The story of Christmas

Tonight my daughter hit Husband and I with the big whammy. We were all sitting around talking about this new show we watch on Netflix. One of those Disney Channel or Nickelodeon masterpieces with the really bad child actors. You know the ones? Well this one is about a nanny in NY named Jessie. The theme song is running through my head as I type at this very moment.
Anyway. One particular episode was all about Christmas, and keeping with the theme of the season my daughter watched this one about five-gillion times. Ok, so it was only three times, but when you've seen it once, you've seen it enough. As with all television shows these days, if it involves Christmas it involves the Big Guy.  While I wish I was referring to God, our Father, you and I both know I'm talking about Santa. Good 'ole St. Nick himself. Which is apparently what my daughter thinks Christmas is all about. Kind of devastating on mine and Husband's part considering we do not actively encourage belief in Santa Claus. However, we don't discourage it because we still have not decided if we're going to go through the "Santa" tradition. It was part of my upbringing, but not Husband's, so we're kind of torn.

Here we are listening to her talk about this episode about the little kid learning about Santa, and how she wants to sit on his lap and tell him all about what she wants for Christmas. (That is a story for a Whole Other Post) We shared a look and then I asked our darling Monster, "Honey, do you know what Christmas is REALLY all about?" and she looked at me and immediately replied "Yeah Mommy, it's about Santa visiting all the girls and boys and bringing them presents if they've been good and nothing if they've been bad."

A true Face-Palm moment folks. Husband and I just stared at each other open mouthed, both thinking the same thing. "How have we failed to tell our children the story of Christmas??? What kind of church attending heathens are we?"
So we hunkered down for the story of the birth of Jesus. We got out the storybook Bible that my in-laws bought her 3 years ago, ashamed that this was probably only the second or third time it had been read to my girls. Monster looked at it and said "This isn't a story about Christmas, this is a story about God and Jesus." (Yes ladies and gents, we have failed THAT bad. I could not fake this kind of failure if I tried.) I read the story of Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus in the manger, all laid out in child like terms. We talked about who Jesus is, and why He was born.

Then my Monster laid it on thick. She started asking the loaded questions.

"Where is God?"
"Can I see Him?"
"Why can't I go to Heaven with God and Jesus?"
"How does God see everything?"
"Why did God die? (meaning Jesus)?"
"So is Santa God too, because he sees everything?"
"Where is Heaven? Can we see Heaven?"
"How do we go there (Heaven)?"

I was baffled, floored, shocked, and very Very VERY confused. I did not know how to answer all of these questions. Sure I know the basics, and while I KNOW the answers, I did not know how to make sure my FOUR YEAR OLD would know and understand them.
My child is too smart for us, and I swear she asked these questions knowing she was going to stump Husband and me.
I can at least say that now my girls have been told that Christmas is truly about Jesus being born, and that we celebrate by giving each other presents because we can't give Him the presents. That we show each other our love for, well, each other, and Jesus, through our gifts.
Unfortunately, with all the intensity we still have not figured out how to tell them Santa isn't real. Or if we should tell them, given their current level of belief.

Friends, parenting sure is hard sometimes.

For Shame!

I am a pretty open minded person when it comes to discipline. I've tried many different tactics with my girls, and sometimes I realize too late that I'm doing it wrong. Sometimes I embrace a method that works like a charm. Oddly, I have found that my oldest responds to communication remarkably well, while my younger daughter does not quite understand our conversations just yet and is more impacted by a time out. I have used spanking before, and found it to be quite ineffective. So while I personally am not against it, I very rarely use it because it just doesn't work with my children.
But of all the "discipline" methods I have seen and tried, there is one that infuriates me beyond belief.
Child shaming.
I do not care how funny you think it is to post a picture of your child holding a sign proclaiming what they've done wrong. It's not. In fact, posting a picture of your teenager holding a sign about smoking pot/failing grades/breaking curfew is not even effective in my opinion. Why? Because yes, you are proclaiming what he/she did wrong to embarrass them into better behavior, but you are also proclaiming to the world YOUR shortcomings. Which in my opinion, some parent deserve.

How is posting a humiliating picture of your child confessing to a crime going to change their behavior? Your child is failing school? Why are YOU taking more time to help him/her learn, finding better study methods, monitoring their work or at the very least, investing in a tutor? Your child was doing drugs? Right, better to have them pose with a cardboard sign instead of explaining to them the risks, confiscating the item and again Monitoring their behavior. They broke curfew? Yes, it is definitely more appropriate to take a picture of them locked out on the porch instead of finding out where they are, then confiscating their phone/privileges/means of transportation.
Maybe I just remember how it felt to only be allowed to sit at the kitchen table (in a spot where I could not see the t.v.) studying for a mandated amount of time PER subject (because when my grades suffered I brought home every book from every subject). I remember only being allowed to read said school books, or my BIBLE, nothing fun or frivolous. I lost my phone, my music, my computer, my books, everything that could be enjoyed. And it worked. My parents didn't have to take a picture of me holding a sign stating my wrongdoings.
Had they done something like that, let me tell you what would have happened. I would have resented them. I would not have trusted them, or respected them. That last one is the biggest. Because sure, every teenager resents or even feels like they hate their parents at some point or another. But I always knew deep down that I deserved the punishment I was getting. And I respected that.
Ok, so maybe I respect it more now as an adult than I did as a teen. But still. You won't catch me publicly humiliating my children to get a point across. Because in the long run, all that does is kill their self esteem, kill their relationship with me, and kill their sense of self worth.
Or worse, they might think it's funny too, and that is just ineffective.

Keep it in your pants.

If you have ever had a baby, you might know the rules regarding jumping into bed to do the deed after the baby is born. There is a time limit in which you are supposed to wait, in order to heal, and for all your internal organs to move back into place and what not. However, the scariest part is not the healing process. It's a little thing called fertility. After having a baby, go figure, you are ridiculously fertile. Which means having Mommy and Daddy time before you are supposed to is a big no no. 

