"I haven't blogged in a really long time."
"I was thinking that, but I didn't want to say anything."
"I just don't know what to blog about."
"Potatoes."
"Blog about potatoes?"
"Yeah. Our kids seem to like them; they made a lot of jokes about them."
[Side note: the kids had been exchanging "jokes" with Daddy for the duration of dinner this evening.]
"Like what?"
"Knock. Knock."
"Who's there?"
"Potato."
"Potato who?"
"Knock. Knock."
[I was now beginning to expect an "Orange you glad I didn't say 'potato'?" ending to this saga of a joke.]
" . . . I'm not doing this. . . . sigh . . . Who's there?"
"Echo potato!"
"Echo potato who?"
"I don't know, that was Emmett's joke."
This is probably a "you had to be there" kind of moment, but the image of my two-year-old spouting out this clever joke he made up amid Daddy's knee-slappers pretty much sent me over the edge of tired hysteria this evening. Man I love my kids (and their Daddy, too).
1,000 Gifts:
1002. Leaves of varying colors
1003. Bubbles blown in the sunshine
1004. Tiny hands trying to catch said bubbles
1005. Cries of "Yay!" coming from their room (and for who knows what reason)
1006. Dinner-time comedy
1007. A whole weekend of just me and the kids - and enjoying every minute of it
1008. A Slumber Party
1009. Bantering with my husband
Showing posts with label Philip. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Philip. Show all posts
07 November 2012
02 October 2012
Of Dating my Mate
Like most wives, I'm a big fan of date night, but, like most young couples, we're lucky to scrape together enough money to go out, let alone the sitter that goes with it - which means we're generally left to either mooch time off our friends and family (when available) or being content with Netflix and home-popped corn. It's not bad, of course, but for some reason it never occurred to me that dating my spouse at home could actually be spontaneous, fun and creative. I mean, really, we spend all our time at home - what else could we possibly find to do here?
Then I discovered (via Pinterest, of course), an amazing blog entirely devoted to creative date ideas. I was in love. And when I saw a date idea based completely on silly science experiments, I knew that was the kind of experience my husband needed. Acting like a kid while watching crazy scientific reactions? Well, that's just the kind of nerds we are.
And instead of just looking at it and thinking, "That's such a cute idea. That would be fun to do someday," I thought, "We're going to do that and we're doing it now." - Ok, so there may have been a little more delay in my putting the date on my mental calendar, but the fact that I moved out of the thought phase and into action is a big step for me.
After a little research, both on the initiating blog and on Pinterest, I had my experiments chosen and I was ready for fun!
So, on Friday morning, I printed the invitation (bonus: my computer accidentally printed it in black and white, so when I re-traced it in marker to add flair, my man totally thought I drew it all by hand - yeah, that's right, honey).
As the kids napped, I gathered all the supplies for our chosen experiments and put them in fun gift bags - because everything is more exciting when you get to unwrap it. I left it all on the counter to taunt him until the kids wene to bed. The goggles may not have been necessary, but they kept him guessing.
For dinner, we had Mexican Chicken Stuffed Bell Peppers - which looked kind of like little explosions. This may or may not have been entirely a coincidence, but it worked out nicely.
After we tucked all the little ones in, it was time for some one-on-one fun! I first did the trick of serving him water from the tap that changed colors in his glass. Philip was concerned he'd be able to taste the food coloring - he has overly sensitive taste buds (slightly rolling my eyes).
Then he began to open up his surprises . . .
First up, a Mentos and Coke explosion. Only lame me didn't read the directions fully before going to the store and didn't notice the emphasis on Diet Coke - the experiment was much more sad than exciting. Good news? I couldn't find just a single sleeve of Mentos, so we have plenty more to try again next time.
The next experiment fared a little better - creating a lava-lamp-like reaction with oil, water and salt. This one was rather fascinating.
The third "experiment" was creating secret messages out of lemon juice. Again, lame me forgot to get real lemons - note to self: lemon juice in a bottle is NOT the same thing.
While we waited for that to dry, we moved on to creating soap foam in the microwave. I was so excited about this one and glad we saved it until last.
Look what Ivory soap does in the microwave! The fun part? You can still use it as soap! Coolest ever.
We were still waiting for the lemon juice to dry, so we played Mario Party, as Toad and Toadette (because they match and we're cool like that), because we had just discovered that evening that you can do a two-player duel on Mario Party - it's not like we've owned the game for five years or anything.
And, finally, we revealed our messages - or tried to. But after using both the iron and Philip's super-hot painting lamp, we could only see half the messages, at best. But I got a really neat photo out of it, so I count it as a win.
Micaiah did, too.
Plus, she got to paint her own face.
And Emmett made new friends.
Then I discovered (via Pinterest, of course), an amazing blog entirely devoted to creative date ideas. I was in love. And when I saw a date idea based completely on silly science experiments, I knew that was the kind of experience my husband needed. Acting like a kid while watching crazy scientific reactions? Well, that's just the kind of nerds we are.
And instead of just looking at it and thinking, "That's such a cute idea. That would be fun to do someday," I thought, "We're going to do that and we're doing it now." - Ok, so there may have been a little more delay in my putting the date on my mental calendar, but the fact that I moved out of the thought phase and into action is a big step for me.
After a little research, both on the initiating blog and on Pinterest, I had my experiments chosen and I was ready for fun!
So, on Friday morning, I printed the invitation (bonus: my computer accidentally printed it in black and white, so when I re-traced it in marker to add flair, my man totally thought I drew it all by hand - yeah, that's right, honey).
Then, the kids and I went on a Wal-Mart run for supplies and left this in Philip's car at work as a surprise for him to find when he came home for lunch. The Reese's Pieces may have had nothing to do with our date, but I knew they would make him beyond happy. And I don't know where to find beakers, but I felt this vase looked "science-y". He was intrigued and a little confused (and, yes, happy, because he had candy).
And since we were in the surprising mood, we stopped by Aunt Dia's office to brighten her day (which was entirely Micaiah's idea as we passed the flowers in Wal-Mart and she declared, "I want to get flowers for Dia!" She insisted on the pumpkin, too - which Emmett is thinking is a little heavy in this photo).
For dinner, we had Mexican Chicken Stuffed Bell Peppers - which looked kind of like little explosions. This may or may not have been entirely a coincidence, but it worked out nicely.
After we tucked all the little ones in, it was time for some one-on-one fun! I first did the trick of serving him water from the tap that changed colors in his glass. Philip was concerned he'd be able to taste the food coloring - he has overly sensitive taste buds (slightly rolling my eyes).
Before we moved on, we had to put on our safety gear just in case (okay, really just because we had them and, when you have safety goggles, why not wear them?!).
Then he began to open up his surprises . . .
First up, a Mentos and Coke explosion. Only lame me didn't read the directions fully before going to the store and didn't notice the emphasis on Diet Coke - the experiment was much more sad than exciting. Good news? I couldn't find just a single sleeve of Mentos, so we have plenty more to try again next time.
The next experiment fared a little better - creating a lava-lamp-like reaction with oil, water and salt. This one was rather fascinating.
The third "experiment" was creating secret messages out of lemon juice. Again, lame me forgot to get real lemons - note to self: lemon juice in a bottle is NOT the same thing.
While we waited for that to dry, we moved on to creating soap foam in the microwave. I was so excited about this one and glad we saved it until last.
Look what Ivory soap does in the microwave! The fun part? You can still use it as soap! Coolest ever.
We were still waiting for the lemon juice to dry, so we played Mario Party, as Toad and Toadette (because they match and we're cool like that), because we had just discovered that evening that you can do a two-player duel on Mario Party - it's not like we've owned the game for five years or anything.
