Thursday, September 30, 2010

The Important Half

There are a lot of ages that are worthy of great celebration.

Of course a first birthday is big.
Eight years old, for us means Baptism.
Twelve years old is a milestone in our house.
Sixteen of course will mean driving.
Eighteen means adulthood.
And so on and so forth.

But I have to say, though we've had several first birthdays, a couple of eight birthdays and soon a twelve year old birthday.  The one that causes me sheer elation with each child, is their first HALF birthday.

The one that means they are one and a half.
Which means they are EIGHTEEN months old.
Which means they can go to the Nursery while at church, and not go to classes with me (and Mike).

The nursery leaders were especially kind this last Sunday and let Drew come in four days early.
And though usually I am a crier, and have in fact cried upon leaving my first four children in nursery for the first time.  On Sunday I didn't.

I love Drew.
Really I do.
But today is a special day...
Drew is one and a HALF!

Happy Half Birthday Drew!!!

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

A Sunday Afternoon

Sunday afternoon we spent a few hours in Park City. Seems like we fit a lot into those few hours...
  • Dinner with in-laws/parents/grandparents in Park City (same people, different titles)
  • Playing chess with oversized pieces
  •  Ping-Pong with an over-enthusiastic eight year old who has never played
  • Disagreements about a hike vs a drive
  • Eating ice cream aside the inviting pool
  • Children sad it was Sunday and couldn't swim in the previously mentioned pool
  • Traditional attempts at the United States puzzle (No timer this time!)
  •  Mike and Tiffany alone on a beautiful, fall-colored canyon drive talking with NO INTERRUPTIONS.  (Thank you in-laws/parents/grandparents!)
  • A cranky one year old who needed a nap, got refried beans on the condo drapes, squooshed grapes in the carpet, emptied out a deck of cards, cried, explored, etc. etc.
  • Stopping at the park Mike wanted to check out on the way out of town
  • Arguments over the wooden bike
    •  Joshua's cowboy hat and then Joshua flying out of Daddy-Induced-Spinning Mushroom.
    • Whining that the allotted park play time was over
    • Sick-from-spinning-too-much eight and eleven year old, who remained quiet, dizzy and ill for the drive home.
    • Wound up children in the back seat that shall remain nameless receiving several warnings.  Remaining nameless three year old who cheekily laughed and scooffed at the thought "Dad says he'll stop."
    • Carrying through with said-threat of "I will pull over if you do not stop."
    • The laughter, sounds and smiles instantly stopping the same time as the car and no sounds from remaining-nameless-children as Daddy, Mommy and Megan played musical chairs...
    All that in a six hour period.
    No wonder everyone went to bed quickly and smoothly.

    Monday, September 27, 2010

    A Memory For Monday (With An Unkind Comment)

    As with most of the LDS women's population, I was deeply touched by the words spoken by President Thomas S. Monson at the General Relief Society Meeting on Saturday night.  Not only did it make me squirm a little in my seat, and feel some much earned guilt, but it motivated and encouraged me to be kinder to those around me.

    And so today, I'll remember a not so kind comment I once repeated.  This memory, along with Saturday's talk will be the beginning of a new challenge for me...

    In England in 1980-1981, the country was all abuzz with the engagement and upcoming marriage of Lady Diana and Prince Charles.  My 1st grade class was equally alive with the excitement and enthusiasm of one of the top news stories of the time. We wrote letters and sent pictures to the Soon-To-Be Princess and Prince Charles.  Our class was thrilled with the letter we had returned to us, water-marked from Buckingham Palace.  (I also sent a letter myself and still cherish my personal reply!)

    And so it was with pride, joy and childish excitement that the following photo appeared in our local newspaper with a short caption chronicling the recent events and general excitement of our class.

    Cheam Park Farm Infant School 1st grade 
    (I am on the top right)

    Upon seeing the photo in the newspaper, my mother innocently remarked, "Too bad Leigh has her mouth wide open in the photo."

    The next morning, immediately upon seeing Leigh at school I retorted, "My mum said you ruined our picture in the paper because your mouth was open big."  I remember feeling slight fear when Leigh's tears immediately started and I quickly attempted to take back my words as fears of her telling the teacher overcame me.

    I don't remember if she did tell the teacher.
    But I remember feeling really sad that I made her cry.
    I should never have repeated to anyone what I heard my mother say.

    And thirty years later, I can't help but mentally writhe as I realize,
    If I can remember this event, perhaps she does too...