So why is it, every time I turn around on one of the Birth Club message boards I lurk on, am I seeing posts like "Oh my God I might be pregnant??!?!?!" Seriously? You JUST had a baby. In October. It is only November. Are you so dense and irresponsible that you would risk not only YOUR body, but also your possible child's health because you couldn't keep in your pants like the doctor said? There is a reason they tell you no. I'm pretty sure my doctor didn't say "Now Kerry, NO SEX until your six week check up. Actually let's try for NO SEX until we get your tubal ligation done." And by golly, since all Husband has to do is Look at me cross eyed and get me pregnant, you bet your toosh I'm waiting until after that delightful and irreversible surgery. (No really, I was on the pill when I got pregnant with Monster 2, I'm not taking any chances.)

Now, I know not everyone has self control made of steel like I do. Ok, let's be honest here. I know not everyone has the intense and suffocating fear of having a FOURTH child like I do. But seriously. If your baby isn't even three months old yet, and you aren't on birth control, and your husband didn't go buy a freaking condom, why in bloody hell are you so worried about Doing-The-Deed. I don't care what anyone says. No one wants to be pregnant for 18 month straight. That's 18 months without a cocktail. That 18 months of being an incubator. 18 months of giving up every bad habit you have. 18 months of baby packing on the pounds, making it about 18 times harder to lose it after the SECOND baby is born. 18 months of your organs being all jacked up inside your body. 18 months of your stomach sitting right up by your ribs, because it never had the chance to float back down in place, because holy hell, your uterus didn't even get to shrink back down all the way. All because you couldn't use a condom to get frisky.

You may think I'm being harsh. But to me, someone who says "Well, we certainly aren't TRYING to get pregnant. That's just silly. We just forgot to use protection."

That's not silly. That's freaking stupid. Irresponsible. Dense. Thick headed. Idiotic. Insane. Childish. Immature. I could go on. and on. and on. 

Because if you are not using protection and you are having sex before you are supposed to, you cannot say you aren't trying to get pregnant, because you are. After all, God made us the way he did for a reason. Those parts fit together for a purpose, and that purpose is to make babies. Trust me, I have three of them. 

So for the love of all things holy, quit your whining and attention seeking by talking about how "Oh my God I might be pregnant." It's lame. You knew what you were doing. If by some lucky chance you didn't get yourself knocked up, please, spare us all and KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS. 

Who says you can't bribe your children?

As any parent of a child older than two knows, bedtime is a drama filled situation that usually involves a protest, a sit in, a screaming match, and a lock up. Or maybe that's just my house. Either way, bedtime is a bitch.
My 4 year old has a wildly active imagination and she can come up with any reason under the sun to be out of bed. Meaning my 2 year old doesn't actually have to have a reason, she just has to follow her big sister. By this point in the day, Mommy has 10-12 hours under her belt of dealing with the Monsters. Not to mention Monster 3 becomes decidedly high maintenance just when his sisters are at their worst. While I think it's a conspiracy, I'm generally too exhausted to work out any actual theories.
So three nights ago Husband, with a stroke of evil brilliance, decided to bribe our daughter with a reward if she had 4 good nights of bedtime. Monday night as we begged and pleaded at the feet of our Monster Masters to just cut us some slack, Husband struck a deal. Now Monster 1 being the apt negotiator that she is, knew that this deal was gold. If she would go to bed on time and without a fight for 4 nights (Mon-Thurs) then her and Daddy would have a camp out in the living room Friday night. The camp out would involve a fort (much to Mommy's dismay) and movies (Much to Daddy's), and every bedtime item they require for sleep.
So off they went to the calendar to mark the days that she had to have good bedtimes. Circles on each day except Friday, which received a giant star. For every night she went to bed without fuss, Husband was to put an x through the circle showing that she is one step closer to the camp out.
I'm pretty sure Husband thought he was being brilliant. That there was no way she would go to bed without fuss for 4 straight nights. Well, we may be in for a loooooong Friday night, because the little trick only has one night left to endure.

Now, Mommy may or may not be turning up the music full blast to entice my daughters to wear out all their energy, ensuring a quick and easy bedtime later tonight. Because I'm curious to see how this camp out goes. If it is effective, we might start a tradition. Or rather Husband might, because this mama will be sleeping in her bed. After all, I have to tend to the baby!

So who says you can't bribe your children? I believe you can! Especially when it's just as much fun for the parent to endure the reward as it is for the children. Granted, the parent who did the bribing might not enjoy it, but this parent sure will!

Teach them.

                 

I have seen this picture/quote floating around the webs for awhile now. Every time I read it, I think about how I love it.  Because it reminds me of my husband, and instills in me a fear for everything our children may one day face. I suppose that is parenthood, but it is something akin to walking in a pitch black room knowing one direction holds the safety of a cozy couch and the other holds a long flight of stairs waiting for you to fall. The worst part, is you think you know your way around the room, but then someone adds a blindfold to that darkness and spins you around really fast.

I have two daughters that scare me to death. I think about the way my parents raised my sister and I, and I think, ":Am I doing it right??" I never participated in dangerous things like drugs or alcohol, and I married the person I lost my virginity to. Now to most parents that might be a win. I'm not sure if my parents think I turned out the way they wanted. I do know that I am terrified of my daughters getting to that stage of their lives, and all I want is to teach them to look for the right kind of man.
Husband is one of those men. He really is The One. So I know that my girls have the best example in the world of what kind of man to look for. In fact, I generally calm my fears by thinking about this.

Then I had a son! Oh my goodness, that is an entire new set of fears. While I know what my girls are getting into, I know nothing about being a teenage boy. I know nothing about how to mold him into that kind of man. I never had a brother, so my parents are right there with me in the unknown of raising a boy. So I turn to my in-laws, who took on not only two girls, but also two boys and managed to raise them to be outstanding human beings. How my mother in law did not pull her hair out Every Single Day with 4 children is a mystery to me. So not only is she most likely a saint (or practicing witchcraft, one of the two!) her and my father in law raised my husband. And like I said, he is basically perfect. But my wonder and curiosity is centered around how they knew they were doing it right.