And, finally, we revealed our messages - or tried to. But after using both the iron and Philip's super-hot painting lamp, we could only see half the messages, at best. But I got a really neat photo out of it, so I count it as a win.
Shopping list for next time: Diet Coke and real lemons.
The next day, we continued the theme by taking the whole family to the Oklahoma City Science Museum for Smithsonian's Free Museum Day (it's kind of our annual tradition). There, Joseph loved the Science Live show.
Micaiah did, too.
Plus, she got to paint her own face.
And Emmett made new friends.
And we topped it all off with Chick-Fil-A for lunch, Toys R' Us (to use Micaiah's birthday coupon), Krispy Kreme donuts (hey, when you made the drive to Oklahoma City, you're going to make the most of it) and video games at home - I'd say we all had a fantastic weekend.
Let's do this again, sometime, shall we?
08 August 2012
Of My Undeserved Love
Yesterday morning, after staying up too late, yet again - an ongoing theme during these days of Olympic prime-time airing until 11pm and my inability to get ready before they're over - I was caught in a dream as my husband, who had been up for an hour or so already, preparing for work, woke me by whispering our youngest was ready to eat. So, he brought me the baby and while I was done feeding him, my husband came back in, took the little guy back, changed his diaper and laid him back down.
Then, he came in our room to fix the toilet, yet again, because it was running, yet again. And while I stood next to him, feeling guilty for still being so groggy after clearly having slept longer than he and still knowing I would be able to sleep even after he was gone, he was putting his hand to my back, guiding me back to the bed, tucking me in and kissing me good-bye before he left to work hard on my behalf.
I am so blessed.
Daily I get more sleep than this man. And he never holds it over my head. Not even on the occasional Saturday morning when I gripe that he's sleeping until 11 and I just want one morning of not having to prepare breakfast for our little ones the minute I get up. Not even on the rare day when I debate napping - on those days he tells me, always, that I should.
Would I do the same?
Doubtful. In me dwells bitterness. I have my days when I recognize how much better my job is than his. But I also have the days when I gripe and whine and detail for him every minute of my crazy child-filled day, begging for pity, begging for a break.
So when it comes to sleep, I know if I were him I'd be rolling my eyes every time that wife of mine, the one who woke up at nine that morning, the one who kept us both up until midnight, mentioned being tired.
Grateful every day for a man I don't deserve. The one who loves me better than I know to love him and cares for me with the greatest tenderness and lack of selfish motivation.
He is truly my greatest blessing.
1,000 Gifts:
734. Female camaraderie
735. Road trips
736. A knowing smile
737. Sharing stories of God's goodness
Photo of the Day:
As we were preparing for lunch this afternoon, the two big kids in their chairs and Little Man playing on the floor we suddenly heard the tinkling of piano keys. And there he was, sitting at the piano, loving it as he plunked his hands on the keys. He sure does like his music.
For those of you interested in how we're doing during our Whole 30, I'll be including a daily update. For those of you not interested, you have my permission to check out now.
Whole 30 - Day One:
Breakfast - Eggs, scrambled with Coconut Oil, and a Nectarine
Lunch - Romaine and Spinach topped with Cherry Tomatoes and Shredded Chicken (sprinkled with Chipotle Rub before cooking) and drizzled with Olive Oil and Balsamic Vinegar
Dinner - Mexi Salad (substituted Chicken for Beef because it's what we had)
Evening Snack - Mixed Nuts
Worst Moment of the Day: Longing for chocolate. Any chocolate.
Best Moment of the Day: Licking my guacamole fork knowing I just made something amazing and it's good for us! Healthy eating does not equal bland eating.
Then, he came in our room to fix the toilet, yet again, because it was running, yet again. And while I stood next to him, feeling guilty for still being so groggy after clearly having slept longer than he and still knowing I would be able to sleep even after he was gone, he was putting his hand to my back, guiding me back to the bed, tucking me in and kissing me good-bye before he left to work hard on my behalf.
I am so blessed.
Daily I get more sleep than this man. And he never holds it over my head. Not even on the occasional Saturday morning when I gripe that he's sleeping until 11 and I just want one morning of not having to prepare breakfast for our little ones the minute I get up. Not even on the rare day when I debate napping - on those days he tells me, always, that I should.
Would I do the same?
Doubtful. In me dwells bitterness. I have my days when I recognize how much better my job is than his. But I also have the days when I gripe and whine and detail for him every minute of my crazy child-filled day, begging for pity, begging for a break.
So when it comes to sleep, I know if I were him I'd be rolling my eyes every time that wife of mine, the one who woke up at nine that morning, the one who kept us both up until midnight, mentioned being tired.
Grateful every day for a man I don't deserve. The one who loves me better than I know to love him and cares for me with the greatest tenderness and lack of selfish motivation.
He is truly my greatest blessing.
1,000 Gifts:
734. Female camaraderie
735. Road trips
736. A knowing smile
737. Sharing stories of God's goodness
Photo of the Day:
As we were preparing for lunch this afternoon, the two big kids in their chairs and Little Man playing on the floor we suddenly heard the tinkling of piano keys. And there he was, sitting at the piano, loving it as he plunked his hands on the keys. He sure does like his music.
For those of you interested in how we're doing during our Whole 30, I'll be including a daily update. For those of you not interested, you have my permission to check out now.
Whole 30 - Day One:
Breakfast - Eggs, scrambled with Coconut Oil, and a Nectarine
Lunch - Romaine and Spinach topped with Cherry Tomatoes and Shredded Chicken (sprinkled with Chipotle Rub before cooking) and drizzled with Olive Oil and Balsamic Vinegar
Dinner - Mexi Salad (substituted Chicken for Beef because it's what we had)
Evening Snack - Mixed Nuts
Worst Moment of the Day: Longing for chocolate. Any chocolate.
Best Moment of the Day: Licking my guacamole fork knowing I just made something amazing and it's good for us! Healthy eating does not equal bland eating.
06 May 2012
Of His Faithfulness
The music of Sunday mornings is my re-fueling time, it feels. To have those weekly moments of standing among a chorus of the saints - those fellow believers traveling alongside on this narrow road - as a harmony of voices worships my God with me - I simply feel as though I have been carried to His very throne, standing dirty and unworthy, but so loved.
It was in these moments this morning that God just continued to rip me open, breaking up further fallow ground - pointing out areas of residual bitterness and unforgiveness - unforgiveness that has been festering for years, decades even - and disobedience. I didn't know he could cover so many topics in one twenty-minute span, but our God is the God of the impossible. And suddenly I was broken.
But the theme that just kept echoing in my head was, "He is faithful." There are so many points in my life that I would once have considered hindrances to my walk, which He has completely turned around. Our God is faithful.
People on whom I might have given up have been changed. Relationships I might have considered lost have been restored. Bitterness erased. Forgiveness opened. Our God is Faithful.
One area of my life God has been working lately has been on my submission to my husband. To continue to work this point, I attended a short seminar at a conference our women's ministry hosted yesterday morning. The title of the seminar was, "There is Nothing Weak about Submission" - this title is so accurate as it takes a courageous woman to submit to another's will - to truly trust another to determine and protect one's best interests takes strength and humility.
At the end of our brief session, the dear friend who acted as instructor encouraged the handful of us in the room to remember: we get the easy part. We have simply been called to respect and submit - that's all.
Our husbands, however, have been commanded to love us, their brides, as Christ loved the church - unconditionally and sacrificially. Every moment of every day. To love in such a way is not easy. And yet, this is their charge. To love like Christ.