    Thursday, September 23, 2010

    Tipping Thoughts

    The other night following a delicious dinner of curry, Mike and I did what we usually do after a trip to Royal India and went to Baskin Robbins.  (Indian restaurant for dinner, followed by rocky road ice cream for me and nutty coconut for him is an almost perfect date.)

    While chatting away in between bites of delicious chocolate goodness and Mike telling me to wipe it off of my chin and corners of my mouth, (I was really enjoying it.) I couldn't help but notice the couple that walked in the door.  As the couple perused the ice cream selection, I guiltily told Mike I felt like I should buy the lady her ice cream...

    You see, for years (and maybe still is) this older aged lady was a waitress at a iconic restaurant during my high school and college years.  Most of my friends, my BFF and I in particular frequented the restaurant throughout those years.  And well, though I am somewhat ashamed to admit it publicly, Melanie and I were not very good tippers...

    (It is at this point that I defend myself and say I am not the same way at all, as for Melanie, well, she'll have to speak for herself...)

    But all this brings me to my controversial point.
    Sometimes I have a slight problem with tipping.
    (Melanie and Tiffany, 1996--obviously this sign caught our attention...)

    Not necessarily at restaurants, that is fine.  (Although I have HUGE frustrations with waitresses/waiters that complain about their hourly wage/tips, etc.  And though I have NEVER taken that type of job, so I may not understand it entirely, I do know that when they take the job they KNOW that their base pay is minimal and they have to rely on tips.  They know this!!)

    For the record though, I really am a decent restaurant tipper now.  In fact, I consider myself a good tipper.   Especially on the rare occasion we are at a restaurant with all five of the children!

    Ok, so restaurants may not be my huge issue anymore.  But, what about a deli?  What about nail salons? What about hotel bell boys?  What about taxi drivers?  What about the high school kid that carts out your groceries?  What about the guys that deliver a new sofa?

    And though my restaurant tipping is far better than years ago, I had a moment of my old tipping days just recently when my girlfriend and I were beginning a fabulous afternoon/evening of no children at a nail salon getting a pedicure.

    Small Details:
    #1 I did not turn on my massage chair.  I do not like them.  The lady came and turned it on for me.  I turned it off.
    #2 I think their talking in a foreign language the whole time is very rude to the customers that obviously can't understand them.
    #3 Something started burning.  It was not a good smell. I asked the man about it and he did eventually open the door, but it smelled very badly in there.

    And so, when  it came time to pay.  I did not feel inclined to pay my usual pedicure tip...
    I had a headache from the smell...
    My girlfriend was still wobbly from her massage chair (Ok, not really, but why did that lady think she could keep turning them on and off?)...
    The people were kind of rude and unfriendly...

    And so I made an executive decision for the two of us... Kim and I saved our tip and enjoyed an ice cream treat later that evening.

    Am I wrong to think those at our service are not entitled to tips, they must earn them?

    (And no, I didn't buy the waitress her ice cream at Baskin Robbins.  Nor did I leave any change in the 'tip cup' by the register...)

    Tuesday, September 21, 2010

    Speed, Pride and Humility

    This morning amidst the crazy morning routine of breakfast, practicing, teeth brushing, forgotten homework and hair-dos, Luke and Megan were chattering away.

    (Have I ever told you how much I love the silence from constant chatter when the three older kids walk out the door at 8:21am?)

    Whilst clattering away at the kitchen sink, I was half listening to Luke ramble on about him being one of the fastest runners in his class.  I told him that in 5th and 6th grade I was the FIFTH fastest runner in my class EVERY time.  (First four fastest could be on the school running team.)  Luke kind of ignored me amidst his continual chatter, but then the next thing I said caught his attention.

    "Yesterday while running with Brittney and Lori, Lori said, "Race you to the end (where we turn around)."
    (And race I did.)
    "I ran faster than I had in a long time."
    Luke was quite proud when I concluded with, "I won."

    "Well how fast did you run?" questioned Luke

    To which I replied, "What do you mean 'how fast'?" "I beat them.  But how do I measure it?  If you mean am I faster than lightning speed, no.  But I ran fast." I concluded childishly defensively.

    And that was all Luke and I needed for a friendly competition.
    (Have I ever told you I am slightly competitive?)

    So leaving the bagels and juice on the counter, and me abandoning the dishes in the sink, and Drew and Joshua whining about why everyone was exiting out the door, Luke and I were off to race.  Megan tagged along and was giving non-stop advice about the distance, location and race rules.
    (Have I mentioned my kids talk pretty much constantly?)

