So this happened this morning...
Me: I need to go potty.
Ben: Run! Run! Run!
(I go into the bathroom. I leave the door open, because I'm a mom. Ben approaches the door.)
Ben: I'm going to close this, okay?
Me: That's a good idea. I need privacy.
(Ben closes the door. A few seconds later, a knock. I open the door.)
Ben: Let me know if you need any help, okay?
Me: Okay. Thanks.
(Ben closes the door. A few seconds later, a knock.)
Ben: Do you need any help?
Me: No thank you.
Ben: I'm so proud of you!
This is real.
I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life...to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. ~Henry David Thoreau
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Friday, April 13, 2012
Closing Ceremonies
Remember my dreamy Spring Break? Remember that time when, on the last day of aforementioned Spring Break, the baby got an ear infection and the preschooler started barfing all over, and the barfing preschooler woke up the sick baby and everyone spent the afternoon covered in puke and crying instead of having a nice, peaceful nap?
Yeah, me too.
But we had a good run. And I gained three pounds this week, which means I did a reasonable share of sitting around doing nothing. I'm gonna call that a win.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get the Resolve.
Yeah, me too.
But we had a good run. And I gained three pounds this week, which means I did a reasonable share of sitting around doing nothing. I'm gonna call that a win.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get the Resolve.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Holy Weekend
First, I'll start with the serious. Because raise your hand if you need a good cry on a Thursday morning? No? No one?
I think it's appropriate that my fight with God began on the evening of the last supper. Because it's totally appropriate to pick a fight with God as you enter the remembrance of the biggest sacrifice anyone has ever made ever. Also, in retrospect, last week was not exactly my last supper. But hyperbole is not new for me. And that retrospect could also be the Spring Break talking. At any rate, I arrived at Good Friday as most families do: dragging a kicking and screaming child.
Friday was a short-ish day at work. I needed to survive four periods, then lunch and the talent show. I love the talent show. It makes me feel happy to watch all my kids get up there and bravely sing Adele and dance their 12-year-old hearts out. This year, however, I had a new and unexpected reaction to the talent show. The "OMG I have a daughter and is she going to be the one singing showtoons or the one wearing the microscopic shorts doing what can only be described as pole dancing to some nasty song about objectifying women and OH MY GOSH I DON'T WANT A DAUGHTER" reaction, if you will.
So...yeah. I enjoyed it. Except for the heart attack. That part was rough.
After the talent show I did the afternoon pick-up dash with a little extra stress and hustle. I woke Emma up from her nap at the babysitter's, which I hate doing because girlfriend needs all the sleep she can get, but we had to be at church by 4. We got home and had to quickly change the kids' clothes and run out the door. This notion was not accepted well by Benjamin, who'd clearly not taken a nap at preschool and who's used to watching a show when we get home. He had a full melt-down, about his dirty school wolf shirt of all things. He did not want to wear his nice clothes--he wanted to wear the shirt he'd worn all day that's two sizes too big and covered in a day of preschool boy wear. I took the obligatory picture anyway, because we worked hard to get that outfit on him, and Emma looked super cute. She was as confused about her brother's freak-out as the rest of us.
Matt was in a big fat hurry, so he locked up the house before I could get my purse and Emma's diaper bag. So we arrived at church, with no diaper bag for the baby and no phone for me, which is how you get paged out when your kid loses their self-control, which I was convinced would happen. Matt dragged Ben to his class, and I dropped Emma off at hers. Then we sat in the service, which was already starting, all worked up and agitated from the last hour of crazy. By the end of the opening worship I was a sniveling mess.
Don't pick fights with God, especially Easter weekend. He will always win. It's that whole "I died for you" card that he pulls.
Ben settled in just fine. We had a hard time getting him to actually leave. We had a nice dinner. Good Friday was saved.
Easter Sunday was starting off the same way Good Friday did. Running late, crabby kids, crabby parents. But we pulled through. My dad came down for the service, which was nice. Emma stayed with us because she had a cold. She passed out during closing worship, and we made it home in time to have my mom and step-dad over for lunch and some (happy) pictures in those adorable Easter duds.
On Sunday morning while we were playing I asked Ben what Easter was. He said that it's when Jesus died then became a zombie.
He is risen, indeed!
I think it's appropriate that my fight with God began on the evening of the last supper. Because it's totally appropriate to pick a fight with God as you enter the remembrance of the biggest sacrifice anyone has ever made ever. Also, in retrospect, last week was not exactly my last supper. But hyperbole is not new for me. And that retrospect could also be the Spring Break talking. At any rate, I arrived at Good Friday as most families do: dragging a kicking and screaming child.