So, this morning, as I stood beside this man who has sworn to love me in such a way, I recalled how whiny and bitter I had been that very morning about our assignment to work in the church nursery, rather than attend Sunday School with our friends. I'll admit, we both hate these days (another point God was working on, but that's beside the point at the moment).
But as I complained, once more, my husband insisted, "You go to Sunday School; I'll go to the nursery by myself." And he was serious. Now, I, honestly, was not going to leave him alone in a room of toddlers, but the fact that he offered - the fact that he continually offers to do the unpleasant because he knows I don't want to. That's sacrifice. Daily. Daily he takes over what I have considered overwhelming, sacrificing his own wants and needs for rest, down-time, or even his own to-do list.
He is constantly sacrificing for me - even on the days when I have no right to complain.
Loving me the way the church is loved.
Loving me in a way I do not deserve and had even failed to notice most days.
To bless me with such a man - our God is faithful.
It was in these moments this morning that God just continued to rip me open, breaking up further fallow ground - pointing out areas of residual bitterness and unforgiveness - unforgiveness that has been festering for years, decades even - and disobedience. I didn't know he could cover so many topics in one twenty-minute span, but our God is the God of the impossible. And suddenly I was broken.
But the theme that just kept echoing in my head was, "He is faithful." There are so many points in my life that I would once have considered hindrances to my walk, which He has completely turned around. Our God is faithful.
People on whom I might have given up have been changed. Relationships I might have considered lost have been restored. Bitterness erased. Forgiveness opened. Our God is Faithful.
One area of my life God has been working lately has been on my submission to my husband. To continue to work this point, I attended a short seminar at a conference our women's ministry hosted yesterday morning. The title of the seminar was, "There is Nothing Weak about Submission" - this title is so accurate as it takes a courageous woman to submit to another's will - to truly trust another to determine and protect one's best interests takes strength and humility.
At the end of our brief session, the dear friend who acted as instructor encouraged the handful of us in the room to remember: we get the easy part. We have simply been called to respect and submit - that's all.
Our husbands, however, have been commanded to love us, their brides, as Christ loved the church - unconditionally and sacrificially. Every moment of every day. To love in such a way is not easy. And yet, this is their charge. To love like Christ.
So, this morning, as I stood beside this man who has sworn to love me in such a way, I recalled how whiny and bitter I had been that very morning about our assignment to work in the church nursery, rather than attend Sunday School with our friends. I'll admit, we both hate these days (another point God was working on, but that's beside the point at the moment).
But as I complained, once more, my husband insisted, "You go to Sunday School; I'll go to the nursery by myself." And he was serious. Now, I, honestly, was not going to leave him alone in a room of toddlers, but the fact that he offered - the fact that he continually offers to do the unpleasant because he knows I don't want to. That's sacrifice. Daily. Daily he takes over what I have considered overwhelming, sacrificing his own wants and needs for rest, down-time, or even his own to-do list.
He is constantly sacrificing for me - even on the days when I have no right to complain.
Loving me the way the church is loved.
Loving me in a way I do not deserve and had even failed to notice most days.
To bless me with such a man - our God is faithful.
20 April 2012
Of Bread
As referenced previously, I have recently undertaken the task of being my family's sole bread provider. And when I say that, I mean it literally - as in I'm the only one making bread for our family, not some factory somewhere (which has given a whole new appreciation for the invention of sliced bread, though I'm still good with slicing our own when I know what's been put in it).
My first accomplishment in regular bread making was a honey-wheat loaf with which my husband fell in love instantly - touting the wonders of this fresh bread straight from the warmth of our own oven. He could eat it every day, he said, and he especially loved the idea of making sandwiches with his new wheat friend. Yes, he was definitely infatuated with this bread.
But then . . .
After partaking of the deliciousness of some home-made Italian bread from church friends, I discovered my own recipe. I had never before considered the possibility of creating Italian bread in my very own kitchen. And it turns out the affection my man had for that wheat bread was nothing but pure puppy love. His feelings for the Italian variety? These run deep.
Suddenly old wheat is nothing to him, tossed aside for a younger, sleeker model. When I recently mentioned I'd be making more bread, he eagerly asked which kind. I noted we needed more for sandwiches, so I'd be making the wheat. To which he replied, "Well, I like sandwiches on the other, too."
Yep, wheat might as well be chopped liver.
In noting my disdain at his so easily tossing aside what had previously been like heaven-on-earth for him, his response was, "You're lucky I haven't met any Italian girls."
And when, during our date this evening, he partook in the soft, fluffy variety of bread at a local Italian restaurant, he mentioned it was a good thing I didn't have a recipe for that or he might be just as fickle toward his newer passion.
What I'm really thinking is I'm lucky I'm not a loaf bread.
1,000 Gifts:
384. The thrill of the hunt.
385. Date night with my man.
386. Bed-time stories with my boys.
387. Friendship re-kindled.
388. A stranger who chooses to be gracious and forgiving rather than bitter and hostile.
389. Overwhelming options (especially when it comes to dessert).
My Life: My Breakfast
Special K (Fruit & Yogurt variety) and scrambled eggs - the breakfast of champions (or stay-at-home moms).
My first accomplishment in regular bread making was a honey-wheat loaf with which my husband fell in love instantly - touting the wonders of this fresh bread straight from the warmth of our own oven. He could eat it every day, he said, and he especially loved the idea of making sandwiches with his new wheat friend. Yes, he was definitely infatuated with this bread.
But then . . .
After partaking of the deliciousness of some home-made Italian bread from church friends, I discovered my own recipe. I had never before considered the possibility of creating Italian bread in my very own kitchen. And it turns out the affection my man had for that wheat bread was nothing but pure puppy love. His feelings for the Italian variety? These run deep.
Suddenly old wheat is nothing to him, tossed aside for a younger, sleeker model. When I recently mentioned I'd be making more bread, he eagerly asked which kind. I noted we needed more for sandwiches, so I'd be making the wheat. To which he replied, "Well, I like sandwiches on the other, too."
Yep, wheat might as well be chopped liver.
In noting my disdain at his so easily tossing aside what had previously been like heaven-on-earth for him, his response was, "You're lucky I haven't met any Italian girls."
And when, during our date this evening, he partook in the soft, fluffy variety of bread at a local Italian restaurant, he mentioned it was a good thing I didn't have a recipe for that or he might be just as fickle toward his newer passion.
What I'm really thinking is I'm lucky I'm not a loaf bread.
1,000 Gifts:
384. The thrill of the hunt.
388. A stranger who chooses to be gracious and forgiving rather than bitter and hostile.
389. Overwhelming options (especially when it comes to dessert).
My Life: My Breakfast
Special K (Fruit & Yogurt variety) and scrambled eggs - the breakfast of champions (or stay-at-home moms).
24 March 2012
Of My Life as a Single Mom
As my man has left me for the day to go gallivanting around the fine metropolis that is Tulsa, commandeering my computer while he is away, I am left to fend for myself leaving you a photo-less play-by-play of the day (save the two images snapped on my phone and sent to Facebook - as I've found e-mailing to be the most inefficient means to sharing those pictures - well, unless four days is considered efficient) - but, just now, I'm posting and then, tomorrow, you'll get a re-cap via photograph. Isn't that exciting for you? Living my ordinary day twice in a row?