    And with Luke's "On your mark, get set, GO." Off we went racing down the cul-de-sac, me slightly trailing Luke at the beginning and then I was off, reaching the tree marker end, well before Luke.

    "Wow, you're fast" Luke humbly acknowledged as the race concluded.
    And then I challenged Megan to a race. (I barely came in ahead of Megan, but for the sake of good mothering, I'll recede to saying it was a slight tie.)

    Back to the kitchen we returned, me to the dishes and the kids to their breakfast.

    In between a swallow of juice and a bite of bagel, I heard Luke quietly say,

    "I didn't think you'd be so fast.  You're older than me."

    And that was this morning's impromptu lesson on cockiness.

    Monday, September 20, 2010

    A Memory For Monday (With the Neighbor Boy)

    I have a pretty good memory when it comes to fairly useless information.  (Who was wearing what when, what I was doing on a particularly random date, when childhood friends birthdays are, etc. etc.)  Ask me about something academic I remember during the time spent earning my college degree though, and I will draw a blank.

    Anyway, back to my ability to remember birthdays...

    Yesterday, Ellie was talking about the first day of Fall that is coming up this week.  And I remembered that it very often coincides with a birthday I remember each year.  September 21st is an old childhood friend's birthday, Matthew James.
     (Matthew James & Tiffany, December 1981)

    I have lots of stories I could regale you with about Matthew James...
    • The time he pinned me against his garage wall and stuck his tongue down my throat. (We were five years old.)
    • The time he got sent home from my older brother's birthday party because he wouldn't behave.
    • The times I voluntarily participated in kissing him back.  (For the record, I would be APPALLED if my children had kissing friends?!?!?!)
    • The time in 4th grade (or so) when he had to sit with an empty bucket in front of him and was told to fill it with spit, because he kept spitting at other kids.
    • The time I whispered 4 x 8 = 32 to him in class so he wouldn't have to sit down during a multiplication game.
    • The time we 'stole' chocolates from the Quality Street tin under our Christmas Tree while my mom was in the shower.
    • The time a girl in our 6th grade class got very excited because I told Matthew James that I was never and had never 'officially' been his girlfriend, and he and Emily could be girlfriend/boyfriend.
    • Or the last time I saw him, when we were both 16 years old.  I was visiting England for the first time since moving away and went to visit Matthew with another old friend of mine.  I politely declined his generous offer of sharing what he was smoking with me.  (It was not a legal cigarette...)
    Instead, I'll just tell you briefly why I think about Matthew James every single Valentine's Day.  Valentine's Day was not celebrated by children in England, but for some reason Matthew and I always exchanged creative Valentine's Day cards.  We always assumed another identity, usually one of fiction (such as Lucy and Charlie Brown) or one of celebrity status (think Lady Di and Prince Charles) or even an animal identity (his family dog, Jego, and my family dog, Lady).  It was a tradition that began when we were children and continued even until young teenagers.  It ended when my family moved away in 1988.

    But, I still think about him from time to time.  When I tell my children stories of our neighborhood growing up, he is often mentioned.  I ask mutual friends about him occasionally via Facebook and I of course hope all is well with him in his life.  I have a lot of fond memories of him and hope that tomorrow, September 21st, he has a Happy Birthday!

    Happy Monday!

    Friday, September 17, 2010

    Luke's Latest

    Recently while alone I saw an advertisement for an old fashioned rocking horse.  I briefly thought how much my boys would love that, and thought nothing more of it. Until that evening after dinner, when completely coincidentally,  Luke called me outside to show me what he had been working on all afternoon...

    A wooden horse.

    Take a closer look at that handi-work:

    Although it doesn't quite rock, and the paper-towel mane was removed by a mother who didn't know it was a horse mane to wipe the nose of a toddler, the boys (Mike and the neighbor adult included) love it.

    I wish I had a photo of Mike riding the horse while Kellen pulled it in the wagon.  (Actually, I'm glad I don't have photo proof because then you don't necessarily have to believe that my neighbor and my husband looked like complete fools...)

    And though this horse would never be sold in a magazine or advertised on the television, it is yet another of Luke's creative projects that I wish I could keep forever.

    And, I'm not sure the horse is completely finished yet.  The last words out of Luke's mouth this morning as he left for the bus were not "Bye Mom" or "I love you" or even "See you later."  They were, "I'm going to put stir-ups on my horse when I get home."

    Post Edit:

    Wednesday, September 15, 2010

    Joyful Kids

    Recently I wrote a journal entry about how and why I find joy in mothering.  Though a lot of it I'm choosing to keep in my personal journal, obviously, I wouldn't be able to find joy in mothering without finding joy in my children.  And that is something, of course I need to record in our family history (it's 2010, so a blog it is!).

