house looks really nice."

We made a trip to the grocery store during one of our cold, wet days last week. As I was buckling them all into their carseats with water dripping off my nose I exclaimed, "What a yucky day!".

Reese said, "No it isn't Mommy."

"Sweetheart, it is a yucky, rainy day."

She repeated, "No it isn't. God planned for it to rain so the flowers could grow."

After we made it home, I grabbed Tate and as many plastic bags filled with groceries as I could and headed up the stairs after the girls. They helpfully mentioned that I had left the door leading into the house from the garage opened.

"Well," I breathlessly answered. "I can't close the door because I don't have any hands!".

Drue didn't even skip a beat and in a reassuring tone answered, "Yes you do. Yes you do have hands Mommy."

Where would I be without them?

Snowy Saturday

When your backyard looks like this in April...it can make for some very long days inside. Especially after having already enjoyed quite a few days in the 70s playing outside. During those warm days, we had our air conditioner serviced for the season. Turns out, it needed a new thingamajig so the guy has been out numerous times to try and get it working correctly. Glad we were so on top of that. Where would we be this week without it?!

 

We packed up the posse today and headed to the "Under the Sea" exhibit at Crown Center. Here are the boys headed through the seaweed

 

The girls riding a dolphin.

 

I guess Tate's a little young to really appreciate being this close to a million bazillion crayons. I'm sure he was just dissappointed that he couldn't break through the glass and eat them....

 

We finished up our day at the Rainforest restaurant. There is a certain age that Reese was where this place scared her to death. Unfortunately, we couldn't quite remember what age that was. Thankfully, it turned out not to be any of their current ages, as they all enjoyed it immensely, fake thunderstorms and all. And they were too in awe of watching the gorillas, elephants, and leopards come alive to act up. You gotta love a restaurant where the other people at the tables surrounding yours don't bat an eye at your 2 year old screaming, "GORILLA! DADDY! MOMMY! GORILLA!".

Lil' fishie #2

 

And here she is. Excited about her very first night of swimming lessons. Again, it feels strange putting on swimsuits in 40 degree weather, but so be it. Hopefully our real Spring weather is on its' way. (It also feels strange mowing the yard in 40 degree weather, but apparently, our stubborn grass is saying, "Hey, it's not our fault it has dipped back down to almost freezing temps. It's Spring! And I'm supposed to grow!").

We hadn't really planned on putting Drue in swimming lessons this early. But she saw me taking Reese every week and all it took was one bat of her long eyelashes and one innocent inquiry...."When do I get to go to swimming lessons?" to send me straight to our computer to sign her up.

Since she's only 2, a parent has to be in the pool with her. Neither David, nor I, were too excited about donning our swim garments this early in the season but we were both eager to be with her in the water. So far, I've been the one going with her. But I think we may trade off. I am way shy and introverted but have managed to join in with the other parents as we laugh about our kids getting a taste of the big pool. (Literally, one of them is always choking on inhaled water). So, I am going to put off letting David take her, because he's just a jolly guy, who can shoot the breeze with anyone, so I'm sure the first night he goes, he'll be the life of the class and come back having made friends with all the other parents. They will want him to come everytime and that will be all she wrote for lil' ol' me.

I'm really glad we decided to sign Drue up, because 1:1 time spent with each of our kids is few and far between. So far, she's learned to blow bubbles, jump in from the side of the pool, make small kicks, and move her little arms cupping her hands like ice cream scoops. Of course, we are doing all these movements to such songs as "Row, Row, Row Your Boat", "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star", "It's Raining, It's Pouring", etc.

There is a little girl in her class named "Kristen", which is kind of confusing to her, since that's her Mommy's name too. I will tell you this though....these swimming lessons are kicking my patootie. I am so tired when they're finished. I have been in bed a little after 8:30p both nights so far. It takes a lot out of a person to hold a squirming toddler in the water, arms and legs flailing about, for 30 minutes....it's true...try it sometime!

My "Mommy Strike" was Short-Lived

When David decided to grace us with his prescence after work today, he was greeted with smells of lilac, homemade fried chicken, foamy bathroom cleaner, vaccummed carpets, and pledge wipes. (I was hoping to add freshly showered wife to that list, but it just didn't happen.)

Last night, however, was a different story....

I went on "Mommy Strike". Well, that's not entirely accurate...I still took care of the children, so it was more like "Homemaker Strike". I arrived home from work late, due to some rain slicked roads (GO! PEOPLE! GO! IT'S NOT LIKE THERE'S 10 FEET OF SNOW ON THE HIGHWAY!) and had to make a mad dash to get myself, and Drue, ready to go to her first swimming lesson. (I'll post a story and pics tomorrow).

I rushed home from swimming, after picking Drue and I up some supper, just in time to miss my favorite American Idol's performance. I tried to gulp down my meal amidst squeals from the little ones, and Tate grabbing at whatever I was trying to stuff in my mouth. After Tate and Drue were finally in bed, I was exhausted. Actually, I was probably exhausted before they got in bed, but we moms seem to have this power that somehow keeps us going until they are asleep, then we crash like a ton of bricks.