So, here it is . . . My Day as a Single Mom
8:30am: I wake up to Emmett crying. Not through the monitor, because I had kind of turned that down about a half hour ago. I wait for him to stop - sometimes Micaiah isn't so nice when they're playing alone in their room and she causes him to fuss before he quickly gets over it. He is not quickly getting over it this time. So, I enter the room to find Emmett distressed because he "Bump"ed - meaning he fell - off of his sister's dresser - the same one he gets a spanking for playing on every day. I explain, this is why we don't get on the dresser. To his way-too-tired-because-he-woke-up-too-early-before-climbing-on-the-dresser toddler mind, this teachable moment was entirely lost. Then I put a Toy Story VHS into the mini-TV/VCR in the corner of their room, the one that has only been used in this house about twice, tell them to sit in Micaiah's bed and leave to go back to sleep. Yes, I did. Only I had been out of my room for long enough that Joey noticed (seriously, he can sleep for a couple hours when I'm next to him, but always seems to wake up within minutes of my leaving - he always just knows), so that he was no longer happy. And after making him happy, I was no longer tired.
9:00am: I shower.
9:20am: Before rescuing the children from their Disney baby-sitter, I head to place my mug (I've mentioned it follows me everywhere) and cell phone in the living room - a daily ritual. It is there I discover the two baskets of laundry which have been migrating around the house, unfolded, all week have been folded by my man before he left the house at an hour earlier than that at which he typically leaves for work. (This is where I deviate from a single mom who, sadly, does not have a laundry fairy loitering about.) I love that man.
9:40am: We're eating breakfast to the tune of Toy Story, which is now playing in the living room because I just can't make them walk away from Buzz. I then decide we will venture out for errands. With all three kids. By myself. Only, I plan to cheat - there's no way I'm actually getting all of them out of the car. We're doing quick, in-and-out stops wherein I never let the car out of my sight. I'm plugging in a DVD, keeping the key in the ignition and the remote lock in my pocket. Yes, I am.
10:30am: We're finally out the door and I'm praying that youngest just keeps on sleeping and doesn't realize he didn't get to eat before we left. And if he does, I'll just explain to him it's his fault. He's the one who chose to not wake up when I tried to fill his belly. He'll understand, I'm sure.
10:40am: Seriously? I'm parked in the bank drive-thru and my car won't start? Who would I even call? My husband is in Tulsa. My sister-in-law is in Kansas City. I have three kids in my car. And I'm in the bank drive-thru. What the heck? Fortunately it took me only a full panickie minute of turning the key back and forth and realizing it won't even leave the ignition, to discover I'd failed to put the car in park before turning off the ignition (something I always do at the bank, after reading an article in Reader's Digest about conserving gas - I don't know if it works, I just do it - because Reader's Digest said so).
11:30am: We made it. The kids were totally tuned out to "The Emperor's New Groove" the entire time - except for Joey, who did succeed in sleeping for the duration of the hour-long trip. Faux-outing with the kids = success!
11:45am: So glad we didn't stay home if this epic melt-down from the aforementioned too-tired Emmett is really what I would have faced at home. Grateful for the hour of zoning out in the car instead of screaming about every minute incident at home. Yes, I am.
12:45pm: After feeding Littlest, the rest of us have lunch and Emmett is finally not screaming again. But that could have something to do with The Care Bears. At the end of this movie, when we're all encouraged to declare our caring to save the innocent camper, I tell Micaiah, "I care. Do you care?" To which she matter-of-factly responds, "No." Alright then.
1:55pm: They're all napping! Okay, they're all laying down. Okay, one is laying down, the other two are in their room. Does that count?
2:15pm: Emmett is out like a light and because I need him to get his full amount of rest if I'm to survive the evening, I send Micaiah to my bed where there are no distractions (ie, toys) and, if she still chooses to not slumber she will at least not wake her brothers.
4:30pm: Emmett is still out - the legs dangling out of his bed while his upper half sprawls across the width of the mattress definitely indicate that. Checking on Micaiah, however, one wonders if she's really been trying to get Daddy's Nintendo DS to work for all of the past two hours, or if she's recently awoken and just now begun to entertain herself. I'm choosing to believe the latter.
5:10pm: I love watching Micaiah play by herself. She really is awfully sweet as she pretends her purple-plastic-beaded necklace is a snake crawling over Mommy and Joey. Really wondering at which point I should wake my eldest son.
5:40pm: Oh, look on the monitor! Emmett is stirring! I wait to send in Micaiah, though, so he can get his bearings before being ambushed - no one is nice when they first wake up and, again, we don't want a cranky Emmett.
6:30pm: Well, dinner was a success with one of them at least. I totally pulled out the girlie food: Chilled Strawberry Soup and Oatmeal Cookie Sandwiches (yes, they were a main dish, don't judge me - the magazine said it could even be served for breakfast - and I believe it, because the magazine said so). Not gonna lie, it's what was on the menu even before I knew Philip would be gone for the day, but he's not sad to be missing it. Micaiah wouldn't have been, either. Unfortunately, she's here and she just needs to deal with the fact that yes, it's soup and yes, it's cold. It's supposed to be that way, now eat it.
6:45pm: Getting the bath started because, even when he loves the food, it gets everywhere, especially if it involves soup and/or cream cheese (or both, in one meal). Strawberry Soup in the hair is not quite the fashion accessory we go for in this house. I'd hoped to avoid this process for the evening because Philip has been doing the baths for the elders lately and, well, I kind of like it that way.
7:15pm: Letting Emmett pick the next movie for the day because it's about time. He, apparently, is tired of Disney, too, as he opts for "Robots" and they both snuggle with their blankets on separate couches - and I figure we'll stay up a little late tonight because, well, we can.
7:45pm: Joey's getting a little tummytime on the floor, because he's totally tired of hanging out on his back. Or, at least I thought so. Did he just roll over? Had to have been a fluke. He's done that on the sofa a time or two, but I always attributed it to gravity taking over on the slanted cushion. Wait. Did he just roll over again? Seriously? I know my other kids were late bloomers, but I swear six weeks is too early for this.
7:50pm: Noticing how gorgeous Micaiah's post-bath curls are, I decide to document this for the future. She asks if she can make a silly face while I take her picture. Then she pulls out the "Hot Dog Face." I didn't even know she had such control over her tongue already.
8:15pm: I try to explain to Micaiah that if they're not even watching it, it doesn't really matter if I told them they'd go to bed when the movie was over. And, yet, the movie stays on - and they keep running around yelling to each other, "Tag, you're it!" I get concerned when Joey is pronounced "It" - will they really keep running until he can catch them in about a year?
8:45pm: They're in bed (the older ones, anyway - Tiny Man is still crying, we'll deal with that soon) - I survived!
9:00pm: Why are they still talking? Why are they always still talking? Wait, I know it's dark here in their roombut I'm pretty sure there is no little boy under that blanket. And he's not in her bed, like he normally is when there's trouble. "Emmett?" With a swoosh of the curtain, there he is, on the dresser. Again.
Sigh.
1,000 Gifts:
139. A man who takes care of the house when I don't.
140. Technology to entertain the kids on a morning of errands.
141. Adventurous spirits.
142. Emmett's words are getting clearer. Today I heard, "Tag, you're it" as well as "time-out."
143. After rinsing her hair, "Now I'm good as new!"
144. Commands that are sometimes ignored but sometimes followed.
Taking Time for Play: Home
Finally, a picture of those much talked-of clothes, scattered across the living room, but folded - that's the important part.
So, here it is . . . My Day as a Single Mom
8:30am: I wake up to Emmett crying. Not through the monitor, because I had kind of turned that down about a half hour ago. I wait for him to stop - sometimes Micaiah isn't so nice when they're playing alone in their room and she causes him to fuss before he quickly gets over it. He is not quickly getting over it this time. So, I enter the room to find Emmett distressed because he "Bump"ed - meaning he fell - off of his sister's dresser - the same one he gets a spanking for playing on every day. I explain, this is why we don't get on the dresser. To his way-too-tired-because-he-woke-up-too-early-before-climbing-on-the-dresser toddler mind, this teachable moment was entirely lost. Then I put a Toy Story VHS into the mini-TV/VCR in the corner of their room, the one that has only been used in this house about twice, tell them to sit in Micaiah's bed and leave to go back to sleep. Yes, I did. Only I had been out of my room for long enough that Joey noticed (seriously, he can sleep for a couple hours when I'm next to him, but always seems to wake up within minutes of my leaving - he always just knows), so that he was no longer happy. And after making him happy, I was no longer tired.
