Enjoying It

Well, I've said it before. I am living my dream. I always wanted all boys and to be home with them. I just didn't think it would be what it is and I struggle some days. So I recently decided that I needed to enjoy this more. And summer is a great time to enjoy being a mom, at home, with 3 little boys. I found that if I let go of some things, like any semblance of a clean home, things go much better. So this week, I'm making a conscious effort to let go and enjoy my blessings.

We started a 'thankful list', for each of the boys and myself. We had a great sermon on Sunday that talked about the 10 lepers that Jesus healed and only one returned to praise him and thank him. I thought to myself, darn it, I do not want to be one of the nine that isn't thankful. I'm going to be thankful and need to be more conscious in my effort, so we started to list our blessings. On Q's list is his family, on B's list is cars and Daddy. On my is my family and coffee. We are going to try to add to them everyday or every couple of days. The lists are hanging in my dining room, under our give thanks sign which I've had a while.


Along with the lists, I've been trying to take time to enjoy the 3 human blessings that God has given me. Like, playing baseball with Q, even when I don't want to or have time to. When I do take the time and do something with him, I end up having fun. And playing monster trucks with them. Oh, its so boring and hard to get into kid mode and use the imagination, but once I get into it, it can be fun. And I get to hear their conversations and get to know their world of Monster Jam a little better. They make me laugh and are really smart. Imagine that.

Thank you God for these 3 blessings. Help me to enjoy them more everyday.

Dinner of Hope

Last night, we took all 3 children to our favorite pizza place. It actually has waitresses that bring you food. And it actually went well. Really well. It gives me hope. Let me explain.
Ever since J has been born, his hour(s) of need start at about 4pm and go until he's in bed. He's just high needs if you are trying to accomplish anything involving dinner. Cooking it, eating it, cleaning up after it, he's screaming unless he's being held and entertained. This makes dinner time whether home or out, stressful to say the least. We often eat in shifts so the screaming does not occur, because I cannot handle and do NOT enjoy a screaming J plus the noise of the other two while eating. It makes me cranky. Not that it takes much to make me cranky. We have not been to a sit down restaurant in a loong time as a family because of this and the antics of the two big boys. We do go to chick-fil-a on occasion for a break.
Anyway. Lately, J has started to enjoy eating real food, like crackers and pizza crusts and it will keep him quiet, also, he can sit in a high chair. This is a glorious thing. Not only does he look sweet and angelic sucking on a pizza crust, smiling at you, the silence is glorious as well.
So last night, Scott suggested going out for pizza. I looked at him like he was crazy, but every once in a while, crazy can be fun, so I agreed. And it was great.
Everyone eats when we go out for pizza. Q gets chicken fingers or a plate of pasta and B will eat his weight in pizza. There's no fussing, and they love it there. And the price is right. The cute little girls wearing flip-flops that serve us, are sweet to the kids, and its quick. And last night, J just sucked on his pizza crust and bounced in the highchair.
Dinners like these give me hope for the future. I dream a dream of one day eating a full meal together, where everyone is happy and not asking me "how many bites?". Where we all sit and eat at the same time and someone isn't doing laps with J. Last night was as close to that dream as I'm going to get for now and I enjoyed it. Thank you very much. The end.

Jeckle and Hyde

OK, is it just me? Or am I the only one that feels a little bi-polar when it comes to mothering. Loving it for a moment then seconds later am ready to tear my hair out. Is this normal or not?
My mom seems to think she always LOVED being a mother and never fails to tell me so. So, according to her, I'm a freak of nature. I also don't remember my mom ever losing her cool...something that I do probably every day.

