Where Does The Blood Go?

We had pork chops on the grill yesterday for dinner. Kadin usually LOVES pork chops - it's one of his favorite meals.

He was picking at pieces of his meat when we had this conversation . . .

Kadin: I can't eat this piece Mom. It's got red stuff on it.

Me: Let me see. Oh, that's nothing honey. That's just the seasoning on the outside.

Kadin: No, maybe it's blood.

Me: No, it's not blood.

Kadin: Meat has blood in it Mom. I saw it before.

Me: Yes, you're right . . . meat does have blood in it. It only has blood when it's raw, there is no blood once it's cooked.

Kadin: Where does the blood go?

Me: Ummm . . . I'm not sure.

Kadin: Maybe when Daddy grills it, the blood goes down into the grill.

Me: Maybe.

Kadin: Then it fills up in this bag, and when the bag gets full Daddy has to put it in the garbage.

Me: That sounds like a good possibility.

I just love his imagination!

And really . . . where does the blood go?

Is It Just Me?

Or does this picture that Brian took of Phillip - the creepy neighbor boy - have a striking resemblance to . . .

Jim Carrey's character in Dumb & Dumber?

I'm just saying . . . .

Full Of Hot Air

Two weeks ago we took the kids to Wild Air. This is the second time we've been there and the first time the kids just LOVED it. Basically it is a room full of giant blown up slides and jumping houses. You pay in 1/2 hour increments and you can pay for as long as you like.

So we get there and the kids take off running over to one of the slides. Kadin and Bella appear to be having a blast just like the first time we went. As Brian and I were trying to keep on eye on both kids we realized that there seemed to be a lot less workers around than the last time we were there. What I remembered from last time was that there was at least one attendant at each activity . . . on this occasion we scarcely found one attendant on the floor at all.

As you can imagine, the rules that were put in place to keep the kids safe were now not being enforced because there was no one around to enforce them. One particular activity was this giant slide. The kids walked up 30 little steps to slide down this gigantic slide. Now the rule was that only one kid could be at the top at a time and you had to wait until the child in front of you was all the way down and off the slide before you could slide down. BUT since there was no one manning this giant death trap . . . kids were just running up those steps as fast as possible and practically all sliding down at the same time. The end of the slide looked like a bowling alley lane with kid balls flying down the lane to knock out the kid pins.

Of course Kadin and Bella are completely oblivious to this as they fight there way for a turn on the slide. I can feel my mother bear start to roar as I watch my kids getting squashed and run over. At one point an older boy - who was old enough to know better I might add - completely ran into Bella at the bottom of the slide. Let's just say that boy got a talkin' to from mama bear. Ahem . . .

At this point Brian and I are almost fed up and just want to leave. We let the kids play a little longer and Kadin goes into this netted sphere full of bouncy balls that you can throw at one another. (great idea for hyper active boys don't you think??) He's playing in there and Bella is playing in the activity right across from bouncy dodge ball. My attention was diverted between watching Kadin to make sure he didn't get pummeled with balls to watching Bella to make sure she didn't wander off somewhere.

I noticed out of the corner of my eye a small commotion coming from the bouncy dodge ball area. I looked over to see that bouncy dodge ball enclosed sphere is deflating . . . and the small door, which happens to be the only visible escape hatch, is being sucked closed by the walls that are caving in around it. One mother was frantically trying to pull the door open while another mother was pulling kids out like it was a fire and rescue mission. I was horrified - oh and I probably should mention that there was a limit of 6 children inside said bouncy dodge ball sphere, but because apparently no one was working that day there were probably 15 kids in there.

It was pretty much at that point when the dodge ball sphere lay on the floor in a heap of vinyl that we decided it was time to head out. We made our way to the lobby to collect the kids' jackets and shoes when we quickly realized that the kids' shoes were no where to be found. Oh yeah . . . as if this couldn't get any worse.

After scouring every place I could think of to look . . . I finally broke up a most certainly entertaining conversation that two employees were having as they chatted away and were totally oblivious that we had been searching for our children's shoes for almost 15 minutes . . .