This picture, while a worthy goal, is a little baffling. Because I am pretty sure every parent walks into it believing they are going to produce human beings that are outstanding people. None of embark on this journey thinking, "I wonder how much I can screw my kids up!" So why are there no instructions on the best way to create such men and women? Obviously, it has been done before. Did none of our parents take notes? Did none of them pause long enough to think, "Hey, this stuff worked, let's write that down to pass on to our kids so our grandchildren will turn out right!"

New goal friends, I'm going to start making a note of parenting tactics that "Work". I'm also going to interview my parents and ILs. I think they might know something about how to make our children little angels. They're just keeping it a secret. Waiting for us to ask. Waiting for us to get to the point of pulling our hair out before they share the wealth of knowledge.
And to be honest, given the way I was laying in bed last night thinking about the kind of world we live in and that my daughters will live in, I think I'm at the pulling-my-hair-out point.

You're so vain, you probably think this post is about you.

I remember when I was in high school, and it was quite possibly the worst thing in the world to have someone calling you out, or trying to start something with you when really all you wanted to do was sit back and freaking learn something or whatever. Because we were there to learn, seriously, nothing more.

Go ahead, I'll be waiting.

And now as an adult when the same people are constantly trying to start drama, I'm reminded of why I hated other teenagers in high school. They were immature. And immaturity is not flattering on anybody. I'm cloaking a little bit of immaturity myself today, and I'm sure I'll be ashamed when I look in the mirror later. But for now a point needs to be made.

We're all adults, living in the real world. We're not getting graded for how badly we slack off. We're not going to have someone to correct us (or hold us back) when it starts to get real. We are not in high school anymore. I know that is a hard concept to grasp, but these days most normal adults Do Not Care if you don't like them. Because they are grown. They have responsibilities to tend to that are more important than your Facebook call out. (Which by the way, could use some work. Wit is key, hire a writer.) When you "unfriend" someone, it actually takes a while to notice, because there are more significant things happening in our lives. In fact, I think the record of how long it takes to notice is something like, two weeks, and it was only noticeable because suddenly we didn't see 15 status updates in one day. I was like, "Whoa, what happened, FB got shorter? Huh, I wonder what changed." then I was like, "Whoa, figured it out. Eh. Whatever."

And then I walked off to take care of what matters. Like, my kids. My husband. My home. The people and things I actually see Every Single Day, because that is what is important. Meanwhile, you don't phase anyone, and honey, Nobody Cares.

For all you know, this post has nothing to do with you. But you're so vain you really do think everything is about you, don't you?

1 month ago today.

Who knew a month could go by so fast? It has been 4 weeks 3 days, and exactly one month since our Little Man became Monster 3. My world now has a lot more blue in it, less free hands time, and a snuggly tiny human who loves to cuddle with his mama. I am reliving the joys (and miseries) that can be directly traced back to breastfeeding. I get a whole new set of first smiles. I've learned how different it is to change a little boy's diaper, as opposed to a little girl's. I finally have a "Brother" in my life, just not in the way I always wished for as a kid. I have a Mama's boy, and sweet chubby cheeks to kiss. 

One month ago today Monster man entered this world in a blur of pain and adrenaline. Since then our world has calmed down quite a bit into a routine that is as natural as breathing. My fears are gone, and my days are relatively normal again. Who'd of thought that it could be so easy. I suppose the saying is true that it's easier to go from two to three than from one to two.

This post is short and sweet, and pretty much just a drive by at the computer on the way to my bed. A quick stop to wish my littlest Monster a happy one month birthday. Let's celebrate with a good nights sleep!

Moms aren't just Mothers.

After our wild and crazy night last night, I have suffered brutally through a long day that has passed too quickly. We've been relaxing and in general not doing much of anything. I am not ashamed to admit that most of my day has been spent exactly where I am now. In front of my computer working on this blog. Husband has graciously tended to the children, gone to the store for groceries, and even cleaned the kitchen. All while I've been hanging out soaking up my artificial light emitting from this glorious glowing monitor. My blog has taken on a whole new look, and it took hours to get it just right. It's still not right, but it's one step closer. The Monsters have been slightly confused today because while they have seen a whole lot of Daddy, they haven't seen much of Mommy. The fleeting moment of staggering out to the coffee pot was about it. I feel as though I'm hung over, even though I can honestly say I don't even know what that feels like.
Why have I been holed up in front of this dreadful computer all day? Because for a few minutes (ok, hours) I wanted to feel like I have more going for me than just being Mommy. Sometimes as my day to day life passes by in a blur of diaper changes, bath times and lunches of mac-n-cheese, I forget that once upon a time I was not just Mommy every day. I was a developed, insightful participant in the real world. Ok, so I could at least carry on a conversation with other adults.
These days, though, it's harder and harder to find time to be productive member of the human race. When your whole world revolves around your children and not much else, you forget what it's like to sit back and talk to someone about something other than potty training and breastfeeding.
So here I have sat, contemplating the things that interest me, and how to make sure I am incorporating those things into my daily life. I haven't figured it out yet, but I'm getting there. Here's what I have come up with so far:

I've decided that I'm going to make time each week for Husband and I to hang out with out friends. Whether it's just for an hour, or for a whole day, we need it.
I'm going to take time in the evenings once a week to hang out with just Husband. Tonight we're going to kick back and watch a movie together after the Monsters are in bed.
I am going to refresh my Bible knowledge. When Besties were here, we ended up talking about the sermon from church that morning, and it was FUN. I cracked open my Bible for the first time in a while, and was reminded of why I enjoyed studying it so much as a teen. God has some pretty cool stuff to share with us
I am going to pick my camera up again. I had so much fun taking pictures of Monster 3 two weeks ago. It reminded me of why I started taking pictures in the first place. I love creating something memorable.
I am going to start reading again. Yesterday Bestie A asked me if I had read anything good recently, and I replied with "I actually haven't tried reading anything lately." and all I could think was, once upon a time, I MADE time to read.
I'm going to try something new. I want to pick up crocheting again, but this time I want to try to make something I haven't tried to make before. I'm not sure what yet, but at some point I will come up with something.
.