Motherhood

Someone posted this on their blog and I read it and it speaks volumes to me. If you have a sec, check it out. Motherhood as a Mission field.
I often feel like my "work" is not important enough. I feel as if I'm waiting to hear from God what I'm supposed to be doing with my life. A couple of months ago I started to pray and pray as to what I was supposed to be doing and kept 'hearing' the same thing. "This is what I called you for." Really. This is it. The mundane, the 'ground hog day experiences'. Sometimes, it disappoints me, when I think about it, that motherhood is what I'm supposed to be doing. Its NOT glamorous, and no one will think I'm super cool, or amazing for doing it. But God in his gentle way has shown me that it is important, though it doesn't feel like it. But then if you look at it in another light, as to really how important it is to be living the gospel for your kids, it takes on a whole new meaning. (and then I get scared thinking that I'm really stinking at my job and wholly molly -I'm FAILING!).
Anyway. Just some words to remind myself that what I'm doing today, is important, no matter how crazy, dirty, boring,fun,glamorous, repetitive, frustrating, joy-filled, unappreciated, loud, happy, crazy, ahhh!--the day seems to be.

Day 4 of Summer

Its disconcerting that I'm at a loss this early in the summer game.
A snapshot of yesterday.
Up at 6:30am.
T.V. is on before I'm even out of bed.
Breakfast is eaten and cleaned up by 7:30.
By 7:45, B is out back playing monster trucks in the dirt. Q joins him. They play so nicely together for about 30minutes. J and I join them and they decide to play soccer, then in the sandbox, then monster trucks again. At 9:30, I head in to put J in for a nap and try to get showered. They follow me in and things head downhill fast.
They're fighting over who knows what. I'm annoyed cause I'm trying to get J to nurse before bed, and he's super distracted by any noise, and they are making lots of noise. Argh.
I do get J down for a nap,and manage to shower (this was after I caved and told them to put the t.v. on for another show).
its about 10am, and try to do "table time." Q has two workbooks to complete for the summer, so I give him a couple pages to do. He finishes them in about a minute.
Because my guilt eats at me for B not knowing his letters at age 3, I decided that this summer we would work on them. So, I did a couple of things for letter A. B seemed to enjoy it (read:did not have a crying fit or object violently).
After the learning part of table time was over, I tried to get the boys to color pictures to send to a set of cousins. They were not game. Its maybe 10:30 and Q is saying to me "I feel like I want to go somewhere, I need to get out of the house." Wonder where he gets that from? Me.
So J wakes up from his nap,we eat lunch and head out to sign up for swim lessons, and the library and then take J for an ear check. (he has mysterious gunk caked all over his ear for about a week). J is fine. Waiting the 30min in the doc's office was somewhat difficult for all parties involved, but they weren't horrendous. We're back home at 2:30 and 2 out of 3 boys fall asleep in the car which is ALWAYS a bad thing.
I couldn't get anyone to take a much needed nap (much needed for them as well as me).
So, at 3:30 we're back outside, on the scooter's waiting for Scott to get home.
For some reason, I'm exhausted. I cannot or will not muster up the energy to cook dinner. Thank you God for a husband that takes pity on me and suggests we got to Chick-Fil-A for family nite. The balloon lady is there and because neither boy can think of what kind of balloon they want, she suggests swords. And swords they had. Never good. Thankfully they had both eaten and we were heading out when they got the balloons. I "accidentally" shut B's sword in the car door as we were packing up the car. WHoops. Bath time and bed time occurred without much happening. Although, I have to say, I love it when the boys are sweaty and smelling like sunblock and covered in dirt. I've said it before. I think its evidence that they have been boys and have had a good day. There is a nasty dirty ring around the tub that seems ever present. Gross, but a good thing.
What's on tap for today? Who knows. But I'm sure the boys will have a fun day, try to kill each other at some point, and I'll be exhausted and cranky by the end of it.