I was asked to provide a thorough description of the shoes, just in case I was trying to switch my kids' lame shoes for a much more sophisticated pair . . . they were finally found in someone's party room. Hallelujah!!!

Shoes on feet - Check
Coats on bodies - Check
Keeping my cool - ummm . . . not so much

Pete & Repeat

Brian: Kadin I have a joke for you . . .

Kadin: Yeah?

Brian: Pete and Repeat were in a store. Pete came out - who was left?

Kadin: Long pause. Repeat . . . ?

Brian: Pete and Repeat were in a store. Pete came out - who was left?

Kadin: Repeat.

Brian: Pretending like he's getting annoyed. Pete and Repeat were in a store. Pete came out - who was left?

Kadin: Starting to laugh. Repeat!

Brian: Pretending like he's completely annoyed. Pete and Repeat were in a store. Pete came out - who was left?!?!

Kadin: Laughing hysterically. REPEAT!!!

Brian: Kadin, I am getting really tired of you asking me to repeat this!

Kadin: Oh . . . . I get it . . . . it's a joke!

Brian: Yup - do you get it?

Kadin: Yeah . . . no one was left!

Here's The Deal . . .

I'm in a funk. I'm crabby and irritable and just plain not thrilled about life these days. Each night I try and think of something funny to write about - or some story to tell and nothing comes.

I'm tired of complaining about my job and well just plain tired.

I went to dinner last week with some ladies I worked with at JP. It was an end to a particularly grueling day at work and just what I thought I needed. I got to the restaurant (late of course) and joined in the conversation and drinks.

I have to admit that upon arrival I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. I thought about how crappy my job was and about how unhappy I was. So I started to listen to the stories of two of the ladies I was with. They both are currently unemployed and they were discussing how difficult the last several months had been. They discussed how costly health insurance was for them and how one of them would not have been able to afford their winter heating bill if it wasn't for the kindness of their mother.

Wow . . . it's amazing how different those stories sound when you are sitting with your friends and they are telling them. Sure, I hate my job . . . but at least I can provide for my family and at least my job is stable. I can't imagine what it must feel like to not be able to pay your bills! I was struck as I listened to this professional woman describe her endless days of searching for a job that doesn't seem to exist and the toll it has taken on her spirit.

I got up this morning dreading the return of the work week. I sat in bed with the phone clutched in my hand - fingers waiting to dial with some excuse as to why I couldn't return . . . bad migraine, the flu, my child was sick, anything so I wouldn't have to face another Monday and another five days of hell. As I sat there I started to think about those two ladies . . . they would kill for my job . . . heck for any job . . . it wasn't my right to feel that way - it wasn't fair.

So - I dragged my sorry butt out of bed and met Monday head on. Adios Monday . . . until we meet again.

Just A Toddler, Not Yet A Boy

Kadin seems to be growing up so fast that sometimes I forget he is still little. He has become much more independent since he's started school and just seems so grown up to me . . . then something will happen that reminds me of how small and fragile he can still be.

About a week ago I was putting the kids to bed and I had just left Kadin's room after saying my "good night's" and "I love you's". He was only in his room maybe two minutes and he came out into the kitchen crying. At first I thought he was just playing a game with me so I laughed a little and asked him what could possibly make him so upset in two minutes??

He tearfully told me that he didn't want to die, didn't want me to die or Daddy to die either. "You aren't going to die are you Mommy?" His eyes were welling up with tears as I scooped him into my arms. I took him back to his room and held him for awhile on his bed. He wrapped his arms so tightly around my neck and I rubbed his back as we rocked back & forth.

Just a couple nights ago it happened again. We put Kadin to bed and five minutes later he was standing in the living room. I asked him what was wrong . . . and he said that he was thinking about scary things again.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked him.

"I was thinking about that time I went down that blue water slide, and about getting shots, and about you and Daddy dying."

