The Older You Get

It's funny when you get older how birthdays begin to take on a different meaning. Brian and I try very hard to make sure our kids have enjoyable birthdays. We want their whole day to feel special and important . . . yet when we are older . . . we tend to not bother having a cake or party . . . it's just one more year older right?

Brian celebrated his 31st year yesterday. It was for him like many birthdays are for people our age - just another ordinary day. No bells, no whistles . . . just another day of work and daycare and carpooling.

We had the whole evening to ourselves . . . we could've done anything we wanted . . .

What did we do??

We went out to dinner and rented some movies. AND - I'm fairly certain that the highlight of Brian's birthday eve was going to the video store and finding out you get a free rental on your birthday. SCORE!!

Happy Birthday Brian! Thanks for enjoying the "little" things in our life!

Oompa Loompas & Some Shots Too

Randomness.

That's what you're going to get people, just some random thoughts that are floating around in my head. So, if you're looking for a well thought out story - you're out of luck! Besides, isn't randomness the new . . . . oh - who am I kidding??

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Tonight my kids are possessed . . . by the crabby monster. I've heard more crying and complaining tonight than I've heard in days. "I want fruit snacks - whaaa!" "I want to watch cartoons - whaaa!" "I don't want those jammies, I want these jammies - whaaa!" Now imagine all of that in a whiney, fingernails on a chalkboard kind of voice. That's what I've heard since I picked them up . . . whaaa, whaaa . . . I want, I want . . . . throw in some random fighting and you've got one jolly-good evening.

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I've got some good news and some bad news . . .

The good news is that I have the morning off of work . . .

The bad news? I have to take Kadin to the doctor. Yeah - I know at first it doesn't sound so bad . . . after all it's just a well-child visit . . . you know make sure the munchkin is developing and stuff like that. HOWEVER . . . let me tell you a little story about Kadin . . . when it comes to details this kid has a memory like a steel trap. LAST year . . . oh yes - I did write last year . . . we took him for his four year well-child visit and our doctor (bless his heart) made the fatal mistake of telling me that this time Kadin wouldn't receive any shots because next year he would get quite a few.

Well Kadin has burned that fatal sentence into his brain from the day we left that office, AND has even brought it up on numerous occasions since that visit one year ago. So tonight on the way home I informed him that tomorrow we would be going to the doctor so he can get his check-up. Can you guess the question that came out of his mouth???? Oh come on, just guess . . . "Am I going to get a shot????"

Well I too remember that comment the doctor made, BUT I can't tell Kadin that. So I answered this question like I do every time he has asked it . . . I lie . . . "I'm not sure buddy." Sue me.

Does anyone remember this post? Let me set the stage . . . flu shot, screaming, thrashing, hysterics . . . now you know why I'm soooo looking forward to this.

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We are eating dinner yesterday and Kadin starts telling us a story about how Cinda (his babysitter) has a "new" Charlie and the Chocolate Factory movie that they watched. He was explaining how it was different from the other Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that he has seen. So Brian and I are kind of looking at each other wondering if he's talking about the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with Johnny Depp as Willy Wonka. Personally I think Johnny Depp is creepy in that movie - great acting job, but just creepy . . . and I would think that if I was a little kid and watched that . . . I would be creeped out.

So I ask Kadin what was different about this version and he said that in the movie he watched Willy Wonka was a girl. Hmmm . . . could Johnny Depp with his weird hair and lipstick appear to be female to a five-year old boy?

So I prodded Kadin some more and I asked him if Willy Wonka had short straight black hair as I pointed out the length on my own head. He excitedly said "Yes! That's what she looked like!!"

I guess I can understand.

Life Is A Balancing Act

I work in the crappiest place. So much is expected out of you, yet you don't get any help or encouragement . . . it's a living nightmare. I came home for lunch yesterday and cried . . . how did I end up in this place . . . where did things go so drastically wrong?? I remember vividly the day I got this job . . . I was so excited! In fact I posted this very post . . . what happened to that feeling?


I've been feeling very sorry for myself lately, and I've found it hard to even fake a smile when people come around and ask me how things are going. I dread going to work . . . isn't that a completely horrible thing to say? But every single day I wake up and shudder at the thought of spending another day in that place. A place where people put in unimaginable amounts of hours yet seem to accomplish nothing.