So that's what I have so far. I am going to take the steps toward becoming a well rounded individual again. Because Moms are more than just Mothers. We're some pretty kick ass women.

Who needs the fast lane, when you've got Rummy?

I keep sitting down typing out different opening words and phrases to try to start off this post. It's not working. So I'm going to just start typing exactly what I'm thinking about and hope that it doesn't come out in a jumbled mashed up load of nonsense. Of course after the night I've just had it is Entirely Possible.

Wait, I should back up. It actually wasn't just tonight. It started LAST night. With just a simple text. "Hey, ya'll going to church in the morning?"

Yup, so began one of the best days in a loooooooong time. I'd add a few more "oooo's" but I think you get the point. 

What, you thought you were about to read a sad post? Oh right, the phrase "after the night I've just had" is usually followed by something negative. Not tonight friends, not tonight.

Some of you may know (and some of you may not know) that Husband and I have recently developed a pretty close friendship with another couple. We'll refer to them as Besties. Because really, it's late and I can't think of anything else right now and Besties seems to be fairly descriptive at this point. Since Besties have become part of our lives, we have realized what we've been missing out on all these years. Being the anti-social couple we are, we have not had many friends that we can really just kick back and hang out with. We've got several couples we are friends with, and several people we could call up to hang out. Generally though, we hang out with family. And while there is nothing wrong with chillin' with the family, sometimes you just need to be around adults who are, well let's just be honest, just as immature as you are!

Today that is exactly what we did. We started off by going to church for the first time in a long time. Not the greatest sermon to enter back into the church world with, but still good nonetheless. Since Besties go to a church I went to long ago, we decided to start going with them. After that, we went our separate ways for lunch and then made plans for them to come over and hang out at our place later. Which they did, after a mad rush to get the house clean.
 At first, we all just kind of sat there, playing with the kids, messing around on our phones, making idle chit chat. Then, the guys tried to turn on Call of Duty. While normally we'd be content to sit back and watch...well, who am I kidding, that's not true either. Mostly us girls didn't want to watch them play video games, so we insisted on a good ole' game of Rummy. That's right, we get together, hang out and play cards. Today we spent 6.5 hours sitting around the table, drinking coffee, playing cards and causing a ruckus. I took away from some of our total time together to account for retrieving dinner (uh, can you say YUM? and Bestie A's stepmom is pretty rocking!), attending to children, and making lots of noise. We laughed, we cried (because we were laughing so hard) and we had conversations ranging on every level of seriousness. 

Now, having not had such a relationship before, I've come to appreciate the importance of socializing with other people as a couple. Having people around you who are at the same stage of life as you. People who understand that partying is lame, cards are cool, and coffee is the best beverage of choice. Now, you may say we sound like some lame antiquated losers. Well, alright then. I can take that. Because I laughed more tonight than I have in months. I broke down and just had fun. We had conversation flowing around us, and when we weren't talking it was a comfortable silence. 

It's not the ones where you fill the silence with talking that make an impact. It's the ones who you can sit with quietly, even silently, that will fill your lives. 

The ones who will hang out with you in t-shirts and sweats.

 Just come over and be fine watching movies or t.v. together. 

The ones who can both dish it AND take it. 

Who don't even have to knock before walking in.

Who can have fun doing nothing.

Basically, the ones who are essentially just like you and your spouse, and mean equally as much to you both. Those are the friends that are for life. That's right Besties, ya'll are keepers.

Look Ma, No hands!

Even as I sit here typing what is sure to be a post full of frustration, I keep having to stop what I am doing. I have a baby across my lap eating for what feels like the millionth time in 4 hours, and I have just finished lunch with the Monsters.
Monster 1 is grounded for the first time ever. After breaking my camera, she has been sentenced to her room for two days with no electronics. Meaning to her, life as she knows it is over.
Monster 2 has been quietly playing. In the living room. With ALL her toys. Piece by piece she has dragged them out here right under my nose. Apparently she knew I was just distracted enough not to stop her.
Monster 3 (when he's not eating) is fussing. Today of ALL days I don't have my Moby wrap to strap him on  and remain hands free.

I have an entire house to clean and every single time I start, I have to stop. I have accomplished absolutely nothing today. I need three of me. One to take care of the baby, one to take care of the big Monsters, and one to clean my house. Instead I have one of me, and no hands. I'm riding a bike with my hands in the air. I have no control.
Seriously, I want to ride my bike WITH my hands. I don't want to spend my day racing through unable to steer or brake or make it over that jump. I don't want to go flying off and crash into a wall. Yet I feel like this is what is happening today.

"But you're blogging! You have time for that!" Yeah, you might think that. But seriously this post has taken a while to write, and I've only accomplished it because I'm sitting with my Boppy pillow around my waist, with a baby latched onto me. Monster 1 is, well, grounded, so she's in her room. Monster 2 is still playing with the pile of toys she brought out. I can even type with the baby thrown up on my shoulder. As long as I remain sitting just like this, he won't cry. So while I can type and type and type, I cannot do my dishes. Or fold laundry. Or pick up the toys.

Perhaps you'll get more entertainment out of me today as I sit here with my squirmy baby trying to get him to fall asleep long enough to get something done.
Any thoughts on what ya'll would like to read about? You know, since I've got all this time in front of my computer to do the research.

You think Coffee wakes you up?

I am a coffee addict. Nothing makes me happier in the mornings than my cup of coffee with Cinnabon creamer, bringing the party in my mouth to the level of pure bliss. The Coffee motivates me. The Coffee energizes me. The Coffee wakes me up.
But I've found that some things work their magic a little bit better than coffee.
For example. Here's a list of things that get me moving faster than a strike of lightening during a heat storm:

Cold air. You want to make me move? Make the temperature of my bedroom -30* and I guarantee I'll be frantically running around getting the heat on and finding some clothes. Especially after a shower.