Friday was a short-ish day at work. I needed to survive four periods, then lunch and the talent show. I love the talent show. It makes me feel happy to watch all my kids get up there and bravely sing Adele and dance their 12-year-old hearts out. This year, however, I had a new and unexpected reaction to the talent show. The "OMG I have a daughter and is she going to be the one singing showtoons or the one wearing the microscopic shorts doing what can only be described as pole dancing to some nasty song about objectifying women and OH MY GOSH I DON'T WANT A DAUGHTER" reaction, if you will.
So...yeah. I enjoyed it. Except for the heart attack. That part was rough.
After the talent show I did the afternoon pick-up dash with a little extra stress and hustle. I woke Emma up from her nap at the babysitter's, which I hate doing because girlfriend needs all the sleep she can get, but we had to be at church by 4. We got home and had to quickly change the kids' clothes and run out the door. This notion was not accepted well by Benjamin, who'd clearly not taken a nap at preschool and who's used to watching a show when we get home. He had a full melt-down, about his dirty school wolf shirt of all things. He did not want to wear his nice clothes--he wanted to wear the shirt he'd worn all day that's two sizes too big and covered in a day of preschool boy wear. I took the obligatory picture anyway, because we worked hard to get that outfit on him, and Emma looked super cute. She was as confused about her brother's freak-out as the rest of us.
Matt was in a big fat hurry, so he locked up the house before I could get my purse and Emma's diaper bag. So we arrived at church, with no diaper bag for the baby and no phone for me, which is how you get paged out when your kid loses their self-control, which I was convinced would happen. Matt dragged Ben to his class, and I dropped Emma off at hers. Then we sat in the service, which was already starting, all worked up and agitated from the last hour of crazy. By the end of the opening worship I was a sniveling mess.
Don't pick fights with God, especially Easter weekend. He will always win. It's that whole "I died for you" card that he pulls.
Ben settled in just fine. We had a hard time getting him to actually leave. We had a nice dinner. Good Friday was saved.
Easter Sunday was starting off the same way Good Friday did. Running late, crabby kids, crabby parents. But we pulled through. My dad came down for the service, which was nice. Emma stayed with us because she had a cold. She passed out during closing worship, and we made it home in time to have my mom and step-dad over for lunch and some (happy) pictures in those adorable Easter duds.
On Sunday morning while we were playing I asked Ben what Easter was. He said that it's when Jesus died then became a zombie.
He is risen, indeed!
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
February in Photos
Yes, it's April. Shut up about it.
Also, how cute are my kids?!?! Sometimes I wonder if people get jealous of me because they wish they could have kids as cute as mine. Probably, right?
It's Spring Break now, so prepare yourselves for the onslaught of posts.
Also, how cute are my kids?!?! Sometimes I wonder if people get jealous of me because they wish they could have kids as cute as mine. Probably, right?
It's Spring Break now, so prepare yourselves for the onslaught of posts.
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| I love these two |
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| I've had this shirt for a while. I recently saw the baby version at H&M, and I couldn't resist. |
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| this guy |
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| So yeah, Emma reads now. |
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| Ben started a band. I believe he called it "Ben's Band." |
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| "Happy Valentine's Day! Now move away from the TV, mom." |
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| pillow fort |
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| indoor picnic |
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Rest for the Weary
It's Spring Break. (Everyone breathe in....and exhale...)
We have partaken in the holy weekend rituals (that's a different post). And we've played. Oh how we've played. Saturday it was a thousand degrees, so we pulled out the pool. Monday morning we stayed in our pj's until noon, built pillow forts, had a backyard tea party, dug in the garden, put dinner in the crock pot, built with legos, had a photo shoot, and played superheroes. My mom took Emma for a couple of hours while Ben and I had a date at a nearby bounce house party place and had McDonald's for lunch. We all took an afternoon nap. After dinner Ben went to Nana's and Paca's to spend the night while Emma and I got coffee and perused Barnes and Noble. Today Emma went to the babysitter while I lounged all day in my pj's watching Downton Abbey and knitting, went to lunch with my husband, then watched some more TV.
And that, my dear readers, is how you do Spring Break. That is how you rest and heal.
We have partaken in the holy weekend rituals (that's a different post). And we've played. Oh how we've played. Saturday it was a thousand degrees, so we pulled out the pool. Monday morning we stayed in our pj's until noon, built pillow forts, had a backyard tea party, dug in the garden, put dinner in the crock pot, built with legos, had a photo shoot, and played superheroes. My mom took Emma for a couple of hours while Ben and I had a date at a nearby bounce house party place and had McDonald's for lunch. We all took an afternoon nap. After dinner Ben went to Nana's and Paca's to spend the night while Emma and I got coffee and perused Barnes and Noble. Today Emma went to the babysitter while I lounged all day in my pj's watching Downton Abbey and knitting, went to lunch with my husband, then watched some more TV.
And that, my dear readers, is how you do Spring Break. That is how you rest and heal.