And as I was wallowing in my self-pity I kept thinking about how bad I had it. Poor me . . . having two small children and being forced to try and balance the long hours at work with spending time with my family . . . and then today I realized something. You don't have to have kids to feel torn about where to spend your time . . . and there are many people there with either no children or grown children that deal with the same pressure that I do.


I was working with a girl today who is newly married - just over a year . . . and she was discussing how unhappy her husband gets when she has to work late. She worked late on Monday, yesterday she was at the office until after 8:00 p.m. and it was 4:45 when our boss came in and asked her how late she could stay tonight. When our boss left . . . this look of sadness fell across her face and she said how much she dreaded calling her husband and telling him she was going to miss dinner again tonight.


She called him as we were working and she got off the phone and tears were welling up in her eyes. He was mad . . . and so she made the decision that for this moment in time, her husband was going to come first . . . so she went to our boss and told her that tonight she had to be home by six. Well, now the boss was mad . . . and the frustration sets in . . .


How do you choose???? Your husband, your family . . . or your job??? Why does it have to be a choice??? It angers me to think of all the time I spend feeling guilty about spending so much time away from my husband and children and yet I also feel guilty like I'm somehow letting people down at work if I don't stay.


I have never in my working years walked off a job . . . but I have come damn close the last several weeks. In a way I guess it's poetic justice for me . . . I complained and complained about how much I couldn't wait until my boss was on maternity leave; now she is gone and all I wish is that she would come back - to ease some of this burden that has been placed on me.


So for now I will continue to be the juggler who balances plates on those little sticks . . . and hope like hell one doesn't fall and shatter.

To My Son

Dear Kadin,

Today I celebrate the day God made me your mother and forever changed my life. The day I began living not only for myself but for this tiny, helpless little being . . . you.

Five years ago today at 5:10 p.m. your tiny body was placed on my chest as you cried your first cries and took your first breath. It was one of the most amazing moments of my life . . . and as I stared in wonder at the sight of you, and at the sight of your daddy's tears . . . I couldn't imagine how I got so lucky.

Although you are too young to understand the depths of how much I love you, it seems to me you have already grown too old. I miss the feel of your body in my arms as I would rock you to sleep . . . the warmth of you laying on my chest . . . the sounds of you cooing. Oh how I wish you could stay young for just a bit longer, before you become even more independent and the influences of the world creep their way into your life.

I have so many hopes and dreams for your future and so many worries for your safety. Five years ago I would have never imagined the amount of love I could feel for another individual. You have completely stolen my heart Kadin - and even now when I look into those five-year old brown eyes . . . I can still see my baby boy staring back at me.

Thank you Kadin . . . for allowing me the opportunity to be your mommy. I am so proud of you . . . how much you have learned and grown in these five years. I love your sense of humor and the sound of your laughter that fills this house . . . your energetic spirit and your boundless imagination. I love you for how much you have taught me about myself . . . and how you've made me realize how much growing up I still have to do. I only hope I can be the type of mother you deserve.

I love you Kadin. May you stay as innocent as the day you were born, and Happy Birthday buddy!

The Kindness Of Strangers

So I think I officially had one of the most embarrassing nights of my adult life. A lady that I used to work with invited me to her husband's retirement party. Well she actually invited all of us, but I didn't think Brian really wanted to go and I kind of just wanted to go myself and catch up with some of the ladies I used to work with without the hassle of chasing my children around.

So I get there and I catch up with some old friends (it was really great to see you Cheri!) and I had a good time. I figured I wouldn't stay long, but wanted to go and make an appearance. I'm getting ready to leave and I'm saying my good-bye's . . . I pat my coat pocket where I always keep my keys. Hmmm . . . they are not there. Ok - so maybe I put them in my purse . . . but you see the thing is I didn't remember putting them in my purse . . . or my coat pocket for that matter. As I frantically start checking all the places my keys could possibly be . . . I come to the conclusion that my keys are locked inside my truck.

No big deal right . . . just have Brian come and get me . . . oh yeah - we don't live in Iola anymore and my husband and any chance of getting home are 35 minutes away! Oh . . . and for some completely stupid reason . . . this is the ONLY set of keys we have for the truck. I'm figuring out pretty quick that this situation is less than stellar . . . here I am in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by people I don't really know all that well and I am at their mercy to help me somehow get my keys from inside my truck.