9:00am: I shower.
9:20am: Before rescuing the children from their Disney baby-sitter, I head to place my mug (I've mentioned it follows me everywhere) and cell phone in the living room - a daily ritual. It is there I discover the two baskets of laundry which have been migrating around the house, unfolded, all week have been folded by my man before he left the house at an hour earlier than that at which he typically leaves for work. (This is where I deviate from a single mom who, sadly, does not have a laundry fairy loitering about.) I love that man.
9:40am: We're eating breakfast to the tune of Toy Story, which is now playing in the living room because I just can't make them walk away from Buzz. I then decide we will venture out for errands. With all three kids. By myself. Only, I plan to cheat - there's no way I'm actually getting all of them out of the car. We're doing quick, in-and-out stops wherein I never let the car out of my sight. I'm plugging in a DVD, keeping the key in the ignition and the remote lock in my pocket. Yes, I am.
10:30am: We're finally out the door and I'm praying that youngest just keeps on sleeping and doesn't realize he didn't get to eat before we left. And if he does, I'll just explain to him it's his fault. He's the one who chose to not wake up when I tried to fill his belly. He'll understand, I'm sure.
10:40am: Seriously? I'm parked in the bank drive-thru and my car won't start? Who would I even call? My husband is in Tulsa. My sister-in-law is in Kansas City. I have three kids in my car. And I'm in the bank drive-thru. What the heck? Fortunately it took me only a full panickie minute of turning the key back and forth and realizing it won't even leave the ignition, to discover I'd failed to put the car in park before turning off the ignition (something I always do at the bank, after reading an article in Reader's Digest about conserving gas - I don't know if it works, I just do it - because Reader's Digest said so).
11:30am: We made it. The kids were totally tuned out to "The Emperor's New Groove" the entire time - except for Joey, who did succeed in sleeping for the duration of the hour-long trip. Faux-outing with the kids = success!
11:45am: So glad we didn't stay home if this epic melt-down from the aforementioned too-tired Emmett is really what I would have faced at home. Grateful for the hour of zoning out in the car instead of screaming about every minute incident at home. Yes, I am.
12:45pm: After feeding Littlest, the rest of us have lunch and Emmett is finally not screaming again. But that could have something to do with The Care Bears. At the end of this movie, when we're all encouraged to declare our caring to save the innocent camper, I tell Micaiah, "I care. Do you care?" To which she matter-of-factly responds, "No." Alright then.
1:55pm: They're all napping! Okay, they're all laying down. Okay, one is laying down, the other two are in their room. Does that count?
2:15pm: Emmett is out like a light and because I need him to get his full amount of rest if I'm to survive the evening, I send Micaiah to my bed where there are no distractions (ie, toys) and, if she still chooses to not slumber she will at least not wake her brothers.
4:30pm: Emmett is still out - the legs dangling out of his bed while his upper half sprawls across the width of the mattress definitely indicate that. Checking on Micaiah, however, one wonders if she's really been trying to get Daddy's Nintendo DS to work for all of the past two hours, or if she's recently awoken and just now begun to entertain herself. I'm choosing to believe the latter.
5:10pm: I love watching Micaiah play by herself. She really is awfully sweet as she pretends her purple-plastic-beaded necklace is a snake crawling over Mommy and Joey. Really wondering at which point I should wake my eldest son.
5:40pm: Oh, look on the monitor! Emmett is stirring! I wait to send in Micaiah, though, so he can get his bearings before being ambushed - no one is nice when they first wake up and, again, we don't want a cranky Emmett.
6:30pm: Well, dinner was a success with one of them at least. I totally pulled out the girlie food: Chilled Strawberry Soup and Oatmeal Cookie Sandwiches (yes, they were a main dish, don't judge me - the magazine said it could even be served for breakfast - and I believe it, because the magazine said so). Not gonna lie, it's what was on the menu even before I knew Philip would be gone for the day, but he's not sad to be missing it. Micaiah wouldn't have been, either. Unfortunately, she's here and she just needs to deal with the fact that yes, it's soup and yes, it's cold. It's supposed to be that way, now eat it.
6:45pm: Getting the bath started because, even when he loves the food, it gets everywhere, especially if it involves soup and/or cream cheese (or both, in one meal). Strawberry Soup in the hair is not quite the fashion accessory we go for in this house. I'd hoped to avoid this process for the evening because Philip has been doing the baths for the elders lately and, well, I kind of like it that way.
7:15pm: Letting Emmett pick the next movie for the day because it's about time. He, apparently, is tired of Disney, too, as he opts for "Robots" and they both snuggle with their blankets on separate couches - and I figure we'll stay up a little late tonight because, well, we can.
7:45pm: Joey's getting a little tummytime on the floor, because he's totally tired of hanging out on his back. Or, at least I thought so. Did he just roll over? Had to have been a fluke. He's done that on the sofa a time or two, but I always attributed it to gravity taking over on the slanted cushion. Wait. Did he just roll over again? Seriously? I know my other kids were late bloomers, but I swear six weeks is too early for this.
7:50pm: Noticing how gorgeous Micaiah's post-bath curls are, I decide to document this for the future. She asks if she can make a silly face while I take her picture. Then she pulls out the "Hot Dog Face." I didn't even know she had such control over her tongue already.
8:15pm: I try to explain to Micaiah that if they're not even watching it, it doesn't really matter if I told them they'd go to bed when the movie was over. And, yet, the movie stays on - and they keep running around yelling to each other, "Tag, you're it!" I get concerned when Joey is pronounced "It" - will they really keep running until he can catch them in about a year?
8:45pm: They're in bed (the older ones, anyway - Tiny Man is still crying, we'll deal with that soon) - I survived!
9:00pm: Why are they still talking? Why are they always still talking? Wait, I know it's dark here in their roombut I'm pretty sure there is no little boy under that blanket. And he's not in her bed, like he normally is when there's trouble. "Emmett?" With a swoosh of the curtain, there he is, on the dresser. Again.
Sigh.
1,000 Gifts:
139. A man who takes care of the house when I don't.
140. Technology to entertain the kids on a morning of errands.
141. Adventurous spirits.
142. Emmett's words are getting clearer. Today I heard, "Tag, you're it" as well as "time-out."
143. After rinsing her hair, "Now I'm good as new!"
144. Commands that are sometimes ignored but sometimes followed.
Taking Time for Play: Home
Finally, a picture of those much talked-of clothes, scattered across the living room, but folded - that's the important part.
22 March 2012
Of R-E-S-P-E-C-T
I absolutely love the Amplified Bible. It has a way of breaking down and delving into the meanings of the words, putting all of it right there together in the verse, giving much more depth to what one is reading. It can be a bit wordy and difficult to follow because of all the supposed bunny trails, but if you're wanting an in-depth look into one small chunk, I would recommend checking out the verses, first, in your preferred translation and, second, in the Amplified (and, third, in The Message, to give an even further dimension).
My women's Bible study at church has been focusing on contentment and this week's challenge is finding contentment in our relationships. As far as our relationship with our husband, this contentment is clearly to be found in understanding our role as a wife and learning to do that well.
