Wrong Number

**Before reading this post you have to scroll down to my music playlist and select song #52 which I added specifically for this story. (Ok you don't really have to...but it does go nicely with the theme.)

Reese came flying down the stairs this afternoon yelling, "Tate! 9-1-1! Tate! 9-1-1!".

Of course, I started flying up the stairs at that point not knowing what fate had befallen my youngest. My worry turned to embarrassment/panic when she continued, "Tate called 9-1-1!".

David found some of our old cell phones a few days prior, that he let the girls have to play around with. They don't have the sim cards in them, but they did still have batteries. They promptly decorated them with stickers and sharpies and carried on dozens of pretend conversations and sent dozens of pretend text messages.

Since they still were able to turn on, there was a button on the left of the screen that said "SOS", meaning if it was held down long enough, it could dial 9-1-1.

I said, "What?! Hang up!". I actually wasn't sure what to do. Drue had already hung it up and shoved the phone into my hands. "You guys are not allowed to play with these anymore!" I said.

Reese is going to be a panicker like me. Her eyes were wide and she said, "That's ok. I don't even want to play with them anymore. That scared me! My heart is really fluttering!".

I flipped the phone open and turned it completely off. I wasn't sure of the proper etiquette in this situation. Should I call back and apologize? I know they have a way of tracking cell phones now and I didn't want them to dispatch any emergency personnel to our house. I was starting to get nervous. I thought for a second we would all just leave the house for awhile and return in an hour or so.

I kept listening for sirens and looking out the window like an illegal drug deal had just gone down in my living room. Reese was very nervous as well. She was talking a mile a minute about what would happen if they came to the house, what would I say to them, would I make sure they knew that it wasn't her or Drue who called them? Then she stopped mid sentence and said, "I have to put a shirt on so they don't see me in my swimsuit."

Drue hadn't said much at this point. Tate was curled up on the floor of the girls' room with his blanket. Drue finally said, "Why would they come to our house?".

"Because they don't know whether or not there is a real emergency here." I explained.

"Well, I told them 'no'", she said.

"What?" I asked her.

Then she explained the rest of the story to me that I had been too crazed to stop and listen to before. "Someone answered the phone and said, '9-1-1...do you have an emergency?' so I said loud into the phone, 'NO' and took it from Tate and hung up."

That little tidbit of information made me feel a little more relieved. I was still afraid they had somehow traced our location and were on their way to scold me. But they never showed.

Too much excitement for one afternoon. Out came the cell phone batteries. They will just have to add their own sound effects for the beeping numbers and whatnot. I have no doubt one of them will pretend to be a 9-1-1 operator during their next phone game.

Checkups

Remind me the next time that I have to take all three kids in for their checkups to have the pediatrician slip me a script for some Valium.

Two fun-filled afternoons spent at the Peds office. Because they won't see them all in one visit. Like I have 10 kids or something. Really? They don't have an extra 30 seconds to throw Tate up on the scale? Here's an idea: I will trade them 10 minutes of my wait time in the tiny room of nothingness, for them to lift look into Tate's ears, nose, & throat.

I really like their doctor though, so it's all good.

I think this was the first visit in 4 years that I remembered beforehand that they would request a urine sample. Every other time I have dutifully made them potty before we left the house. So as they stand there hovering over the little plastic cup...we get nothin'. Zip. Zilch. Not even a drop. But this time we were prepared. Reese even said, "Mommy, this will be one time that you don't make us potty before we leave the house!". In toodled my very well hydrated little girls ready to pee their hearts out.

Once we got past the giggling, that is. All 4 of us crammed into the tiny bathroom and the giggling began. Somehow they were still able to do the deed. Tate was fascinated with the whole experience. Needless to say, it was much easier when his turn came around the next day. An expert aimer, that boy.

Drue is by far my best shot taker. Well, better than Reese anyway, who flailed about and hollered for her Kindergarten shots. I had already prepared Drue that she would be getting some shots. And that they would hurt at first, but would be over in a flash. Reese kept reinforcing that fact that Drue would be getting a shot, but not her. I couldn't remember if there was one I was forgetting about for Reese so I tried to prepare her as well, just in case.

She didn't end up needing any, so I plopped Drue up on the table. The nurse said nonchalantly, "Ok, first I'm going to prick your finger....".