    I love when Drew clenches his fist and laughs a big fake laugh. I love when he wakes up in the morning and grins ear to ear when he first sees me. I love hearing the pitter-patter run of his feet on the tile floor. I love his blank funny looking crooked facial expressions with his head tilted just so. I love that he lays his head down on my shoulders and starts humming the tune to "I Love To See The Temple" or "I Hope They Call Me on A Mission."
    I love that each morning, Joshua runs to where I am in the house with open arms and a big hug as though he hasn’t seen me in days. I love his word pronunciations with no ‘r’ or ‘l’ sounds. I love that he still wants ‘holdies’ . I love that he says the word ‘actually’ when he changes his mind about something. I love the way he stares at photos or pictures of cowboys with a longing in his eyes. I love his facial expressions. I love that he wears almost the same outfit everyday.And I love his random thoughts, like when he was getting out of the car at Grandma Laurie's house recently, dressed in his cowboy garb, complete with hat and rope, he announced, "There's nothing to 'wope' here. I should have brought some calves." (?!?)
    I love Ellie's sleepy face in the mornings. I love her grown-up expressions and conversations. I love her love of baby dolls and hearing her call them (or her little brothers) 'sweetheart'. I love the grocery bags that she fills with paper, notebooks, etc to go and play. I love that she loves shoes.   I love her quiet, pondering face.  I love that she wants so badly to be grown up, but is still a little girl. I love (ok, not really) that I sometimes still catch her sucking her thumb.
    I love Luke's unique personality and his desire and confidence to like what he likes. I love (ok, not always) his constant chatter. I love that Luke's eyes can't help but light up when he sees me at the school, even though his body language tries to say he doesn’t notice me/or care I'm there. I love the way he stares out the window as we pass horse fields until they are out of view.  I love his inquisitive mind and his desire to work hard. I love that he tells me he plays with Ellie at recess.

    I love Megan's maturity. I love (ok not always) that she mothers her siblings. I love that I never have to worry if she’ll remember her manners and be polite and respectful. I love that she explores her talents. I love that she is full of energy and always has something to say. I love her desire to be kind to others. I love that she told me about seeing Ellie at school and the proud look on Megan's face when she said, "Ellie really is the cutest first grader."

    (Megan and Cousin Annie)

    Of course in reality a few of these joys (ie. constant chatter, hearing someone mother her siblings and a sleepy morning self) also cross over into whatever the antonym of joy is... And though my house is rarely quiet; if it isn’t a tantrum it is an over excited child that needs to wind down, if it isn’t a musical instrument, it is a drill sound coming from the garage, if it isn’t laughter, it is screaming (Drew’s latest antic), if it isn’t tattling, it is whining, and so on and so forth...

    But truly, I find joy in my children.
    ... most of the time

    Monday, September 13, 2010

    A Memory For Monday (With Granny & Grandad Next Door)

    Just this last Saturday afternoon, I chose Megan and Luke to accompany me to Costco.  Considering it was a Saturday at one of the busiest stores around, it was quite a pleasant trip.  Taking into consideration my regular shopping entourage; a three year old and a one year old... shopping with an almost twelve year old and almost nine year old was sheer bliss.

    As we approached the check-out stand, we passed the part of Costco I usually try to quickly pass by without a sideways glance.  (Chocolate covered almonds, chocolate covered raisins, Costco size package of Lindt chocolate, etc. etc.)  Yet for some reason on Saturday, in my more relaxed than usual, frame of mind, (Not having to deal with a three year old and one year old while shopping does wonders for positive mental health...) I glanced to the side and a box of assorted chocolates immediately caught my eye.

    And for some reason, as I picked up the box of assorted chocolates to look at, I got a big lump in my throat and in a sudden moment of nostalgia, I began to tell my children about Granny and Grandad Next Door...

    Growing up on Carlton Crescent, we lived next door to an elderly couple.  I can't even tell you what their names were, because to us, they were Granny and Grandad Next Door.  (My paternal grandparents were also known as Granny and Grandad to us, so the Next Door was always added as clarification.)

    Grandad Next Door had an immaculate garden.  His tulips in the spring and roses in the summer were a beautiful sight.  It was not very often we had much association with them besides greetings and chats across a garden fence, or the occasional knock at the door to retrieve a ball.