At this point his little voice started to quiver as he stood in front of me and instantly I saw my boy transform into my little baby again. I scooped him up again and took him to his room. He held on tightly to my neck as we sat on his bed together. I just rocked him, listening to him breathe and I told him how much Daddy and I loved him and how he never needed to be afraid of anything.

As I sat there I started to think . . . about how much I was going to miss those times. Those times when he just needed Mommy to hold him and cuddle with him . . . how he had already grown up too fast. I sat frozen in that one moment, there in the low light of his bedroom just the sound of his clock ticking and his warm breathe on my neck. All the while I wondered if maybe that would be one of the last times I would hold him like that.

It was so strange . . . I became so emotional that it actually surprised me. So many times I wished for him to be a boy . . . now I just want him to stay a toddler just a little bit longer . . . to hold on to those days with both hands and try like hell not to let him grow.

Fifteen In Three

That is the number of loads of laundry that were done over the span of three days. Apparently when you get three sick people all carrying the flu virus you certainly can dirty 15 loads of laundry. Of course some of it is just because I felt so dirty that I needed to throw almost everything in sight in the laundry basket, but still . . .

So here's the deal. I don't mind doing laundry. In fact in some sick way, I find it almost therapeutic. It is the one chore around this house that I do all the time without complaint . . . even ask Brian . . . he would tell you the same thing. In fact I enjoy doing the laundry so much that I sometimes become possessive of it. I have issues when Brian tries to help because - well let's just be honest here - he doesn't do it right. I have even bigger issues when the kids try and help because - honestly if I don't think Brian does it right, the kids most certainly do not do it right.

So . . . I get home from work on Friday and I noticed that all the hampers were empty. GASP Brian had done the laundry . . . instead of cuddling our sick daughter and tending to her needs, he chose to do the laundry instead - I mean who does that??? Ahem

I went about my evening tending to the kids and putting them to bed (Brian was chaperoning a dance at school). It wasn't until late in the evening that I actually entered our bedroom. Holy hell . . . what a sight to behold. It was like the hamper blew up and spit out the clothes all over our bedroom. There was clothes hanging in the doorways, pants draped over the doors, clothes all over the bed, clothes on the floor.

As I looked around I began to notice something strange. The only clothes I could see of Brian's were ones that were obviously wet and hanging up to dry . . . HOWEVER . . . my clothes were everywhere . . . wet, dry, folded, hanging. That's when it hit me . . . he put all of his dry, folded clothes away nicely where they belonged and left mine all sitting in a heap on the bed.

What?!?! Let me tell you . . . I had a serious talk. I sat those clothes right down and told them that the next time my wonderful husband decides to take it upon himself to do the laundry, fold them up and place them in my drawers . . . to NOT sneakily climb out when he's not looking and heap themselves up on the bed!! Really . . .

Two Posts In One Day?

I know, I know . . . you'd think I had nothing better to do . . .

My kids just said some of the cutest things today, and if I don't document them somewhere then I will forget . . .

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Bella was sitting on my lap in the rocking chair. She said she was thirsty.

Me: Well your drink is right over there on the floor. Why don't you go and get it?

Bella: No!

Me: Why not? Are you being a lazy girl?

Bella: No, I am glued.

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We were eating macaroni and cheese for lunch. Brian put pepper on his and Kadin was proceeding to put some pepper on his as well.

Bella: Daddy - you have pepper on your macaroni and cheese! Pepperoni on your macaroni and cheese!

Me: Pepperoni?? Did you say pepperoni?

Bella: Yeah . . . Daddy put pepperoni on his macaroni and cheese!

Kadin: Sweetie, it's pepper.

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The kids and I decided to make oatmeal raisin cookies. I was getting the mixer out, putting the beaters in so we could mix the ingredients in the bowl. One of the beaters fell out of the mixer and landed with a loud bang on the counter.

Me: Woah! That wasn't supposed to happen was it?

Kadin: Well, let me check the recipe . . .

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Kadin and I were having a discussion about school, which I have to say in itself is awesome because I can never seem to get him to talk about school. So he was telling me about some of his friends and who he spends the most time with.