Oops. Totally forgot about that test. Hadn't prepared her or me. Huge tears spilled down her cheek and I couldn't do anything to stop it. The nurse just kept squeezing out more blood. I thought I was over crying when my kids got shots. Not so. If they are crying, I'll be crying...or at least tearing up.

It was fun to see how much the girls have grown. Drue continues to be 100% for height. Reese was 75%. Which she thought meant she wasn't as good as Drue.

I herded them all out, turned in my forms at the check out desk, retrieved some oversized stickers for the girls and we went on our merry way. We got into the elevator to go back down and Drue was still teary eyed so I was trying to console her some more. Reese pressed the button and as the doors closed, I happened to look up and catch a glimpse of Tate, on the other side of the doors! Of course I panicked. In our elevator at work there is an "open" button that will simply open the door back up instantly. My hands flew over the button choices but I didn't see that option there. I quickly pushed "2" because we were on the 2nd floor and the door slowly creaked back open to reveal my sweet little boy, whom I gently grabbed and pulled to safety.

When we finally made it home, there was a message on our answering machine. It was the pediatrician's office calling...reminding us of Tate's appt the next day. I laughed at the time the call came through. We had been sitting right in their lobby when they called.

Tate's visit went much more smoothly. I was relieved to find out he wasn't as skinny as we thought. I had to fill out his little milestone sheet, which involved me having to ask him to jump on one foot, or tell me which line was longer, etc. After he answered each question he would say, "Yes! I'm good at this!". One of the questions was, "What do you do if you are hungry?". He said, "Ask Mommy, may I please have something to eat?".

He got his 2nd chicken pox shot. And he did great! He kind of whimpered, but that was really it. The entire way home he kept saying, "Mommy, I didn't even know it wasn't going to hurt. Mommy, I didn't even know I wasn't going to cry." He was so proud of himself. As we walked in the door, he promptly stepped on a sewing needle in the carpet. Irony stinks. He wailed.

Playing Makeup

Drue has arrived.

To the stage where she is "all about the make-up". Playing make-up, that is.

She loves getting out my make-up basket and trying out everything. When she is allowed to pick out something to buy at the store, she always gravitates toward the lip glosses. She even passed up the baby doll section of the $1 store the other day and went straight to the eye shadows.

No, she is not allowed to wear the make-up out of the house. Let's just clear that subject up right now. Only clear lip gloss with sparkles.

I told Drue that if she got a hit at her softball game tonight we could play make-up. She got a hit. One hit. And it was a foul ball. But she was so excited after the game and reminded me, "Mommy, I got a hit. Does that count for playing make-up?". I hadn't really specified that it had to be a fair ball.

Reese wanted to join in with us this time. They put on lip gloss and eye shadow mainly. We bypassed the masacara this time. It's too hard to get off their lashes, especially Reese's white lashes. After we finished I sent them downstairs for David to ooh and ahh over.

Both girls look forward to the day they can finally wear make-up for real. But I think I may have cured Reese of that longing altogether. After she came back upstairs from showing David I said, "Awwww....you look just like Daddy would look if we wore make-up."

"Ok...", she declared, "I am never wearing makeup ever when I grow up."

Happy 4th of July

 

 

 

 

Father's Day Surprise

When David told me he was headed to St. Louis in June my first thought was, "I know what I am going to do for him for Father's Day!". I excitedly mapped out my master plan to give the garage an extreme makeover while he was gone. There was a minor kink in my plans when I discovered that his trip would be the week after Father's Day. I decided to go ahead with the makeover and simply wrote in his card, "Your present will be ready when you get back from St. Louis."

David appreciates a neat garage. It's his domain. Where he keeps all his tools and manly things and where his workbench is. Unfortunately the workbench has been piled under junk for awhile now. When the basement flooded in the winter of '09 we quickly threw everything we could salvage into the garage. It's never really been the same since. There was an old computer, my desk, a toy box, etc that decided to settle in nicely and never return to the basement. We had 3 old car seats and a dilapidated double stroller all stacked up in one corner.