A key verse for this kind of study is typically Ephesians 5:33, "However let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband." There is really so much to be understood from that one small verse, but today, in reading the Amplified version, I found so much more meat, a blueprint, really, for how to love my husband fully.
"However, let each man of you [without exception] love his wife as [being in a sense] his very own self, and let the wife see that she respects and reverences her husband [that she notices him, regards him, honors him, prefers him, venerates, and esteems him; and that she defers to him, praises him, and loves and admires him exceedingly]." (Ephesians 5:33 AMP, emphasis added)
Wow! So much meaning hidden in that tiny command to respect and reverence our husbands (which, let's be honest, can be a challenge in and of itself). Respect can sometimes be a vague concept and this breakdown provided by the Amplified Bible really puts walking shoes on how we are to live it out.
Sometimes we may defer to our husband and consider that alone as respecting him, but in my deference, am I praising his decisions and making certain he knows I love him and admire him exceedingly? Or other times I lean more toward being sure he knows I love him deeply, but not trusting him to lead. Respect is such a dynamic concept and we need to be sure we are living this command fully.
I know these words have challenged me today to love my husband in the way he deserves, as ordained by God himself.
1,000 Gifts:
127. Full instructions on how to love my husband completely.
128. My daughter reciting her first memory verse.
139. Breakfast devotions with an engaged three-year-old (and a little boy who wants to be involved, even if he doesn't understand).
130. Remembering my real "job" is being a mother - and that might mean playing a game and learning not to let it bother me when she doesn't understand the rules.
131. Experimenting with foreign foods from old memories.
132. Finally cleaning out a closet that was well overdue.
Taking Time for Play: Relaxation
That man I love so much enjoys watching Godzilla cartoons on Netflix with all three of his little ones.
My new recipe for the day: Borscht! Buying the beet for this the other day brought to mind references from both "Doug" and "The Office." "Bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica!" But it all looks so pretty getting ready to be boiled.
And the end result was pretty good - maybe not something I'll make again (it wasn't fabulous enough for the amount of work that went into it), but I'm glad I ventured out in our meal plans.
My women's Bible study at church has been focusing on contentment and this week's challenge is finding contentment in our relationships. As far as our relationship with our husband, this contentment is clearly to be found in understanding our role as a wife and learning to do that well.
A key verse for this kind of study is typically Ephesians 5:33, "However let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband." There is really so much to be understood from that one small verse, but today, in reading the Amplified version, I found so much more meat, a blueprint, really, for how to love my husband fully.
"However, let each man of you [without exception] love his wife as [being in a sense] his very own self, and let the wife see that she respects and reverences her husband [that she notices him, regards him, honors him, prefers him, venerates, and esteems him; and that she defers to him, praises him, and loves and admires him exceedingly]." (Ephesians 5:33 AMP, emphasis added)
Wow! So much meaning hidden in that tiny command to respect and reverence our husbands (which, let's be honest, can be a challenge in and of itself). Respect can sometimes be a vague concept and this breakdown provided by the Amplified Bible really puts walking shoes on how we are to live it out.
Sometimes we may defer to our husband and consider that alone as respecting him, but in my deference, am I praising his decisions and making certain he knows I love him and admire him exceedingly? Or other times I lean more toward being sure he knows I love him deeply, but not trusting him to lead. Respect is such a dynamic concept and we need to be sure we are living this command fully.
I know these words have challenged me today to love my husband in the way he deserves, as ordained by God himself.
1,000 Gifts:
127. Full instructions on how to love my husband completely.
128. My daughter reciting her first memory verse.
139. Breakfast devotions with an engaged three-year-old (and a little boy who wants to be involved, even if he doesn't understand).
130. Remembering my real "job" is being a mother - and that might mean playing a game and learning not to let it bother me when she doesn't understand the rules.
131. Experimenting with foreign foods from old memories.
132. Finally cleaning out a closet that was well overdue.
Taking Time for Play: Relaxation
That man I love so much enjoys watching Godzilla cartoons on Netflix with all three of his little ones.
My new recipe for the day: Borscht! Buying the beet for this the other day brought to mind references from both "Doug" and "The Office." "Bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica!" But it all looks so pretty getting ready to be boiled.
And the end result was pretty good - maybe not something I'll make again (it wasn't fabulous enough for the amount of work that went into it), but I'm glad I ventured out in our meal plans.
18 March 2012
Of a Long (but Good) Weekend
Joey had quite the eventful weekend - meeting Nenaw & Papaw for the first time (they loved him, of course - who wouldn't?), his first St. Patrick's Day (he was sure to wear the obligatory green all day), and attending the Grand Opening of the Covenant Store in Tulsa (with which his daddy has been greatly involved). Sure, he may have slept through the vast majority of these thrilling days, but he was honored just to be there. A few photos:
1,000 Gifts:
91. A love that hurts at the thought of loss.
92. Friends so close to my heart it hurts not to have them close.
93. Opportunities that may change our lives.
94. Rays of light peeking through the clouds.
95. All three children napping at the same time.
96. Tired toddlers giving into the late-night hour.
97. "Turning" thanks with Nenaw & Papaw.
98. Tiny green shirts ready for tiny bodies.
99. Banners, advertising favorite games, adorning the evidence of hard work and a step of faith.
100. A miniature yellow butterfly flitting from weed to weed as I do chores on the other side of the glass.
101. A little one curled up as he receives his nourishment.
102. Realizing I don't even know what condiments my husband needs for dinner - six years and still so much to learn.
103. Ketchup - the perfect dipping sauce for everything (even apples?) - to toddler, anyway.
104. A diaper bag, overflowing with needs met and yet waiting to be met.
105. Sonic - and fresh corndogs - to end a road trip.
106. A list of produce overflowing from my fridge.
107. An unexpected card to let us know they care.
108. Recipes waiting to be tested.
#Taking Time for Play: Sunshine:
The sun took the time to peek through the clouds on our drive to Tulsa.
Music:
Joey and I got to drive alone between Nenaw & Papaw's house in Chelsea and the store in Tulsa - an hour (nearly) alone in the car? Of course I need some great tunes - thus this mix from my high school days - love it!
Pink:
Micaiah, all decked out in pink, got to join Papaw as he did the chores. She was reluctant to get any closer to the horse than this, but eventually came to within two feet of Frank!
He started the day right - wearing his "My First St. Patrick's Day" p.j.'s from Grandma & Grandpa.
At the Covenant Store with Daddy.
Resting with Daddy after a long day (and back in those great p.j.'s again).
Saying "Good-bye" to Nenaw - can't wait to visit again!
Papaw and his great-grandsons.
1,000 Gifts:
91. A love that hurts at the thought of loss.
92. Friends so close to my heart it hurts not to have them close.
93. Opportunities that may change our lives.
94. Rays of light peeking through the clouds.
95. All three children napping at the same time.
96. Tired toddlers giving into the late-night hour.
97. "Turning" thanks with Nenaw & Papaw.
98. Tiny green shirts ready for tiny bodies.
99. Banners, advertising favorite games, adorning the evidence of hard work and a step of faith.
100. A miniature yellow butterfly flitting from weed to weed as I do chores on the other side of the glass.
101. A little one curled up as he receives his nourishment.
102. Realizing I don't even know what condiments my husband needs for dinner - six years and still so much to learn.
103. Ketchup - the perfect dipping sauce for everything (even apples?) - to toddler, anyway.
104. A diaper bag, overflowing with needs met and yet waiting to be met.
105. Sonic - and fresh corndogs - to end a road trip.
106. A list of produce overflowing from my fridge.
107. An unexpected card to let us know they care.
108. Recipes waiting to be tested.
#Taking Time for Play: Sunshine:
The sun took the time to peek through the clouds on our drive to Tulsa.