So I questioned him about this girl named Vanessa, simply because it is a name I've heard him use several times.

Me: So Kadin, do you play with Vanessa a lot?

Kadin: No. Why?

Me: Well I hear you mention her name a lot so I thought that you must play with her.

Kadin: No I don't like to play with her because everyday she has boogers in her nose. Every day when I see her she has a booger right here (pointing to a spot right under his nostril) and she never blows her nose! It is annoying.

The Worst Week Ever

I think the universe is playing a sick joke on me. It's taken my sweet lively little girl and turned her into a lethargic sniffling little mess.

Let's see . . . . it all started . . . . cue the fog and mist (you know like in a movie flashback?!? C'mon people!) Monday night . . . . Bella woke up crying saying she puked. She spent the next several hours ridding her stomach of all its contents and has succeeded in puking at least two times every single day since.

We are now on day five of this nightmare. She has scarcely eaten more than two crackers and a couple nibbles of bread each day and spends most of her time laying on the couch barely speaking. Her sweet smile has been replaced with a sullen stare and I long for my baby girl to have that bounce in her step and that twinkle in her eye again!

Brian took her to the doctor on Thursday because we started getting concerned that she was dehydrated. The doctor said that she looked surprisingly good considering she had been puking since Monday. She sent Brian home with some tips on how to get Bella to keep some fluids down and how to slowly work some solids into her recent diet of nothing.

It just broke my heart to hear my baby tell me she was hungry and then watch her take one bite and want nothing more to do with her food. I don't know how a person so small can go without eating for so many days! Then she would ask me for pudding or cheese (both things she LOVES) and when I'd tell her that she couldn't have those things . . . she would just cry. It was so horrible!!

I have to say that until this morning I was starting to get very concerned that perhaps this wasn't just a flu bug . . . I can't describe how hard it was for us to watch her feeling so miserable for so long and not being able to do anything to help her.

But, today is a new day . . . and today I am convinced that we are kicking this flu bug's butt right out of this house for good. And even though that twinkle is still not quite in those baby blue eyes . . . I am seeing glimpses of my spunky girl that I haven't seen in days.

So - suck on that flu bug . . . you are not welcome here anymore.

Forty-Five Minutes

That's how long it took for my son to decide if he wanted vanilla or chocolate pudding today. No joke. I'm pretty sure he was convinced that this would hands-down be the hardest decision he would have to make in his life. I actually heard him talking to himself about the differences between the two - hilarious.

To be honest, if I wasn't distracted by trying to get my flu-stricken daughter to eat more than one tiny noodle for lunch . . . I think Kadin's 45 minute production would have probably sent me into a yelling frenzy . . . instead I just tried to ignore him until he could make up his mind.

He did finally pick vanilla - then proceeded to only eat half of it because, as he explained it to me, he obviously made the wrong choice. I know some parents would probably just cave in and give him that chocolate pudding . . . not me. Maybe I'm just sadistic like that . . . . oh yeah, or maybe I'd like to try and teach him that he needs to stick with the choices he makes . . . even if it is only a matter of pudding.

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Much to my pleasure the flu bug has hit our house full force. It's times like these that I'm just so thankful that winter is long and freezing and full of colds, coughs and germs galore! Did I say thankful??? Yeah - scratch that! I knew there was no way we were getting through a Wisconsin winter with only a couple of runny noses and annoying coughs. That would just be way too lucky . . . neither kid has really had more than a small cold . . . we were due.

Everywhere I turn there are mounds of dirty sheets and clothes with puke on them . . . underwear in the trash from those uncontrollable accidents - and it wasn't from one of the kids if you know what I mean! I feel like I need to buy a gallon of bleach and sterilize my entire house . . . the only problem is I feel crappy and all I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep - in between the mounds of dirty germ-ridden sheets of course.

The only good thing to come out of this is that I've only spent one full day at work this week and I've basically only eaten a small bowl of chicken soup in the last day and a half. Who needs the gym to lose weight when you can have a stomach virus!! I guess the flu can be good for something right?