An alarm. Unlike Husband, I have no need for an alarm clock to wake me up for work. He does though. And I will tell you this, nothing makes me jump out of bed faster than a random alarm he forgot to turn off before leaving the house. Because his alarms reach a decibel that could wake Satan himself. (a.k.a. my children...Oh yeah, I went there.) If there is one thing you don't want to happen at 4:15 a.m., it's my children to wake up because they will Never Go Back To Sleep. EVER.

My children. Yeah, my children get me moving. Generally it involves some screeching, and some jumping on my bed and a chorus of "I'm hungry" wails echoing through the rooms of our home. Good morning Mama!

A dirty diaper. If you want me to get moving, place my youngest daughter in the doorway of my bedroom with a head full of bedhead and a diaper hanging to her knees. Because you know, if that thing touches the couch, there will be pee stains for decades...

Hunger. I get nauseously hungry whenever I'm pregnant or nursing. It can strike at any moment, but usually if it occurs, it is the first thing I'm suffering from when my eyes open in the morning. I have to eat, at that exact moment or I will most assuredly Die.

A crying child (or infant). If there are tears, someone needs Mama and if Mama does not answer the tears turn into a fit of fury and pure unfiltered Hell. Because someone hit someone, someone took something, and someone needs to be punished. In fact, this is 90% of the time when I wake up, because my girls never seem to both be in a good mood when they wake up.

But the big Kahuna. The mighty winner. The MOST EFFECTIVE way to wake this Mama up. A tactic I discovered only just this morning...

Spit up.

Oh yes, this morning, bright and early, before Monsters 1&2 had even aroused from their peaceful slumbers, Monster man spewed. A projectile of liquid right into my face, my chest, my hair and all over my bed. A mere two seconds before the explosion I had been deep asleep with him snuggled up next to me. But ladies and gents, the sudden drenching of hot liquid immediately followed by the cold sensation of the air hitting that hot liquid, well, let's just say It Will Make You Jump. Which I did. Then I stripped the wet clothes off, and instantly regretted it because I was met with Cold Air. Immediately following that action my oldest runs in and jumps on my bed, screeching about something her sister did. Who walked up to my doorway with a diaper to her knees. Plus, "Mama, we're hungry!!"  Needless to say, I've been up ever since.

After all that, it goes without saying that all I needed was some coffee. Sweet Bliss.

Breaking the rules

A friend of mine on Facebook was talking yesterday about the kind of day she was having with her kids, and how she was breaking the rules a bit to get stuff done. In other words, she was letting her daughter do things she wouldn't normally let her do for the sake of getting some work done. The end of her status was something about how "some would say this is bad parenting, I call it SURVIVAL". In my head I'm thinking "Rock on sister, I do it ALLLLLL the time!" Apparently, though, not everyone views it this way, and clearly did think it was bad parenting, because she got a couple comments about controlling her child. Um, excuse me?? The sweet girl is Two. Like, seriously.

This got me thinking about the things I do, and the things I allow just for the sake of my own sanity. For my friend it was letting her kiddo walk around with a water bottle spraying stuff. Whatever, it's water. I am pretty sure I've done much worse. In fact, this could be a sister post to the Mommy Confessions post I did a few days ago. Sometimes, you do what you gotta do. I've caught my kids playing in my makeup, only to walk away because well, at least they were quiet. Dragging out all my shoes to play "mommy-baby", yup let that slide too. Too much t.v.? Probably a daily  situation in this house.

To me this stuff is harmless. However there are obviously people who are out there looking down on me because of the way my children act when we're at home. As though the things that I deem okay and acceptable are wrong. As though the way I let my girls play is detrimental to their development. Somehow running up and down the hallway racing each other is going to directly affect the way they act towards adults, other children, in restaurants and essentially cause them to control me. I'm not sure I understand the logic behind that. Interactive playing (which to a two year old is running up and down the hall, or spraying things with a water bottle) is harmless in my eyes. And I am the parent. So what makes it acceptable for someone to tell me I'm doing it wrong. Are THEY the ones who will have to suffer through cleaning up the water, the shoes, or the makeup? Are THEY the ones trying to entertain my 4.5 yr old and 3 yr old? Do they have to put them in bed each night? Did they spend all the time changing diapers, getting spit up on, and soothing the endless crying? I think not. Mothers (and Fathers, because Husband has done it all too!) suffer the consequences of what they allow their children to do. If they don't mind, it don't matter. 

So it's like this, unless you want to come clean my house, change my children's diapers, entertain them on my budget, and take over the job of being their Parent, keep your mouth shut because "Unsolicited Parenting Advice Not Welcome Here." and "My house, My rules."

That is all.

I'm an Anroid App Junkie.

Last week as I was strolling through Walmart with Husband, we happened to stop at the cell phone display case. Just to browse and have a little looksie at what they had to offer. I was due for my cell phone upgrade, and figured "What the Heck?"
I walked away the owner of a new LG Escape, throwing my Windows phone out the..Window. :) Ok, not literally but I might as well have. I hated that phone with a passion, and couldn't stand to have it a second longer. Do you know how obnoxious it is to have everyone talking about their games and apps, and not be able to partake in any of them? Let's just say it sucks.
Ever since I bought my new phone (Paying a whopping $1.06, go me!) I've been in heaven. I am a junkie. Photobucket, Instagram, Pandora, Blogger (YAY!), Pinterest, the list goes on and on. Nothing beats logging on to which ever app I fancy at the moment and be connected with all my friends and family using the same ones. It rocks my socks off.
In fact, here soon, I'm probably going to have undergo an intervention because I cannot stop downloaded new apps each day. Keep an eye out for a sudden announcement regarding my rehabilitation, I'm sure it's coming soon.

