Today (with the help of Grandma) we found a new, wonderful park. It's really more of a path than a park, but it is beautiful! It winds through Anchorage, over bridges, under trees, through fields. We took Parker's bike and Maddie's stroller, and they had a blast! Parker asked, "Mommy, why is my hair wet?" He's never worked up a sweat like that in his life. We had walked/biked for over an hour and a half.
Next it was on to Aldi. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this store, it is a food store with no frills. Kind of like a mini-Sam's Club. Bring your own grocery bags, pay with cash or debit. I hadn't been to one in years, since they weren't generally located in the cities where we had been living. We still don't live close (about a 20 minute drive), but I decided to check it out with the kids anyway. I was pleasantly surprised by the very low prices.
When we finished, the kids were exhausted. I let Parker put his $.89 bag of mini-marshmallows on the conveyor belt. He was so excited. Then it happened. My darn debit card wouldn't work! It's not the first time. I know my PIN, but for some reason, my Wells Fargo card refuses to work as a debit card except at bank ATMs. I paid what money I had (only $20 in cash) and started removing non essentials. Bye-bye marshmallows. Hello melt-down.
Of course the cashier had to call the manager to verify the changed amount. The line grew behind me. How do such small lungs produce such incredible volume?
I trudged outside, one screaming child, one whining baby, loaded down with groceries. As I was strapping Parker into his seat, the manager came rushing out of the store, clutching the bag of mini-marshmallows.
"You didn't have to do -"
"I've been there," she said.
Wow. Thank you, angel of mercy. Thank God for compassionate people. She made our day.
7/14/10
7/8/10
Van Stank
Our van has a particular odor. I like to call it "stank." To say that it "stinks" doesn't adequately capture the true nature of this home-grown funk.
In Seattle, where the weather was often cool, I would only get occasional whiffs. However, once we moved to the humid South, there was no denying it's presence. I tried to blame it on the cross country move, as we had accidentally left two sippy cups of milk and two wet diapers in the back while it made the two week trip to our new home. Whew!
I removed the offending items, Febreezed the whole thing, and left the windows down for days. But it was still there...the Stank.
I used every cleaning product imaginable on the carpets. I assumed the odor was emitting from there, since that is where milk, juice and everything else is spilled all the time. Then I realized I could peel some of the carpet back. What I found below was beyond disgusting.
There is some kind of padding beneath the carpet that looks like the unfortunate love child of dryer lint and a ball of colored yarn. I think it is supposed to be mostly gray. Ours was green, yellow, gray, black and wet. It reeked. I figure it has probably been wet for a few years, growing mold and heaven knows what else. Things simply don't dry out in the Seattle climate, and this mess hadn't dried out in the humid weeks we'd been home either.
I tried not to vomit, figuring that would only make the mess worse, and got to work. Bleach and Kentucky sunshine - a magical combination.
I think the Stank is gone. Of course, I also have a sinus infection that prevents me from smelling anything. Aaron tells me it doesn't smell "bad" anymore. Of course, that doesn't mean it smells good, either. I trust my husband, but just to be sure, I've been watching his face when he gets in to drive on weekends. He doesn't grimace anymore. I'll take that as a good sign.
In Seattle, where the weather was often cool, I would only get occasional whiffs. However, once we moved to the humid South, there was no denying it's presence. I tried to blame it on the cross country move, as we had accidentally left two sippy cups of milk and two wet diapers in the back while it made the two week trip to our new home. Whew!
I removed the offending items, Febreezed the whole thing, and left the windows down for days. But it was still there...the Stank.
I used every cleaning product imaginable on the carpets. I assumed the odor was emitting from there, since that is where milk, juice and everything else is spilled all the time. Then I realized I could peel some of the carpet back. What I found below was beyond disgusting.
There is some kind of padding beneath the carpet that looks like the unfortunate love child of dryer lint and a ball of colored yarn. I think it is supposed to be mostly gray. Ours was green, yellow, gray, black and wet. It reeked. I figure it has probably been wet for a few years, growing mold and heaven knows what else. Things simply don't dry out in the Seattle climate, and this mess hadn't dried out in the humid weeks we'd been home either.
I tried not to vomit, figuring that would only make the mess worse, and got to work. Bleach and Kentucky sunshine - a magical combination.
I think the Stank is gone. Of course, I also have a sinus infection that prevents me from smelling anything. Aaron tells me it doesn't smell "bad" anymore. Of course, that doesn't mean it smells good, either. I trust my husband, but just to be sure, I've been watching his face when he gets in to drive on weekends. He doesn't grimace anymore. I'll take that as a good sign.