I really hate to admit this, but tonight really proved to me how completely helpless I am. I had no clue what to do . . . I am one of those women . . . you know the ones who can't change a tire, or fix a leaky faucet . . . I am completely and totally 100% dependant on my husband and it kills me to say that! So of course I pick up my cell phone and called Brian . . .

Brian: Hello?

Me: Ummm . . . you're not going to believe this but I locked the keys in the truck.

Brian: What??? How did you do that?

Me: Well I was getting David's retirement card together and I must have set them on the seat. I got out of the truck and locked the doors by hand and left . . . I didn't even realize I didn't have my keys.

Brian: grumble, grumble . . . who locks their doors by hand??? That's what you have the keys for!! Those are our only set!

Me: I realize that! What should I do?

Brian: silence . . . . I'm not sure - I'll have to think for a minute and call you back.

So in the meantime I go back inside and find my friend and tell her what happened. She gets her son to go outside armed with a coat hanger to try and unlock my truck. Keep in mind it is FREEZING outside and here is this poor man trying his hardest to unlock my doors. Some time passes and we are still sitting in the dark, in the freezing cold however the one man trying to free my locked keys turns into three slightly intoxicated burly young men trying to free my locked keys.

AND as if this isn't embarrassing enough for me . . . we head back inside the bar to "take a piss" as the one man so eloquently put it and as I follow my three rescuers back inside the bar . . . I completely miss this small step up to get in the door and absolutely positively fall completely on - oh no not my ass - my FACE. Yup . . . totally wipe it right there in the doorway as patrons look at me like I must be the drunkest person they've seen all night.

OMG!!!!! How does that even happen???? Thank the lord my purse was closed otherwise all my belongings would have been strewn across the snow covered entrance and all I could think of was me on my hands and knees picking up my emergency pad and tampon off the ground . . .

So - several more failed attempts later and my burly young men were successful and my keys were placed in my slightly frozen little hand. Oh - and did I mention that my piece of junk cell phone battery died during this ordeal as well??

But seriously - how cool is it that three people who really didn't have a clue who in the heck I was would freeze their butts off just to help a damsel in distress . . . and it wasn't like they just quickly went outside and then came back in . . . we were probably out there a good hour before we were able to successfully break in the truck.

Dan, Dean and mystery guy that I don't know your name - THANK YOU! Thank you, thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart . . . your help tonight means more to me than you will ever know.

It's good to be home . . . and tomorrow I'm going to Walmart to make a spare key!

What The Cold Brings

So we're in the middle of a deep freeze. You step outside and your eyes water, your snot freezes to your nose, and it feels like you can't take a deep breathe. I guess that's what 30 below zero feels like! The cold truly brings some crappy things . . . like having to warm up your car before you go anywhere, or having to wrap up every single part of your body before venturing outside.

However . . . the cold does bring some good things too. Since winter has graced us with her cold temperatures and short days . . . we have not seen the neighbor kids very much. They went from virtually living at our house all summer . . . to maybe coming over once or twice every two weeks. I have to admit . . . it's been a nice reprieve . . . I almost forgot how creepy and weird Phillip is . . . almost . . . until Monday of this week.

You see Monday I stayed home from work. I spent the day in my pajamas doing absolutely nothing. I slept in late, watched some daytime television, took a bubble bath, and recuperated from my terrible week. So I was home by myself, sitting downstairs messing around on the computer and I kept hearing these strange noises coming from upstairs. It almost sounded like someone was knocking on the door or banging around up there.

This disturbed me slightly since I was well aware I was supposed to be alone. So I headed upstairs and stood in my kitchen and listened. Sure enough there was the sound again . . . banging, knocking . . . like someone was trying to get inside our house.

I go over to the door that leads to our deck . . . and I discover the source of the noise. There in the thigh-high snow was Phillip . . . standing in our yard right next to our house . . . digging in the Rubbermaid toy box we left outside. He finds Kadin's toy gun . . . snatches it . . . and proceeds to take it over to his own house.

I'm well aware that Phillip knows we are not home - or at least he thinks we're not home. And as I'm standing there watching him in our yard, digging through our stuff . . . I'm not the least bit surprised or shocked. This kid is just too weird for words . . .

Rest & Relaxation

I'm not sure how much rest & relaxation you can get with two toddlers, but this weekend was as close as I'm going to get. Really, who am I kidding . . . the fact that I didn't have to work for two FULL days was the best rest & relaxation I could ask for! It was AWESOME!!