Holidays are Here??

In the rush and fuss of all the small details of my life, I am already lost to the Holidays. I am more than a little shocked that Thanksgiving is NEXT WEEK. I mean really, where the heck did the time go? How did it creep up on me, silently stealing away what little time I have left before the chaos is due to set in? I have so much to do. I have to decide if I'm going to actually cook something for Thanksgiving this year (who knows?!?!), I have to plan my daughter's birthday party (What the crap, she's three???), and buy some Christmas presents (Ok, so that one isn't so hard...). I have to figure out a way to get my house clean before party weekend. I'm not entirely sure it's going to happen to be honest. My house is a land mine of clothes to be washed, toys to be put away, animals to clean up after, dishes to be done, and children to dodge.

However, despite the feelings of impending doom that can only be traced back to hosting a party so soon after having a baby, I have made some headway. I have already purchased what few gifts we've decided to get for our girls. Monster Man isn't getting anything from us, as he's little and won't know. However, I plan on getting him a stocking and his first ornament. I figure that's enough. On top of that being done, Monster 2 has decided on the theme for her party. She wants Sleeping Beauty. Well, she wants "Pincest Rora". To me this means some pink and blue cupcakes, some Aurora cutouts, and lots of pink decorations. Easy enough. So far I have most of the planning/budgeting under control. 

There is one issue with my younger daughter's birthday. It's in December. So while my oldest gets fun summer birthday parties involving water balloons, snow cones and swimsuits, Monster2 has to have her party inside. Do you know how hard it is to come up with entertaining activities for children of all ages (because it's just family right now, as she's not old enough to have school friends)? Not to mention the SPACE for activities. So I decided this year, she just has to have a pinata. I may be crazy, and it might be laughable, but I'm going to do it. Besides it basically the only damn party item Walmart sells that actually HAS Sleeping Beauty on it. Whatever happened to the classic princesses for crying out loud? It's like Disney had a mid-life crisis and decided out with the old, in with the new. 

Anyway. If anyone has any Princess Aurora ideas on hand, feel free to pass them on. Keep in mind I'm on a budget and my crafts supplies are basically limited to markers, black printer ink, and some card stock. :) 

With Thanksgiving being next week, I'm so ready for food. I love food of all kinds, and I am pretty excited for some new experiences we'll be having this year. But more on that after the fact. The second best part about Thanksgiving week, is Post Thanksgiving Weekend. Folks, I'm ready for my Christmas Tree. Husband has been unwavering in his stance against pre-Turkey Day decorating. One week from today we will be turning on some Christmas tunes, cleaning up the house and throwing up the decor. We will also quite possibly be munching on Thanksgiving leftovers. I Cannot Wait!

Oh yes, between birthdays and holidays we've got some fun in store. And for the next two weeks I'll be in party planning mode. Which is code for "Cleaning-the-house-like-a-mad-woman-as-I-haven't-bothered-to-do-that-in-like-three-weeks!" I'll leave you with that. 

Oh and this: http://pinterest.com/kerrydollll/monster2-s-birthday-party-ideas/

The link to my Pinterest board dedicated to Monster's birthday. :)

Happy Holidays!

It finally happened...

Many of you may know (or maybe you don't because I haven't been on here much lately) that having a boy has been quite a surprise and learning experience for myself and Husband. Everyone tells you it will happen when you have a boy. They say "You will get peed on. Get used to it." This has been a source of amusement for me, as Husband tends to be the one to get peed on. Monster Man doesn't seem to have time to react to my lightening fast diaper changes. Not to brag or anything, but I'm pretty damn quick. Just sayin'.

However, It Finally Happened. I'll set the scene for you. 

It was a few days ago, so I don't quite remember all the exact details. But what I know is this. I was on the phone with my sister in law chatting away as I rushed around trying to get myself and the Monsters ready to be out the door. I have no idea where we were going, just that we were. Husband was working with the girls, and I had been feeding Monster Man. After that I went ahead and proceeded with the ritual of burping/changing/and dressing him. I just get it all done at once, because it's just easier to put a happy baby into the carseat. 

So I'm burping him. Now, being a third time mom, I've learned a few tricks on how to make those burps happen. If you don't burp baby, baby pukes on you. It's a simple science really. But Monster Man, well he has a nasty little habit of Inhaling His Food at a shockingly rapid speed. Which tends to result in a desperate need for some burping. Got him all nice and propped up on my shoulder, and we're burping. We're bouncing, we're patting, and we're applying pressure to the sweet spot by his tummy. Then, with no warning at all, it happened. He burped So Loud and So Hard that the sheer force of it caused him to spew like a faucet. I'm covered, he's covered, we are covered. 

At this point the only real thing to do is just keep on with the changing process. Clothes come off and onto his portable bed he goes. Off comes the diaper, and just as I pull the dirty diaper out from under him, I hear it. Quiet, but threatening. The tiniest of little toots from his little toosh. Back down goes the diaper right as he decides to let it all loose and poop. 

Right onto MY HAND.

But it didn't end there friends, the hits just kept on coming. 

Because for the first time Monster Man let out a leak of the likes I've never seen from human so tiny. That Huggies commercial, where the dad opens the diaper and baby hits the ceiling? Yeah, it was something like that. Pee shooting out and up and everywhere. On my hands (still covered with poop) on his clothes (still covered with puke) and on his bed (while barely missing mine). It was an epic release, and I must say his face looked a little peaceful when all was said and done.

So I did the only thing a mother can do. I picked up my half naked pee covered baby, dropped my phone on the bed(calling out to my sister in law that I had to go) and I handed that little sucker right to Husband.

I've been had, ladies and gents, with the three P's: Puke, Pee, & Poop. All in less than 2 minutes.

Needless to say, Husband is relieved to discover that Little Man doesn't hate him, he was just saving Mommy for the perfect initiation into Parenting A Boy. Also, Husband may have stood there holding the half naked baby for a good couple of minutes. Apparently laughing his ass off slightly impeded him from putting on the diaper and new clothes. Ah my crazy, crazy life.

