So tomorrow is Thanksgiving. All I keep thinking is "I should run to target and get some groceries" or "I need to ahet that XYZ toy for Brighton" or whatever. Basically my thoughts are roaming towards shopping and my usual day off. But instead I'll be stuffing my face and stretching my pants and most likely cleaning pumpkin pie and whipped topping off my children and their clothes. And I'll be knitting. Yes, I will. First of all, I hate sitting around with nothing to do with my hands. I'll either knit or eat, and quite frankly I'll be pushing my luck with my already stretchy yoga pants. I am fortunate to have such thoughts. On this Thankgiving Eve, I shall reflect on a few things I am thankful for. Of course I'm thankful for family and for having a warm roof over our head and a kitchen fully stocked with food. Something I know many do not have. But I'm also thankful for the lessons I've learned and hardships I've endured to become the imperfect person I am today. Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. This year and for many years to come. This blog is a personal blog, copyright protected under a creative commons license. You may not use any photos included in this blog for commercial or non commercial use.

BLOG BLOG BLOOOOOOG

So I decided to create another blog because I post WAY too many things on facebook that my kids are doing and saying and figured at least this way I could keep all those quips in a neat little package. Like I did with Brighton's blog, turned family blog that just didn't feel right so kind of came to a screeching hault. Then I added an eating local blog, a photo blog, an Iowa blog, a blog just about Emmeline, and a homebrew blog. Which brings me to this blog, that I'm typing on the toilet while my daughter is taking a bath.

So that right there, that last sentence? That's how my posts will be. Pretty frank, pretty blunt, hopefully funny or at least mildly entertaining. Because in my house, we bicker, we argue, we seem to have a constant barrage of random crap (mostly toys and paper) floating about our house, but we enjoy one another. And we laugh. A lot. So I hope this blog doesn't go the way of the dodo. like the others did.










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Time Change #BigFatFail

Facebook Post from 11/6/11

"Well this time change was a big fat disappointment. Neither child slept in. And Andrew's plan of "we'll get the kids to bed at 8:00" took a big crap at albuterol alley and poop drive. Thwarted by man and nature."

Andrew and I had great expectations regarding this time change.  We convinced ourselves that the kids' bodies would still tell them it was an hour later, so we could start putting them to bed (technically) an hour earlier.  I jumped on board with this thinking because, well, it's logical right?  

WRONG

Part of it wasn't anyone's fault really.  Brighton has a nasty wheeze, so he's taking breathing treatments with alburerol which increases heart rate, blah blah blah, and can keep them awake or make them shaky.  OK fine.  He had a hard time going to sleep, he doesn't feel good and wanted a little cuddle time more than what he was given.  So his bedtime took about 1.5 hours.  (FYI, we started at 8)...but we can deal with Brighton's bedtime, he's pretty easy to get to go to bed.  

Then there's Emmeline.  Oh sweet Emmeline.  She's been off for about 2 months now, between illnesses and surgery and antibiotics her gut has been a wreck.  So finally we had a more solid poop for the first time in 2 months about 3 days ago.  And she's started to get tired around 8 - 8:30 PM CDT.  So it would make sense that once we were back into standard time, she would get tired around 7 - 7:30 right?  Well, she did.  So I cut my show and my Ravelry search for a manly hat with ear flaps short so I could attempt to put Emmeline to bed at 7:30.  She nursed for a little while as we rocked, acted like she was going to fall asleep...then POP!  Her eyes fly open, her legs start to flail, and I feel her trying to escape off my lap.  CRAP!  So I just give up after about 1/2 hour and come back out into the livingroom.  

Guess what?  No one frigging went to bed until almost 10 PM.  Was that CDT? OR CST?  I don't effing know. But to top it off, everyone was awake promptly at 6:15.  

BIGFATFAIL.

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Reason #347 For Why I Can Not be a SAHM

Really, SAHM's (Stay At Home Mom's) I hand it to ya.  Moreover, WAHM's (Work At Home Mom's) I am floored at how you do it.  Heaven help me.  I'm trying to get the last of my garden preserved, and I can't finish anything without a vacuum or towel or Norwex cloth in my hand.  Now, in all fairness, I have a mountain of Kale to dehydrate, and searching through the curly leaf kale for caterpillars the same exact color, is painstaking and takes an extraordinary amount of time.  But Emme has a deck box full, no, OVERFLOWING, with toys.  What does she find?  The plant I brought in from outside because I didn't want it to freeze.  And the dirt.  Everywhere.  I knew she was too quiet...

On a more positive note, as I was typing, she climbed onto the table, sat herself in her high chair and buckled herself in.  And is now making a mountain out of a mole hill.  Time for a snack I guess.

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Bullying

So who knew bullying started in Preschool, right?  I'm curious, who teaches their boys that it's OK to hit and pinch and kick?  Older siblings?  Parents who rough house?  Parents who don't pay any attention to what their kids are doing?  Because Brighton started being bullied in Pre-K.  He's now in Kindergarten and being bullied again.

Being a fierce mama, I am inclined to rock the world of this kid's parents.  I don't want my son to continue to be party to this brat's pinching and kicking and pushing and punching.  He's the kind of kid that looks all cute but the second you turn your head away, he's punching someone, breaking something, doing something he's not supposed to be doing.

On the other hand, my son has a tendency to exaggerate, and as of late, lie.  He's not perfect, not by a long shot, and I'm sure he's party to some kind of Neanderthal behavior himself on the playground.  He has a propensity for quick tears.  He's not assertive, he's not mean, he's not ... well, he's not a neanderthal. 

So what's a mom to do?  I've emailed his teacher, principal, counselor, and superintendent.  Though it seems for all pretenses, that they're listening to what I'm saying, it also seems that they would rather I handle it by helping to "empower" Brighton to tell his teacher and for me to talk to this other kid's parents.  Oh I'll talk to them alright.  But if I don't see some kind of improvement, I'm taking him out of this school.

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Getting the worst mother ever award again, at Emme's Dr. Visit the other day, she asked how many words Emme has, and I said .... "Uh...I dunno?? She mostly grunts." Now, in my defense, I only had 2.5 hours of sleep the night before...or the morning before...so she cut me some slack. So here's a list thus far that I can think of, just to prove to no one in particular (because no one reads this blog) that I'm not a completely inept mother...

Wow

Poop

Duck

Cat

Uh-Oh

Night-Night

Mom

Dad

Brighton (i-ton)

Woof

Dog

No!

All Done

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Monsters

What a whirlwind of a weekend. This month has gone by so fast it's almost like August never happened. Today we're recovering from a great weekend of meeting family members I've only known through facebook. My husband's family had a family reunion and some of his family that I've never met (in person) came from all parts of the states. My little E was a monster and a half, and is still being a monster and a half. Though maybe more of 1 1/4 monster at this point...she's teething, growing, and having 2 days of little or no nap and 2 nights of short 10 hour sleeps. My son B is still regurgitating scenes from the Call of Duty debacle from his summer sitters (LSS, all summer long he'd been talking about this zombie video game he's been playing and I thought it was some silly E for Everyone game where they chase zombies blah blah but turns out, his sitter was letting him play or watch - doesn't really matter - Call of Duty...ever seen it? Check out the link...nice...fucking brilliant-until one day he says to me "I shot this guy in the back of the head and shot this guys face off! to which I had a MAJOR freak out melt down mama bear style) so we're still dealing with blowing peoples (well, zombies - but still) heads off and shooting them in the face. Which is a whole different story. AT ANY RATE. This was a great weekend that thank god is ending today. Preferably after monster #2 has her morning nap.

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