Summertime

Q's been out of school for 3 days now. And I'm not ready for the almost constant fighting that's been going on. Also, for the terrible behavior from the both of them when I need to go to the store. If I just take B and J, things are OK. There is the occasional melt-down tantrum over something B wants, but he is generally compliant 80% of the time. But when I throw Q in the mix, its like they feed off each other and run all over the store, almost get hit by other people's cart, hang on my cart then cry when I run them into something because I cannot see over J in the car seat in the front of the cart. But I warned them not to do it because I can't see, but do they listen? No. I have no sympathy for what happens after I warn them not to do something. Does that make me a bad mom?
Today at the playground, on two occasions, I spot B pulling down his pants and underwear because he peed in the a little. Now, its not a large playground, but I'm far enough away where he can get them around his ankles before I can reach him to intervene. When I ask him if he needs to go potty..."No mom. I just peed a little." What. the. heck.? Can I get arrested if my kid keeps disrobing in public?
I must come up with a plan for these boys. Maybe it'll settle down and it will be an awesome memorable/dreamy summer, like I had as a kid. I LOVED summer. Running barefoot in the front lawn, hanging in the pool. Riding my bike for hours and hours, hanging out with the kids down the street. Disappearing for hours, returning only to eat and sleep. The one summer I hated is when my mom decided to send us to "day camp" down at the park at the end our neighborhood. It sucked. I hated it, and I think I only did it one year. It is funny to think the amount of unsupervised and unstructured time I had as a kid. I distinctly remember playing chef in the backyard with a lit citronella candle and various vegetation I found behind the shed. Maybe that would keep the boys busy for a while? Right?

Surviving

Well, the boy survived swallowing the quarter just fine. When I think about what could have happened, I shudder. I know God had protected him from much worse happening. I know that God also laid his hand on B the whole time he was in the hospital. The crazy child was so calm. Granted, I know he was in pain and that may have chilled him out, but usually, when B is in pain, he is livid. And angry. And screaming. But he just laid there and dealt with it. Didn't complain, didn't even barely talk. They put an I.V. in and he didn't sqwauk. He just complied.
I guess going to CHOP was a good thing. When I ask him if he was scared or if he didn't like the hospital, he says "No, I liked the hop-spital. I got a motorcycle and a truck and read I-Spy." They were so good to him.
The experiance for me was different. Because I'm still nursing J, I couldn't stay with B. Scott was thankfully on his way home from work when the ordeal went down and was with B for the entire time. It was really hard for me to be the one getting the text updates and to be at home getting the play by play. My frustration came out at Scott when he told me they wouldn't take out the quarter (which was lodged in his esophogas at his collar bone)till morning. I just started my ranting about it being ridiculous having to wait that long, what if it moved, what if whatever bad thing could happen happened. Scott had complete faith that B was where he needed to be and was safe and that it was no big deal that a quarter was ok lodged in ones throat. Ok, so Scott was right. But I was not there, not asking the questions, not in control and it was beyond frustrating. So, I did my best foot stomping and ranting on the phone to Scott (who did not appreciate it, and told me so). I'm not allowed to talk about the length of the endevor to Scott. But everyone I tell how long it took (18+hours) has the same reaction I do. "you'd think it would be an emergancy." is what I get, and I guess cause I wasn't the one there to be reassured, I thought it was absurd too. Anyway.
One thing about being at CHOP sorta opened my eyes. CHOP is an EXTREMELY busy hospital. Really really busy. I've never seen a busier bank of elevators, which to me is a good picture of how busy a place is. It was crowded at 10pm at night and very crowded during the day. Which made me realize, that people are there for their kids who are way worse off than a kid who swallows a quarter. They are there for a raft of terrible things that are happening to their precious babies. My heart ached for the families in the surgical waiting room. There wasn't a place to sit in that large waiting area. The pain and anxiousness in the families faces in that room was enough to break any Mama's heart. To know that I was leaving CHOP sorta laughing at the outcome of this visit, was humbling. I'm so lucky to have healthy kids, and don't need to be at a children's hospital every week, or every day. I'm not awaiting pathology reports or getting news from the doctor that they think they "got it all." Oh thank you God. I left with perspective and am praying for those families that were in that waiting room.