It's a day to day thing.

My Monster Man is three weeks old today. Good Lord how did three weeks pass by without my notice? I guess I've been too busy baby-wearing, house cleaning, and falling asleep sitting up to realize that life goes on. I mean, seriously, as I type I've got a baby on my chest, and two hyper active Monsters demolishing my once clean living room.  By once clean I might mean it's been cleaned once in the last two or three days. But who's counting? To my knowledge no one is sitting outside my windows to see how I'm taking to life with three. So we'll keep it our little secret, mmk?

To my surprise and delight, it is not as hard as I thought it would be. Monsters 1&2 are shockingly good at being big sisters. Sure, Monster 1 has had some practice, but really it's more like 1&2 were always there together. Whereas Brother, he is new, and exciting, and oh so Cute. Just ask Monster1, she's sitting here telling him how cute he is, and he is eating it up. Between her and I, he is smiling at her like crazy. Between you and me, it's probably just gas. Again, our little secret.

I have found that it's not as difficult being holed up at home these days, because well, acceptance is apprently the first step to...acceptance? Sure, we'll go with it. I've accepted that I'm going to be hanging at home with my kiddos for the next 3 or 4 (or 5 or 6) years, and that has made it a little easier to move past the mundane. Unfortunately my girls are not as understanding of the situation, meaning they are going a little stir crazy. It's a constant battle of the wills, with no end in sight. I am physically exhausted of saying the same things over and over and over and over and over....you get the idea. Here's an excerpt of my daily conversations with my girls:
"Girls, take these toys to your room!"
"Girls, please stop screeching like howler monkeys when Brother is sleeping!"
"Girls, you cannot use the couch to make a fort, put the cushions back up there!"
"Monster 1, stop bugging your sister. Leave her toys alone, leave her food alone, leave her hair alone, LEAVE HER ALONE!"
"No you cannot take her candy just because she isn't eating it right this second. You finished yours, leave hers alone."
"Get off the dog."
"Get off the cat."
"Get off your sister."
"Dishes in the sink, not on the floor!"
"Quit climbing. Quit jumping. Quit stomping. This is not a playground it's a living room, take your rough housing to your bedroom where I can't see you."

I find myself saying "No." and "Quit that." and "Stop now." quite a bit. Or my personal favorite, "Hey! Knock it off!"
Ugh, I am such a mom.

Needless to say things are kind of crazy in our life right now, with no real end in sight. It seems the poking, prodding, teasing and fighting are going to continue. For a Very, Very Long Time.
Methinks I'm going to need more coffee just to keep up.

Monster Man has brought a new set of his own issues to the household this past week. He has decided sleep is for the weak. At least, at night it is. 75% of his day is fairly easy. He sleeps, he eats, and he poops. But there is the other 25% when he only wants Mama to hold him, and only in a certain way. He wants to cry and fuss and nurse like crazy, til he just can't take it anymore and decides it's okay after all to let Mommy go to bed. This generally starts between 7&8 p.m. and lasts until about 10:30. Sometimes he will break up the monotony of my day and have a fussy spell first thing in the mornings too. I try to remember that this too shall pass. One thing is for certain, every child is most assuredly different. Monster 3 is keeping me on my toes...


Well this mama's job is never done and I'm off to console a crying baby. Again...
It's a day to day thing.

Mommy Confessions

One of my favorite threads that is currently on going on my Mommy Board is our thread titled Mommy Confessions. Why? Because it is an ever changing (meaning that ish keeps getting longer) example of how incredibly human even the most Super Hero of moms are. Not one of us out there is perfect.
Now while I cannot share all of their confessions without permission, I can most certainly share my own and invite you to share yours.
Here I'll start.

* I keep my refrigerator stocked with yogurt, string cheese, and applesauce pretty much at All Times. Why? Because my kids can open those up at 7:30 in the morning and feed themselves.

* My 4.5 yr old knows how to work the Playstation, turn on Netflix and find cartoons. Meaning when they feed themselves at 7:30 in the morning, they also take care of their own entertainment.

* When my Monsters do the previous two, I keep sleeping. Yep, I make sure my bedroom door is open, the t.v. isn't too loud, and I get right back in my bed.

*  Despite the fact that I am nursing, I cannot give up my coffee. I've tried, I've failed. Sue me.

* Sometimes my kids eat Cheezits and Spaghetti Os for lunch. By sometimes, I mean at least once a week. By once, I might actually mean at least twice.

* I have watched more Power Rangers as an adult than I ever did as a kid.

* I have on occasion cooked eggs for dinner. And only eggs.

* I like My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. I have watched every episode with my daughters. Repeatedly.

* I use baby wipes to clean just about anything. Faces, tables, butts, hands, toys, car seats, windows; Yeah why bother continuing, I really do mean anything.

* I may or may not start the bedtime countdown in my head two hours in advance.

* I can type one handed efficiently, and feed a baby while doing so.

* I start bedtime at 7, especially on nights that Husband is working, because then I get to watch whatever I want on t.v. And gosh darn it, I am not ashamed of that little fact.

* I love being in the car by myself, because I can listen to whatever music I want. Especially the completely age inappropriate music that my girls can't listen to, for fear they might repeat expletives in front of family members...

* I steal my kids' Halloween candy. In fact, I've probably had more than they have.