So I got to work. To be fair, we got to work. The kids were excited to surprise Daddy and were eager to help. Of course, I didn't tell them about the surprise until after he left to avoid any innocent slip ups. The girls helped sweep the floor and all of them took little loads of stuff down to store in the basement. I even enlisted Reese to help me scoot my desk across the garage over to the door. Reese sweetly filled up 4 water bottles all on her own for us when it got so hot.

It was funny to see the kids' different reactions towards the cleaning project. Reese was really supportive and kept saying, "This looks really good Mom! Daddy is going to be so surprised! It just looks so much better!".

Drue kept coming in to survey the progress and saying, "I don't think you're going to get it done before Daddy gets back..."

And Tate didn't really have any words of encouragement/discouragement. His main concern was when he would be able to ride his big wheel in the garage.

Before

 

After

 

It took a little longer than I'd anticipated. And I was a bit disapointed because in my head the finished project was supposed to look like something straight off HGTV. I even picked out a nice light shade of gray paint to spruce up the walls with. The unopened can is still sitting in the garage. I never got around to painting. I didn't beat myself up too much because I realize the HGTV shows have a whole crew helping them and they don't have 3 little ones to keep track of and feed and take to the pool and feed again.

Before

 

After

 

David was surprised when he pulled in tonight. He thought he was at the wrong house. The garage and I have now bonded. I know where stuff is and I don't trip over things on my way into the house. I am going to think twice before I clean out the van and toss a trash bag full of toys, clothes, cups, etc into the garage to sit indefinitely. Before I didn't really care much about it. But now I am invested. And I want to keep it tidy. A similar feeling I get after I just finish cleaning the kitchen only to go in 5 minutes later to find a dirty dish in the sink and cereal spilled all over the counter. Drives. Me. Batty.

And, yes, our garage floor is even clean enough to eat off of. At least Tate thought so...as he swiftly picked up his cereal and shoved it in his mouth after a few bites had fallen out of his cup.

Lessons Learned

So David and I were watching a show last night and a little girl was in her driveway playing with her skateboard. It started rolling down the driveway into the street and she ran after it. The next scene showed a pick up truck cruising down the street towards her. I almost had to turn it off right then and there. But the mom saw what was happening and ran out and grabbed the little girl.

Whew.

But, of course, it got me thinking. We don't let the kids play out front by themselves. We are always there. But one day we won't be right there. So I got to worrying about it. Obviously.

And that would just be such a split second thing to happen that their first response would be to run after whatever was rolling towards the street.

The kids and I walked down to a friends' house this morning to play. While we were walking past all the driveways I decided to throw in a lesson about not running after anything that goes into the street. I kept reinforcing my point so it would be sure and sink in.

"So, like, if you're playing with a ball and it bounces into the street, should you run to get it?"

"Noooooo", they said in unison.

"Right. Just stop where you are and come tell a grown up".

I continued on using various examples of things that may roll into the street. "Even if it's something big, like your bike, just let it roll into the street and come tell a grown up. Mommy and Daddy won't be upset with you. We will be very happy that you're safe and came and told us".

I wrapped up with, "So no matter what it is that rolls toward the street, just let it go ok? Nothing is that important to risk being hurt to chase after."

Reese and Tate nodded, but Drue piped up, "But Mom...what about that time that Tate was in the stroller and it started rolling toward the street?".

Boys & Girls

I continue to get a kick out of noticing the differences between my girls and my boy. This year they wanted to make presents for David for Father's Day. Tate was excited about his little wooden birdhouse.

He got right to work on it. He slapped a few strokes of white paint on and said, "Look Mommy!".

"Good job Buddy!", I encouraged, secretly hoping he was going to put a bit more effort into his creation.

I needn't have feared. He swirled his little brush in his cup of water (which thankfully he didn't end up drinking) and picked another color. After a bit he sat back to admire his work. I love watching how excited the kids get making things for others.

I set it out on the deck to dry. The girls each peeked out the window to look at it and both said, "Wow! He actually did a good job!".

Now, here is the difference between my little females and my little male: The girls enjoy wrapping up their gifts just as much as they do making them or picking them out. They lay out their little paper, scissors, and tape and go to town.

Tate went out to the deck to retrieve his dried birdhouse. He plopped it up on the table, grabbed a roll of paper from the hall closet and said, "Here ya go Mom...wrap it up!" and went on his merry way.