6/30/10
Suave
Parker has about as much finesse as a water buffalo. When he sees something he wants, he goes for it...full speed ahead.
Parker met many people when we visited Kentucky during the holidays, but since we've moved home, he's had the opportunity to really get to know them. He was recently re-introduced to his uncle's girlfriend, Hillary. She is darling - young, blond, beautiful. She showers Parker with attention, and he loves it.
We were all over at Pappy's house for dinner one evening when Parker set his sights on Hillary. Poor girl...I don't think she knew what she was in for.
He began by dominating the conversation.
"Hillary, did you notice blah blah blah blah blah....." She couldn't get a word in edgewise.
Then he decided to get close (and I mean really close) to her. The chairs had been arranged in the living room so we could all chat and eat together. Parker asked Hillary if they could sit next to each other. She was giggling at his clear obsession, but agreed. This put uncle Nathan next to me on the couch.
Parker sat in the chair next to Hillary's, but then deciding they weren't quite close enough, he got down, moved the chair until it was touching hers, and climbed up again. By now we were all laughing aloud at his bold overtures.
Little did we know he was just getting started. As he ate, he put one hand on her arm. He looked up at her with big, adoring eyes asking,"Isn't it nice to eat together?" Poor Hillary's face was beet red. Watch out, uncle Nathan, he's putting the moves on your girl!
I was embarrassed for him. Fortunately, he doesn't yet have the self-awareness to be mortified by his over-the-top behavior. We'll save this story for a few years...
Parker met many people when we visited Kentucky during the holidays, but since we've moved home, he's had the opportunity to really get to know them. He was recently re-introduced to his uncle's girlfriend, Hillary. She is darling - young, blond, beautiful. She showers Parker with attention, and he loves it.
We were all over at Pappy's house for dinner one evening when Parker set his sights on Hillary. Poor girl...I don't think she knew what she was in for.
He began by dominating the conversation.
"Hillary, did you notice blah blah blah blah blah....." She couldn't get a word in edgewise.
Then he decided to get close (and I mean really close) to her. The chairs had been arranged in the living room so we could all chat and eat together. Parker asked Hillary if they could sit next to each other. She was giggling at his clear obsession, but agreed. This put uncle Nathan next to me on the couch.
Parker sat in the chair next to Hillary's, but then deciding they weren't quite close enough, he got down, moved the chair until it was touching hers, and climbed up again. By now we were all laughing aloud at his bold overtures.
Little did we know he was just getting started. As he ate, he put one hand on her arm. He looked up at her with big, adoring eyes asking,"Isn't it nice to eat together?" Poor Hillary's face was beet red. Watch out, uncle Nathan, he's putting the moves on your girl!
I was embarrassed for him. Fortunately, he doesn't yet have the self-awareness to be mortified by his over-the-top behavior. We'll save this story for a few years...
6/28/10
Sickness
It's a funny thing, the way your body and perspective and tolerance for certain things can change so much simply by adding one tiny infant to your household.
I used to "get sick" frequently. Now, I am pretty sure many my sudden sore throats before a singing engagement were likely stress-related, but I did have my fair share of confirmed strep cultures. Getting sick used to have some benefits. I could skip out on some entertaining that I wasn't feeling up for, or I could take a day off from work. I could sleep for long hours, drink tea, read books. Getting sick used to be a pretty good gig...before children.
When I added kids, the whole equation changed. No family in town meant no time off regardless of how crummy I was feeling. No such thing as taking a day off work when you are a stay at home mom.
I remember one time in Seattle when Aaron came home with a stomach flu. Maddie had just been born a few weeks prior. Our extended family had just left. I was trying to juggle the kids and the house and not succeeding. I leaned heavily on the help Aaron provided in the evenings. So when he came home that night and curled into the fetal position on the office floor, sleeping through the children's screams, I was livid. How dare he get sick right now?
The next day, I could barely move. Aaron had miraculously gotten better and gone to work. I, however, was sick as a dog. I remember throwing Maddie toward her baby swing, praying she landed inside while I dashed to the kitchen sink where I lost the entire contents of my stomach in front of our very frightened 19 month old son. "Mommy's fine," I sobbed. Very reassuring, I'm sure.
I've become pretty adept at ignoring any minor illnesses I may have. I simply don't have time for them anymore. Mommy getting sick = chaos. Important items, such as toothbrushes, mysteriously disappear; door knobs become as sticky as flytraps; laundry has orgies in the basement leaving strange evidence behind - towels I've never seen before, odd socks hooking up, leaving behind a whole slew of mismatched baby socks...