I'm sure I could sit here listing many more, because no doubt there are countless I haven't mentioned yet. But that would take the fun out of a follow up post. :)

Two whole weeks

As of this morning, 3:28 a.m. (at which time I may or may not have been up changing a diaper) my delightful Little Man turned two weeks old. In the past two weeks I have dealt with all sorts of adjustments. Having three children, changing the diaper of a little boy, seeing Monster 2 in a different light, and going crazy with the fact that my husband has been home the entire time. Kind of hard to believe that we haven't killed each other yet, actually. Anyway, did you know that little boys have a lot more cracks and crevices to wipe clean than little girls? Yeah, I didn't know that either until two weeks ago. Monster 2 grew enormously when Little Man arrived. Pretty much immediately she went from being my sweet little baby girl, who was still so tiny in my eyes to being...well, a monster. I say this fondly, but seriously all you moms out there know this to be factual. As soon as you're wiping a butt smaller than the one you were wiping before, the first seems ginormous. It's silly, really, that she is still refusing to be potty trained. I should really get on that to be honest, because her butt is just Too Massive to still be in diapers. Of course, I thought this same thing when Monster 2 was born, and obviously I didn't force my 18 month old Monster 1 to stop wearing diapers....

I digress.

It has been a long two weeks. 

Amid all this adjustment time I've grown to despise Facebook with a fiery passion. While I enjoy seeing all my friends and their kiddos, as well as catching up with family, I despise the way politics have overtaken my computer monitor. Politics have turned seemingly nice people into complete and utter assholes. Adults who should know how to act like adults are acting like children. Name calling, whining, crying, threatening to move to Canada for fracks sake. Please, move to Canada. Really now, if your life is that hard, just go. Even worse is I live in the South, if you know what I mean. If not, well, heh heh, I'm not even going to open that can of worms cause I could go on For-Ev-Er.

You'll have to forgive my ramblings, I am a little sleep deprived.

In fact, my brain can't even continue to function because I can not remember everything I wanted to write about... This blows.

Coffee is key.

This morning is Day 3 of Husband being off to work and I am home with the kiddos. There is a dramatic difference between today and the two days before. I'll share with you my little secret.

Coffee.

Oh yes, I indulged this morning in a nice cup of hot coffee. As Husband was running around getting ready, he stopped long enough to make a cup for each of us (his with a foot out the door) while I was getting breakfast, and dealing with my hyperactive screaming girls. Pouring juice, getting bowls of cereal, finding spoons and juggling Brother. I had a proud moment as Husband paused long enough to kiss me goodbye and tell me that I'm one tough chick. It made my heart happy, because for the first time I felt ok with him leaving. Like maybe just maybe adding another Monster to our brood wasn't as difficult as I'd been picturing for the past 3 months!
Then I had my cup of coffee, and I became freaking superwoman. Diapers and clothes got changed, cartoons turned on, hair pulled back, Brother was fed, email checked, FB updated, my Mommy Boards were enjoyed, and I am even wearing human clothes instead of  sweats and a tshirt. We've been up for two hours, and I feel awesome. Somehow, my house is even relatively cleaned up.

I love coffee.... Coffee might be the key to a happy mama!

Then there were five...

It has been almost a week since Monster 3 joined our little family of 4, making us complete at 5. Yet still, a week later, I am still kind of dazed. Between the consistent stream of friends and family coming to see all of us, my mom staying to help out and Husband being home from work, we have been in a "dream world". There has been an extra set of hands at all times, and plenty of people who just plain WANT to hold the baby. It has been awesome.

Then, out of nowhere, reality set in. I thought I had at least an extra 24 hours before Husband would be off to work, so it was ok that my mom had to leave this morning. But not even ten minutes after she was out of the driveway, Husband got a text asking if he could work a few hours tonight at his side job.

"No biggie" I said. "Go ahead and do it! I'll be fine. It has to start eventually."

He's been gone for all of 15 minutes, and I'm kind of at a loss. The baby is sleeping in his swing, the girls are jamming and dancing to music (which he is thankfully sleeping through!) and I am catching up on my blog.

Not too terribly hard. 

Except for whatever reason I have developed a pounding headache that keeps coming back throughout the day. 

Except for I'm fighting to keep my eyes open and have to do so for another 4 hours.

Not to mention I can't drink any coffee or caffeine because I had some already today.

And since the music is on, it wouldn't be very nice of me to turn the t.v. on to entertain myself. 

*sigh* We've got this. Totally. Only 5 hours until Husband is home.

So instead, we'll focus on all the awesome-ness of the past week.

After my intense and crazy delivery of our son, we have spent the whole time just marveling on how amazing it is to have him. 

Monsters 1 & 2 have completely surprised me with how well they have adapted. I am constantly reminded of how sweet and caring my oldest child is, and I have been blown away by the lack of jealousy that I had anticipated with my sweet baby number 2. I worry about her having middle child syndrome. The poor thing is stuck between "baby" and "big girl". She is so eager to help out and marvel over her baby brother, yet I still cannot fight this strong willed little creature to be potty trained! She "lubs her baby" and "hates her panties". Lord help me with this crazy child!

Monster1 loves to be designated "babysitter". She will sit in my room and play at her vanity table while Brother sleeps in his bassinet. She loves to listen for him, tuck him in and give him his paci. Of course, she despises when he cries, and throws her hands over her ears. She will protest against the "whining" informing me that I need to make it stop, because it's bugging her. Oh my word, she is so grown sometimes.

Monster 3, of course, sleeps, eats and poops. Cause he's a baby, and that's just what they do. He's damn cute when he does it though, so naturally, I could watch him sleep, eat and poop all day long. Come to think of it, I do watch him do those things basically all day!

Personal accomplishment of sorts is that I am wearing a real pair of jeans. Granted they are two sizes bigger than before I got pregnant, but hell, I'm 6 days postpartum, and according to Husband I don't look like I just had a baby. Now he could be saying that simply because he's the Husband and that's his job, but it's still nice to hear. I'm just in love with the fact that my legs are covered by denim again.I don't know if it is possible to crave an article of clothing, but I was definitely craving my jeans. I'm so in love with this pair (that I scored for .99c at Goodwill!) that I almost just want to stay in this size just so I can keep wearing them. However that would be silly, because it's just this one pair, and in my closet I have about 10 pairs of pants waiting to fit over my hips and belly once more. I'm determined folks. Screw the holidays, I want to wear my clothes again.

Anyway, so that is what's happening with us these days. It's been crazy, but we love it.