We had dinner with some friends of ours on Saturday night. It was the first time we had gone out together "childless" in a LONG time . . . so long I can't even remember if I'm being honest. So we were joking around about how strange it was that we could actually carry on a conversation with each other without being interrupted with countless questions, breaking up of fights and easing crying little ones. During said un-interrupted conversation the question was posed as to what filled our time before we had kids???

Hmmm . . . an interesting thought . . . . what did I do with the many hours in my day when I had no children??? The concept now seems so foreign to me that I'm thinking I must have been incredibly lazy and watched a lot of TV and took a lot of naps because I know I didn't cook, I didn't have this blog to fill my time, I certainly wasn't crafty. What the heck did I do???

Ok - so I may not be able to tell you what I used to do . . . but I can certainly tell you what I did do yesterday . . .

I watched Bella dump an entire container of over 100 crayons on the floor. When I asked her why she dumped them she said she was looking for a marble. Sure . . . I often find marbles hidden in the crayon container . . . perfect reason . . . and then because I was too lazy to pick them up - in my defense we were coloring with them . . . I further watched her sit, walk on, and crack said crayons.

I discovered that Kadin has a new word in his vocabulary . . . awesome!!! Can't imagine where he learned that from - wink, wink . . . but I noticed him using it multiple times yesterday. When I asked him where he learned that word from . . . he right away said "I don't know" like I just caught him saying the f-word.

Oh - Speaking of the f-word . . . . Bella was being a little . . . ummm . . . difficult . . . and Brian called her an f-stain under his breath. Kadin came into the kitchen laughing and saying "Daddy just called Bella an f-stain!" How do you not just crack up at that . . . . oh, I know . . . the thought of your four-year-old calling his very religious anti-profanity babysitter that . . . that's how. I guess it wasn't so "under his breath" after all.

My kids LOVE this . . . and they LOVE to sing it . . . AND for Christmas, they made Santa's that sing this . . . which my kids discovered on clearance at Wal-Mart and decided they were going to keep pushing ALL the buttons on ALL the Santa's so they could hear ALL of them play at the same time. It was great . . .




Why would Santa even sing that??? I guess that's why they were on clearance.

Kadin has a couple of dot-to-dot and maze books. He really loves doing mazes and he's really good at it. So during our marathon coloring session I got out these maze and dot-to-dot books because I thought Kadin would enjoy doing them. Well, apparently his maze book came with a page of little stickers . . . which it just so happened that at Wal-mart earlier in the day (please see above description of Wal-mart visit) Bella kept begging for - of all things - stickers. So she saw these stickers and went nuts!

Now, Kadin is pretty good at sharing. He will share with Bella most of the time. So Bella asks for two stickers - pink ones - and he politely gives them to her. Two minutes later she looses one . . . asks for another sticker . . . Kadin hands over another one - this time a rainbow with a cloud. But - it doesn't stop there . . . Bella is like a drug addict that just needs one more fix and when Kadin won't give her anymore stickers . . . she does the unthinkable . . . . . . . she waits until he is distracted playing tic-tac-toe with Mom and then she does it . . . . . . she swipes that maze book and sits in the corner happily pulling off little stickers to her hearts content and sticking them all over her legs.

I won't tell you about the fight that ensued once Kadin discovered half his stickers gone . . .

So, that's what my day was like yesterday . . . just a typical day with the kids, hanging out in the house keeping warm . . . it was AWESOME!! wink, wink

What A Week

I wish I had some funny, witty story to tell you about my kids and family, but I feel like I've barely seen them. It's even hard for me to keep track of what stinking day it is!!! Work life just really sucks . . . So it has officially been the l o n g e s t week of my working life. As of today I already have 51 hours of work in since last Friday and tomorrow will mark the seventh day in a row I have worked.

You see, my boss is a control freak. I have discussed this before . . . I have been employed at my current job for 7 months. For the first 4 all I did was download spreadsheets and make file folder labels . . . oh - and copies too. I quickly realized that it was much easier for my boss to give me all the crappy "busy" work . . . than to take the time to actually show me things to do that would require an actual brain or a working knowledge of accounting.

About a month after I started we all found out she was pregnant. She then informed me that she had this "plan" to show me everything she does so when she went out on maternity leave I would be all set. Ummmm . . . well you can certainly do the math . . . that really never happened.

Fast forward 6 months and she ends up having to deliver her baby two months early and now she is out for an undetermined amount of time . . . leaving me and all her other subordinates scrambling for our lives.