Don't Swallow a Quarter

At least don't swallow a quarter in my neck of the woods.
Apparently, our hospital is not equipped to get one out of a 3 year-old's throat. They must ship them to the children's hospital via ambulance 45min away. Once you are there, you must wait another 12+hours for someone to attempt to get it out.

I'm going through a list of 'should haves' and it goes something like this.
I should have:
:Scanned the boys' room for quarters before I made B take a nap today.
:Gone with my instinct to take him to the hospital in Trenton, the bad part of town. However I was scared, thinking B could choke in the car, and I didn't know EXACTLY how to get there. And I didn't want to wander around Trenton panicked and scared and freaked out.
:Requested that B be taken to St. Christopher's instead of CHOP. MAYBE, I wouldn't be sitting at home without my B, and still waiting for the quarter to be removed.
:weaned J, or somehow gotten that kid to take a bottle so I could be with my B.
:somehow had a plan for what to do when something like this happens. Thank God, it worked out that a friend of mine lives around the corner took the kids for me. I could not imagine having 3 kids in an E.R.

I Should NOT have:
:yelled at my husband because I was frustrated that they were going to keep B overnight.
:missed my exit and ended up in the bad part of town in Philly.
:freaked out at my husband for not answering the phone when I was lost in the bad part of town.

I'm all sorts of wired right now, and need to sleep, but can't. I'm just angry and frustrated (with myself and the medical professionals), scared and feeling sorry for B. He has no voice, keeps puking and is obviously in pain. But he's low priority. Not in eminent danger. Which is good I guess. But not.

My Donna Reed Moments

Way back when I was a teen or in college or sometime long long ago(when cell phones didn't exist), I thought to myself that I was born in the wrong decade. I dreamed of being a housewife/homemaker and cooking fabulous fattening things and having a spotless, beautifully decorated home. I really wanted to be Donna Reed. Truly. Now, what has happened? I live that dream, minus the spotless decorated home. Unless you count sharpie colored walls thanks to B, designer decorations, my home is NOT decorated, nor spotless in any way.
Sometimes, I long to be a professional, but that is a fleeting thought these days. I did that, I'm over it. Now I'm living the dream, but somehow, its not as glamorous as I had imagined. I do sometimes make fattening things, but most likely they are not delicious because in my haste to get dinner on the table, I skipped a step or left something important out. I seem harried most of the time and my kids are less than presentable at best most days. But hey, its still kinda cool some days to be home with the kids(some days, I want to stay in bed and pray the fairy god mother will take over).
Today, I had a very Donna Reed morning (minus the dress and pearls). It was very nice. I didn't lose my cool with anyone and we enjoyed ourselves. After I got Q off to school, I started out by getting B into the tub and out of the shirt he was wearing for more than 24 hours, and even brushed his hair. He looked so handsome. I sat with J and B as they played with Lego's side by side and I wanted to weep at how sweet B was being with J. J napped for a while, so B and I actually baked together some delicious, not so fattening, banana muffins. He actually helped and listened well, and it was a pleasure. After that, we went for a walk and to the playground. The weather was glorious. Couldn't ask for a better morning.
When Q got home from school we all ate lunch together and then got them all in for naps. My house is quiet right now. After a morning like this, I get such a joy from housework and the mundane things I do everyday. Its like, a little bit of pay off to keep me going. I am so blessed to be able to stay home with my kids. Some days it doesn't feel like a blessing, just being honest. But today was a complete joy. Thank you God for mornings like these.

The things kids say...

A couple of cute kidness.

After hearing Scott tell me how he was hit by a car as a kid, B says:
"Dad, next time you need to run faster."

After I told Q, 'I think you must have grown a foot on vacation', Q looks down at his feet as says:
"Which one?"

After getting out of the shower, B runs around without his clothes on and says:
"I'm snake-ed!" (he says this all the time.)

After using the bathroom, B often refuses to wash his hands.
"But Mom! I didn't touch my penis!"