The kitchen was a mess. Supposedly, Drue had spilled some milk in the fridge. (Per one of the "squeals" from Reese). Our bedroom was trashed (and had been for a few days). There were clothes everywhere. Clean. Dirty. I'm not even altogether sure. I feel unsettled when it's like that and I don't like sleeping there. So my plan was to drag myself up the stairs and give it a thorough cleaning.

Here came David and Reese to watch TV in the bed. Hmmm....ok....if they were upstairs, then who, pray tell, was downstairs cleaning up the spilled milk in the fridge?! Call me a camel, because that was the straw. Ouch.

I don't excuse my behavior following that incident, but I will go on to tell about it. I flipped out. I started on a rampage about how I was going to bed. I wasn't going to clean our room. I didn't care if it ever got clean. I didn't care if the milk in the fridge ever got wiped up. It could sour there and stink up the whole neighborhood. I didn't care if any of our clothes ever got washed again. Nobody else seems to care so WHY SHOULD I?!?!

I kissed Reese good night (see I told you it wasn't really a "Mommy Strike") and curled up under my wadded blankets on my unmade bed. It was 8:37pm. I had a headache.

Thankfully, my conscience did its' magic on me without disturbing my slumber. And when the kids woke me up around 7:15am, I was ready to face the day with all its' challenges, regardless of whom may, or may not, even notice.

MHMHDAVID! Excuse me...I had to clear my throat....

Pardon me? Come again?

What was supposed to be a leisurely morning in my pjs enjoying chocolate chip pancakes turned into a mad dash to get the kids dressed, in the van, and off to my work....which is about 20 minutes away. Apparently, the only other 2 gals who cover the dept during the week were both OUT today! I threw on a sweatshirt and jeans, popped my unwashed hair into 2 little ponytails and off we went.....

After showing the frantic gal who had called me the "ins and outs" of the dept in a nutshell while simultaneously trying to convince Tate not to dig around in the trash and trying to keep the girls supplied with enough printer paper to doodle on, we headed back home.

It was about noon by this time and since I had left my perfectly browned pancakes sitting untouched on the counter, I was getting hungry. We started towards McDonalds. I try to tune out a lot of the girls' bickering and put myself in a "happy place" while we drive around town. On occasion, however, I pick up snippits of their arguments. I was none too pleased with the snippit I heard today.

I caught the tale end of Reese talking meanly to Drue, "...Drue! You #@%^&!". (It sounded like "witch" so use your filthy little imaginations).

"REESE!! What did you call her?!" I asked sternly. (I know, I know, we're not supposed to make a big deal out of naughty words that come out of our children's mouths. We are supposed to calmly instruct them on what words are and are not appropriate to say. But I just couldn't help myself. This is not a word that either me, or my husband use....ever!)

"Nothing", was, of course, her reply.

"No--what did you call her?!" I asked again.

"Ummmm....I called her....a butterfly?".

"Reese!"

"I don't remember." she said, hoping that excuse would suffice.

"Oh, Ok. Well, I'll just hold on to your nuggets until you regain your little memory from the events which occurred a mere 5 seconds ago." Ha! Score 1 for ol' mom.

In the rearview mirror, I saw her little blond head hang in defeat.

"Mommy," she said quietly, "I do remember what I called Drue. I called her a....fish. I'm sorry Mommy."

Whew! Thank goodness. No additional stops to buy a bar of soap needed. Good thing, too, because I'm beat.

Happy Easter!

"...He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart..."
-Isaiah 40:11

 

We celebrate the resurrection of the true Lamb of God. Have a blessed Easter!

Analysis of an Easter Bunny Visit

 

These are my kids. Duh--you say. No, what I mean is....this picture exhibits each of their unique little personalities perfectly.

Reese: So shy and innocent once we leave the safe haven of our home, or bring someone new into our home.

Drue: We never really have a clue what she's crying about or what sets her off. Contrary to popular belief, she is not crying in this picture because she's scared of the lifesize furry creature upon whose lap she was plopped. Again, we're not really quite sure why she cries.

Tate: He always seems to have a look of confusion on his face as if to say, "Exactly what kind of crazy family was I born into?".

The poor girl snapping the pictures kept apologizing that she couldn't get a better shot. She even said, "You don't have to buy one."

"Are you kidding?!" I replied through my laughter. "This is exactly the kind of memory I will want to look back on someday."

And this is probably the same picture Drue will carry with her to show her therapist someday....

Parenting Tip #28

Having your couch professionally cleaned (for no small fee)ensures that within 4 days of said cleaning, it will be thrown up on. Twice. Yes, even if it is the first time in 6 years of owning the couch that you have gotten it cleaned. And, yes, even if it is the first time in the 4 years of owning children, one of them has ever had the stomach flu.