I am so angry at this woman!!!! And - before you even say it - I feel horrible for feeling angry. Here this poor woman had to deliver a 3lb 10oz baby . . . two months early . . . with toxemia so bad they still can't get her blood pressure under control . . . . and all I want to do is yell at her. I want to freaking reach through the phone and slap some sense into her controlling, anal, perfectionist little head . . . . ahem . . . and I hear her through the receiver apologizing for how bad she feels about leaving us with so many things unsettled . . . and I'm so mad and frustrated that I can't even hear what she's saying.

I spent 7 hours yesterday trying to figure out how to make ONE month end entry. ONE . . . that was my entire day . . . and that probably wouldn't suck so bad, but that has been the story of pretty much every day since she's left. This woman did everything . . . she had to be involved in everything so now everything is falling on my coworkers and myself. Which that alone would be a challenge, but factor in that she didn't really show us how to do much of anything . . . we are floundering like fish out of water. I woke up last night at 1:30 a.m. thinking about all the stuff I have to accomplish before tomorrow . . . my mind wouldn't shut off . . .

My mind is so tired that I can barely function and by the time I get home at night I end up falling asleep in the chair or on the couch because I am so exhausted. I am completely mentally and emotionally drained . . . . I find myself just wishing I could have one whole day to myself . . . to stay in my pj's and curl up with a blanket . . . watch some horrible daytime TV and just piss an entire day away.

But - not tomorrow, because there is work to be done . . . entries to ponder . . . nervous breakdowns to be had. The only thing that keeps me sane is my absolutely fabulous partner in crime Gina (I love you Gina!!!) who has helped me make some serious lemonade out of some rotten old lemons. She makes me laugh until I cry . . . and that's exactly what I need.

BIG Disappointment

You know when you've waited and waited for something that you thought would be so cool . . . and then when you get it . . . it sucks?? Maybe it was that one toy you saved your allowance for and when you finally had enough money to get it . . . you discovered the toy just wasn't that great . . .

Kadin saw Santa three or four times over the Christmas season. Each time he saw Santa he was sure to tell him that he wanted Pixos for Christmas. This is the one thing he truly wanted and the one thing that Brian and I made sure someone was getting for him.

So Christmas Eve night Kadin is opening his presents and much to his delight he opens Pixos which Grandma and Grandpa B graciously made sure to buy. He was so excited to start using his Pixos . . . he begged for the box to be opened and then he begged for the batteries to be placed inside. He was just a flutter with excitement . . . he actually had a hard time sitting still . . .

First, let me begin by explaining what Pixos actually is . . . .

Remember when we were kids and they had those little plastic pieces that you'd make patterns with and then iron them? The plastic would melt together and your creation was forever stuck together? Well that is what Pixos basically is except there is no "dangerous" ironing and the plastic pieces are replaced with teeny, tiny plastic balls. Did I mention they are teeny tiny???

So basically what you do is follow these patterns and place these teeny tiny balls on the patterns, spray them with water and set them under a fan to dry. When it's dry . . . ta dah . . . you have your creation forever stuck together . . . . . . did I mention that the balls are really, really, teeny tiny?? Oh . . . . yeah I guess I did.

Seriously . . . . these balls are so teeny tiny that my big fingers - which for an adult woman I don't even think I have very big fingers - cannot pick them up or move them without creating a disaster. So you can imagine how easy it is for an almost five year old to do it . . .

Several temper tantrums later . . . oh and Kadin had a few too . . . we have yet to make a creation that has stayed together.

Tonight I thought I'd give it another try . . . so I sprayed and dried . . . tried to pry my creation off the plastic holder . . . broke . . . . sprayed and dried again (this time dried a little longer) . . . . pried off plastic holder . . . broke again. UGGHHH!!!

To the makers of Pixos:

I'm not sure if you've ever actually used your product . . . or if you've ever successfully gotten those teeny tiny balls to "magically" stick together . . . but I can confidently say that after struggling to make just one creation - unsuccessfully I might add . . . I would have much rather spent the $40 on thousands of plastic pieces and taken my chances with the iron.

Even though my hand was wrapped from a second degree burn . . . I at least had my little plastic sun to show for it!!!

Sincerely,

Perplexed with Pixos

P.S - This is what my son thinks of Pixos . . . . and I quote . . . "I want to smash that machine."