These days I'm well most of the time. Now is not one of those times. For the last month I have tried to convince myself (and everyone else) that my hacking cough and constant nasal drainage were simply the result of some unknown allergies. Then last week I spent our entire anniversary trip apologizing...to Aaron when he couldn't sleep until my nightly cough-fest was over, to strangers trying to enjoy a romantic dinner only to be interrupted by my loud honking nose-blowing, to couples at the B&B with whom we'd share a laugh which would inevitably end in my hacking up a lung.
Uncle! It's time to see a doctor.
I used to "get sick" frequently. Now, I am pretty sure many my sudden sore throats before a singing engagement were likely stress-related, but I did have my fair share of confirmed strep cultures. Getting sick used to have some benefits. I could skip out on some entertaining that I wasn't feeling up for, or I could take a day off from work. I could sleep for long hours, drink tea, read books. Getting sick used to be a pretty good gig...before children.
When I added kids, the whole equation changed. No family in town meant no time off regardless of how crummy I was feeling. No such thing as taking a day off work when you are a stay at home mom.
I remember one time in Seattle when Aaron came home with a stomach flu. Maddie had just been born a few weeks prior. Our extended family had just left. I was trying to juggle the kids and the house and not succeeding. I leaned heavily on the help Aaron provided in the evenings. So when he came home that night and curled into the fetal position on the office floor, sleeping through the children's screams, I was livid. How dare he get sick right now?
The next day, I could barely move. Aaron had miraculously gotten better and gone to work. I, however, was sick as a dog. I remember throwing Maddie toward her baby swing, praying she landed inside while I dashed to the kitchen sink where I lost the entire contents of my stomach in front of our very frightened 19 month old son. "Mommy's fine," I sobbed. Very reassuring, I'm sure.
I've become pretty adept at ignoring any minor illnesses I may have. I simply don't have time for them anymore. Mommy getting sick = chaos. Important items, such as toothbrushes, mysteriously disappear; door knobs become as sticky as flytraps; laundry has orgies in the basement leaving strange evidence behind - towels I've never seen before, odd socks hooking up, leaving behind a whole slew of mismatched baby socks...
These days I'm well most of the time. Now is not one of those times. For the last month I have tried to convince myself (and everyone else) that my hacking cough and constant nasal drainage were simply the result of some unknown allergies. Then last week I spent our entire anniversary trip apologizing...to Aaron when he couldn't sleep until my nightly cough-fest was over, to strangers trying to enjoy a romantic dinner only to be interrupted by my loud honking nose-blowing, to couples at the B&B with whom we'd share a laugh which would inevitably end in my hacking up a lung.
Uncle! It's time to see a doctor.
6/19/10
High Heels
I wore some tonight. I went to a girlfriend's birthday party while Aaron stayed home with the kids because Parker wasn't feeling well. Shucks! So sad that they couldn't join me...
Carpe Diem! I wore a dress and 4 inch heels. Oh! It felt soooo good!
Walking in them was not the part that felt good. In fact, that part was somewhat tricky.
The fun was in knowing I would not have to bend over to pick up a child sprawled on the floor in full meltdown mode. I would not be required to chase an insubordinate little stinker down the middle of the road in these. I would not have to balance screaming 19 month old on one hip, a diaper bag on the opposite arm, and have a 3 year old tugging us all along by my free hand. No, these every day feats of mommy super-power must not be attempted in such dangerous shoes.
Dangerous. That's how I felt. Giddy with freedom and possibility. All from a pair of heels. It was exhilarating!
Maybe I'll wear them around the house after the kids go to bed!
Carpe Diem! I wore a dress and 4 inch heels. Oh! It felt soooo good!
Walking in them was not the part that felt good. In fact, that part was somewhat tricky.
The fun was in knowing I would not have to bend over to pick up a child sprawled on the floor in full meltdown mode. I would not be required to chase an insubordinate little stinker down the middle of the road in these. I would not have to balance screaming 19 month old on one hip, a diaper bag on the opposite arm, and have a 3 year old tugging us all along by my free hand. No, these every day feats of mommy super-power must not be attempted in such dangerous shoes.
Dangerous. That's how I felt. Giddy with freedom and possibility. All from a pair of heels. It was exhilarating!
Maybe I'll wear them around the house after the kids go to bed!
6/18/10
Diaper Bag Logistics
No amount of schooling could have prepared me for this monumental task. When it comes to packing a diaper bag, I feel like a complete idiot. It takes me forever. In fact, if I know I have to be somewhere early in the morning with the kids, I will literally lose sleep over that stupid bag.
Which bag should I take?
Can I cram a big one in the stroller, or should I pack multiple small bags?