Music:
Joey and I got to drive alone between Nenaw & Papaw's house in Chelsea and the store in Tulsa - an hour (nearly) alone in the car? Of course I need some great tunes - thus this mix from my high school days - love it!
Pink:
Micaiah, all decked out in pink, got to join Papaw as he did the chores. She was reluctant to get any closer to the horse than this, but eventually came to within two feet of Frank!
14 March 2012
Of Celebrating Pi Day
With the date being 3.14, the nerd in me hates for it to pass unnoticed. Thus, for the second time (though not in a row, sadly), I opted to make a pie in honor of Pi Day. And since I was going to go to the effort, I decided to make Philip's absolute favorite - chocolate pie. But not just any chocolate pie - the recipe passed down from his great-grandmother.
I have avoided this index card in my little white recipe box for over five (nearly six!) years now because, as one can imagine, it is a daunting task to be trusted with such a treasured family recipe. Seriously, you need to hear Philip talk about this chocolate pie. It's like his holy grail. There are over 20 people who gather for holidays at his grandparents' house and they still make one whole chocolate pie labeled as "Philip's pie" (it's honestly deemed as such because they make his without the accompanying meringue and though they say anyone can have some, the threatening gleam in my husband's eye typically says otherwise, or maybe I'm the only one who sees that).
This pie is a big deal. And for some reason I had in my mind that it was finicky, easy to mess up. I could not bear to go about presenting my husband with a less-than-perfect chocolate pie.
Thus, rather than risk learning from my mistakes, I put off making my husband's favorite pie in the world. For years. I do have my not-so-smart days (or years).
So, today, Pi Day 2012, I was going to rectify my error. And if I made it wrong, at least I'd know for next time.
I dusted off ye old recipe card, began to read through these finicky instructions - but there were only three. The essence of which was: combine the ingredients, add to hot milk and let cool.
Seriously?
This couldn't be the complicated dessert of my fears. Plus, wasn't there supposed to be "boiling" in there anywhere, or even mention of a crust (though, really, I had the crust made already, but still)? Thus, a quick text to my wonderful mother-in-law (who, apparently, is still working on mastering this puppy, too - ok, I tease, she's made it a time or two, but has been having issues with the eggs the past couple go-arounds) and an e-mail later and I was back in business.
And I was an idiot.
Really? Five years avoiding a pie that took me about ten minutes to make? Can a girl get any more ridiculous?
Either way, my husband was grateful and it was a wonderful Pi Day for everyone involved (including my aforementioned mother-in-law who got to make her own impromptu pie to be sure she gave me the most accurate instructions - that's dedication).
Happy Pi Day to all! (And, yes, I am such a nerd that I carved the figure in the pudding before it cooled so the filling would set that way.)
1,000 Gifts:
79. A little girl finally napping after nestling her head on Daddy's pillow rather than her own.
80. A little boy sleeping in as I dress his sister and gather their breakfasts for the quick trip to church.
81. A little boy found staring at the ceiling, calmly waiting to be fed, rather than fussing because we'd been away too long.
82. A Bible Study that speaks to me right where I am.
83. Curls on the little girl I don't deserve.
84. The knowledge that He is with me, even in the mundane.
Taking Time for Play: Candy
Nestled in with candy, popcorn and our 3D glasses for date night with my man!
09 March 2012
Of Going Awry
We waited all week-long for this event - a good, old-fashioned Sunday School cook-out, complete with ALL the kids, the likes of which we have not seen for some time. I spent the afternoon preparing side dishes and giving thanks that Joey had timed his feeding schedule perfectly to allow for him to eat just before we left and be able to last until we got home. Things were looking great.
It didn't register to me, when I heard the kids through their monitor as I chopped vegetables for the pasta salad, that the older ones had woken about a half-hour earlier than the time allotted for their minimum two-hour nap - a full hour and a half earlier than they'd been waking at the beginning of the week. Had I noticed the time, I might have put on my mean-mommy face and demanded they go back to sleep.
But it just didn't register. Not until we were sitting in the living room of our teachers' home, surrounded by friends and their well-behaved, happy children, while we attempted to calm our snot-nosed, bleary-eyed elder son who was just not having it. Not having what, we weren't sure, but whatever it was, he wasn't having it. All he was having was a fit.
We managed to make it through dinner - well, Micaiah and I did - she and I even ate ourselves to flat-out, belly-aching stuffed - Philip, however, got the basics he could shove onto his plate as quickly as possible and the meager piece of cake his wife cut for him to share with tantrum-boy as they exiled themselves to the hall. After eating, though, I found myself packing up our things as quickly as possible while Philip consoled our son on the front porch and we high-tailed our embarrassed selves out of there and put that cranky boy to bed.
It was rough, but I was ok - heading home was better than listening to his cries or hanging out inside while my husband was relegated to the darkness, away from everyone else, just so I could socialize. What I didn't think about, though, was the impact it was having on him, that wonderful man of mine who had been willing to sacrifice adult-conversation for the need to calm our son.
See, I get adult conversation quite often. Every Wednesday morning I participate in a women's Bible Study with my fellow stay-at-home moms. On the rare occasion, I get to enjoy a play-date with these same wonderful women and their children. Last Sunday, I attended a baby shower with, again, these same wonderful women (and those who don't get to enjoy the weekday rendezvous) and spent the afternoon free of toddlers, just drinking mocha punch and downing mini fruit pizzas. So, truly, heading home early tonight was no big deal.
And then there's my husband, who spends his days heading to work, where 99% of his conversation is about coding and nothing more. He comes home to a wife who has spent all day with kids and just needs a break, so, because he's a wonderful husband, he grants her that break, playing with the kids and keeping them out of my hair as I cook dinner. He tries to talk to me about the things he cares about, his games and his painting of miniatures, but I'm generally too busy getting things done to hear, and when I do hear, I just can't relate. He converses on-line with men who share his interests, but that's if they're available - most of his conversations happen via e-mail or as comments on forums.
So this night of adult-interaction was big for him. Really big - bigger than I'd taken the time to realize, unfortunately. And our fussy son kept him from getting a moment of enjoyment out of any of it.
Sometimes it's really important to remember that these days, these days of not going out because it's so much easier to stay in, these days of toddler tantrums and searching for baby-sitters so we can have a moment's respite, these are fleeting - they are but a whisper in the grand time-line of our lives. This, too, shall pass. And when it does, we'll miss these days where our greatest frustration with our kids was when their nap was cut just a little too short.
1,000 Gifts:
49. Time to check things off my list.
50. Fresh vegetables to chop.
51. Checks in the mail.
52. Bacon-wrapped jalapeños, even after you think you've already eaten too much.
53. A husband willing to watch the older children while I accompany the youngest on a routine doctor's visit.
54. Perfect timing from a nursing boy - both at the doctor's office and at home.
Taking Time for Play: Happy.
Emmett, in happier times - as in the time just following that too-short nap when the tiredness hadn't yet kicked in, disobeying by sitting on sissy's dresser, but being darn cute while doing so.
Again, just for kicks and giggles, look who got to wear jeans and shoes for the first time today. What a big day!
He may look tiny with Daddy holding him up, but this big boy weighed in at 11lbs at the doctor today - and he's 22 inches long, nearly two inches longer than he was at birth! He's still in the 84th percentile, though, which, compared to his siblings when they were itty bitty, is actually small-ish.
It didn't register to me, when I heard the kids through their monitor as I chopped vegetables for the pasta salad, that the older ones had woken about a half-hour earlier than the time allotted for their minimum two-hour nap - a full hour and a half earlier than they'd been waking at the beginning of the week. Had I noticed the time, I might have put on my mean-mommy face and demanded they go back to sleep.