Would a backpack be more efficient?
If we're taking lunch, should I pack a collapsible or hard-sided cooler?
It can take me up to two hours to pack the diaper bag for the zoo. Now, mind you, I am also engaged in Olympic-esque games with the kids (including but not limited to): clothing wrestle, sunscreen battle, breakfast challenge (cooking, convincing them to eat, and cleaning up). Then I have to make lunches, get myself ready, feed the cats, and start the laundry. I suppose if I only had to make lunches and pack the bags, (and someone tied up the children) I could have it done in about 20 minutes.
Today Cider-man (Parker still can't pronounce that s-p combination) had one of my hands bound in his web [tied in a ponytail holder attached to a string] while I made the sandwiches. When I successfully got the food in ziplocks with one hand, I felt just like Wonder Woman (except I'm not allowed to say BAM! and incapacitate him with my lasso).
Swim diapers, regular diapers, wipes, sunscreen for their bodies, sensitive sunscreen for their faces, hats, emergency outfits, towels, drinks, wallet, keys, cooler with food, EpiPen, phone, swimsuits, kitchen sink...
We make it out the door. The van is packed. The kids are strapped in.
"Mommy, can we just stay home?"
Which bag should I take?
Can I cram a big one in the stroller, or should I pack multiple small bags?
Would a backpack be more efficient?
If we're taking lunch, should I pack a collapsible or hard-sided cooler?
It can take me up to two hours to pack the diaper bag for the zoo. Now, mind you, I am also engaged in Olympic-esque games with the kids (including but not limited to): clothing wrestle, sunscreen battle, breakfast challenge (cooking, convincing them to eat, and cleaning up). Then I have to make lunches, get myself ready, feed the cats, and start the laundry. I suppose if I only had to make lunches and pack the bags, (and someone tied up the children) I could have it done in about 20 minutes.
Today Cider-man (Parker still can't pronounce that s-p combination) had one of my hands bound in his web [tied in a ponytail holder attached to a string] while I made the sandwiches. When I successfully got the food in ziplocks with one hand, I felt just like Wonder Woman (except I'm not allowed to say BAM! and incapacitate him with my lasso).
Swim diapers, regular diapers, wipes, sunscreen for their bodies, sensitive sunscreen for their faces, hats, emergency outfits, towels, drinks, wallet, keys, cooler with food, EpiPen, phone, swimsuits, kitchen sink...
We make it out the door. The van is packed. The kids are strapped in.
"Mommy, can we just stay home?"
6/15/10
Requests
I don't do well with whining children. When I was a counselor for kids, I always addressed the issue (whether the parents asked me to or not). It's not merely a pet peeve of mine; I believe it is very important that children learn at a young age how to appropriately communicate their needs.
On a daily basis I force Parker to repeat his requests in a reasonable manner. Sometimes he'll have to ask for something seven or eight times until all traces of the whine have left his voice. It is a painful process for everyone involved.
But boy-oh-boy when he asks for something in a normal voice and throws in some manners and gratitude, I will give that child the world on a silver platter.
Here is a [rare] example: "Um, excuse me mommy, may I please have [fill in the blank], and I will share some with my sister." The best is when I give him whatever he's asked for, and he is so joyful and thankful. "Yippee! Thank you mommy!"
Wonder if God feels the same way I do. I bet He has all kinds of blessings at his disposal He's just aching to give us...but first we have to ask (without whining or demanding). I bet the icing on His cake is when we are truly grateful.
I wonder how much Parker has learned from listening to my whining, demanding prayers. I wonder how often he's heard me specifically thank God for answering my prayers. Not often enough.
Matthew 7:11
If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!
James 1:17
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.
On a daily basis I force Parker to repeat his requests in a reasonable manner. Sometimes he'll have to ask for something seven or eight times until all traces of the whine have left his voice. It is a painful process for everyone involved.
But boy-oh-boy when he asks for something in a normal voice and throws in some manners and gratitude, I will give that child the world on a silver platter.
Here is a [rare] example: "Um, excuse me mommy, may I please have [fill in the blank], and I will share some with my sister." The best is when I give him whatever he's asked for, and he is so joyful and thankful. "Yippee! Thank you mommy!"
Wonder if God feels the same way I do. I bet He has all kinds of blessings at his disposal He's just aching to give us...but first we have to ask (without whining or demanding). I bet the icing on His cake is when we are truly grateful.
I wonder how much Parker has learned from listening to my whining, demanding prayers. I wonder how often he's heard me specifically thank God for answering my prayers. Not often enough.
Matthew 7:11
If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!
James 1:17
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.
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