But it just didn't register. Not until we were sitting in the living room of our teachers' home, surrounded by friends and their well-behaved, happy children, while we attempted to calm our snot-nosed, bleary-eyed elder son who was just not having it. Not having what, we weren't sure, but whatever it was, he wasn't having it. All he was having was a fit.
We managed to make it through dinner - well, Micaiah and I did - she and I even ate ourselves to flat-out, belly-aching stuffed - Philip, however, got the basics he could shove onto his plate as quickly as possible and the meager piece of cake his wife cut for him to share with tantrum-boy as they exiled themselves to the hall. After eating, though, I found myself packing up our things as quickly as possible while Philip consoled our son on the front porch and we high-tailed our embarrassed selves out of there and put that cranky boy to bed.
It was rough, but I was ok - heading home was better than listening to his cries or hanging out inside while my husband was relegated to the darkness, away from everyone else, just so I could socialize. What I didn't think about, though, was the impact it was having on him, that wonderful man of mine who had been willing to sacrifice adult-conversation for the need to calm our son.
See, I get adult conversation quite often. Every Wednesday morning I participate in a women's Bible Study with my fellow stay-at-home moms. On the rare occasion, I get to enjoy a play-date with these same wonderful women and their children. Last Sunday, I attended a baby shower with, again, these same wonderful women (and those who don't get to enjoy the weekday rendezvous) and spent the afternoon free of toddlers, just drinking mocha punch and downing mini fruit pizzas. So, truly, heading home early tonight was no big deal.
And then there's my husband, who spends his days heading to work, where 99% of his conversation is about coding and nothing more. He comes home to a wife who has spent all day with kids and just needs a break, so, because he's a wonderful husband, he grants her that break, playing with the kids and keeping them out of my hair as I cook dinner. He tries to talk to me about the things he cares about, his games and his painting of miniatures, but I'm generally too busy getting things done to hear, and when I do hear, I just can't relate. He converses on-line with men who share his interests, but that's if they're available - most of his conversations happen via e-mail or as comments on forums.
So this night of adult-interaction was big for him. Really big - bigger than I'd taken the time to realize, unfortunately. And our fussy son kept him from getting a moment of enjoyment out of any of it.
Sometimes it's really important to remember that these days, these days of not going out because it's so much easier to stay in, these days of toddler tantrums and searching for baby-sitters so we can have a moment's respite, these are fleeting - they are but a whisper in the grand time-line of our lives. This, too, shall pass. And when it does, we'll miss these days where our greatest frustration with our kids was when their nap was cut just a little too short.
1,000 Gifts:
49. Time to check things off my list.
50. Fresh vegetables to chop.
51. Checks in the mail.
52. Bacon-wrapped jalapeños, even after you think you've already eaten too much.
53. A husband willing to watch the older children while I accompany the youngest on a routine doctor's visit.
54. Perfect timing from a nursing boy - both at the doctor's office and at home.
Taking Time for Play: Happy.
Emmett, in happier times - as in the time just following that too-short nap when the tiredness hadn't yet kicked in, disobeying by sitting on sissy's dresser, but being darn cute while doing so.
Again, just for kicks and giggles, look who got to wear jeans and shoes for the first time today. What a big day!
23 February 2012
Of Her Brilliance
Philip introduced Micaiah to "I Spy" tonight - a completely new game to her, but she took to it quickly and loved it. Though she apparently tended to choose a color and then decide, as her dad tried to find what she spied, which thing he chose that would actually be the winning object, rather than the other way around.
Her brilliance shone, though, when it was her turn to find the "spied" item.
During the fifth or sixth round, Philip announced, "I spy something brown."
"Um, my eyes?"
Seriously?! Like I said, brilliant.
So brilliant, in fact, we've already allowed her to begin her practice as a doctor. Or, rather, she decided on her own as she chose to examine her newest brother. First she checked his heart.
Then she gave him a shot (in the leg, the only part I felt comfortable with her possibly poking a little too hard).
Then, with excellent bedside manner, she assured her patient, "You're all better, Joey!" We didn't even know he'd been sick - she is so on top of things.
Her brilliance shone, though, when it was her turn to find the "spied" item.
During the fifth or sixth round, Philip announced, "I spy something brown."
"Um, my eyes?"
Seriously?! Like I said, brilliant.
So brilliant, in fact, we've already allowed her to begin her practice as a doctor. Or, rather, she decided on her own as she chose to examine her newest brother. First she checked his heart.
Then she gave him a shot (in the leg, the only part I felt comfortable with her possibly poking a little too hard).
Then, with excellent bedside manner, she assured her patient, "You're all better, Joey!" We didn't even know he'd been sick - she is so on top of things.
17 February 2012
Of Granting a Reprieve
I woke up this morning feeling not-at-all well. On top of residual discomfort from having recently shoved a human being from my body (and, apparently, having pushed myself too far by putting away leftovers last night), I was now experiencing flu-like symptoms on top of it all. A day in bed was definitely going to need to happen. And, of course, my husband, who has been home all week to care for the needs of myself and our three little ones would have to continue in his duties as Mr. Mom.
This role reversal has taken a very evident toll on my man. The constant demands of two kids who are learning to express their wants and needs, topped with a wife who can do little more than make the brief trip between the bed and the bathroom, and the newest little one who, while mostly sleeping, still needs diaper changes (just like his older siblings) and, at times, a reminder that it's time to sleep again, can definitely drain a man's sanity (oh, who am I kidding? Just caring for the two older ones drains my sanity at least once a week).
Thus, by the end of day three on solo duty (we were very fortunate to have been blessed with caretakers for our other two for the duration of the first two days of Joey's life), my man was not sounding the patient and fun-loving Daddy I know he can be. Not at all.
And being that I have missed my babies by being confined to bed-rest, I suggested Micaiah pick a movie for the evening and snuggle in Mommy and Daddy's bed to watch - one of her most favorite activities (if not for the rareness). Thus, I spent my evening snuggled in next to a dozing infant with my three year old sucking her fingers and watching Alice in Wonderland, while our middle child (we have a middle child!) plunked away on the iPad - and Daddy enjoyed such much-needed alone-time in the living room.
Definitely not a bad way to spend a couple of hours, I can guarantee you that.
This role reversal has taken a very evident toll on my man. The constant demands of two kids who are learning to express their wants and needs, topped with a wife who can do little more than make the brief trip between the bed and the bathroom, and the newest little one who, while mostly sleeping, still needs diaper changes (just like his older siblings) and, at times, a reminder that it's time to sleep again, can definitely drain a man's sanity (oh, who am I kidding? Just caring for the two older ones drains my sanity at least once a week).
Thus, by the end of day three on solo duty (we were very fortunate to have been blessed with caretakers for our other two for the duration of the first two days of Joey's life), my man was not sounding the patient and fun-loving Daddy I know he can be. Not at all.
And being that I have missed my babies by being confined to bed-rest, I suggested Micaiah pick a movie for the evening and snuggle in Mommy and Daddy's bed to watch - one of her most favorite activities (if not for the rareness). Thus, I spent my evening snuggled in next to a dozing infant with my three year old sucking her fingers and watching Alice in Wonderland, while our middle child (we have a middle child!) plunked away on the iPad - and Daddy enjoyed such much-needed alone-time in the living room.
Definitely not a bad way to spend a couple of hours, I can guarantee you that.
The brief moment before Emmett decided watching a movie was too boring.
What I got to spend my day staring at. Best day ever.
After deciding the movie was too boring. Our kids are too technologically advanced for our own good.
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