    But, if you did for some reason go into their house, we were always taken into the back room, where Granny Next Door was always sitting (she didn't venture outside nearly as much as Grandad Next Door).   And there was always a tin with Kit-Kats inside and a box of assorted chocolates sitting on a table, that we were invited to choose from.

    So there I stood amidst scores of shoppers in Costco on a Saturday, blinking away tears while telling my children about Granny and Grandad Next Door's flower gardens and the smell of their house. It was that simple memory of our kind, gracious, elderly neighbors that caused me to arrive home from Costco on Saturday with a box of assorted chocolates.

    But the real laughter and appreciation from the children (and Mike) came later in the afternoon while we were each eating a chocolate.  I told them about the time a neighbor friend and I decided to make homemade perfume by mixing talcum powder and water together in old baby juice bottles to sell.  I told them about selling a bottle to Grandad Next Door and was scared and didn't know what to say or do when Grandad Next Door handed me his ten pence piece and said, "Thank you very much. Granny will really enjoy drinking this."

    Hopefully Grandad Next Door's purchase was simply a courtesy to a young neighbor girl and he didn't offer  to Granny Next Door what he had mistakenly understood was a drink...

    Happy Monday!

    Thursday, September 9, 2010

    Around Here

    Saturday morning as I approached the neighborhood after exercising, I saw Ellie leaving the doorstep of the neighbor's house down the street.  Fortunately, I hadn't been a few minutes later.  Or, I may have not got the chance to tell the dad, to "Ignore the invitation that was just delivered.  There is no tea party at our house at one o'clock today."  Sound familiar?
    Luke shocked us all by saying 'math' and 'fun' in the same sentence!!!!!!!!!!  Luke loves his new school teacher  and is enthusiastically relaying keyboarding lessons, reading in the classroom tent, and math games.  Although enthusiastic in nearly all areas of his life, school (and piano) show the least enthusiasm.  As parents we are thrilled at this added enthusiasm.
    Megan spent a night with Grandma Laurie and came home with the recently purchased material, sewn into a skirt.  I'm sure there was plenty more love and harmony between Grandma Laurie and Megan during the cutting out material and sewing than during the hemming part Megan and I finished at home....  That part wasn't so loving and harmonious...
    While driving through downtown Salt Lake City recently, I spontaneously told Mike to stop the car and took a few of the kids on a Trax train ride though the free fare zone of the city.  Joshua didn't stop smiling.
    It is a proud moment 95% of the time when Drew is asked 'Where's your nose?' he gets it right and there is no laughter from siblings.  (The other 5% of the time his finger goes up his nostril and laughter is heard from sibling onlookers...)

    And that's about as exciting as our life gets around here!

    Tuesday, September 7, 2010

    Parenting at it's Finest

    Recently Mike sent me the following photo, courtesy of his cell phone...

     (Drew's shorts had previously been removed after he was literally stuck in some wet mud almost up to his calves and could not move...)

    Recently, we were at an outdoor party complete with live music, great food, good company and some ______.

    Back to the photo:
    I'm not sure if Drew got placed in the horse trough during the aforementioned party,
    a. for a good photo opportunity
    b. because he wanted to
    c. so Mike didn't have to keep chasing him
    d. because Drew had drank a little too much beer earlier to notice where he was standing...

    And that part is no lie.

    While relaxing, visiting and enjoying the evening, I glanced over at Drew just in time to see him with a beer bottle up to his mouth and his head tilted back....

    Despite the fact, it would have made for a great photo memory,  I opted instead for responsible parenting and quickly ran to his side, removed the bottle from his grasp, wiped the beer from his lip and reminded myself that I've never ever claimed to be in the running for Mother of the Year...

    Monday, September 6, 2010

    A Memory for Monday (September 1996)

    Following the Sunday evening on the hammock with Mike, I continued on with my plans to go to England.  (Yes Susie, of course, I saw you during that trip!)  

    I promised Mike I would send him a postcard every single day.  (I now know Mike well enough to know, he probably didn't really care if he got a postcard or not, but he went a long with my kind gesture.)  In fact, I came across these postcards just a few weeks ago, and really was quite amazed how much information I publicly shared in an-anyone-can-read-it-postcard.  (Especially his mother who probably got to the mail, long before he did...)

    I also tried calling Mike once, on Labor Day.  Thinking he would be home, I called his house, but he was boating at the lake.  When his mother asked if he could call me back, I replied, "No, it's ok.  I"m in England, by the time he gets home it will be too late here." 
    (Mel and Tiff at one of my very favorite places in the whole world; Boxhill, England, 1996)

    My trip to England was a great two weeks of contemplation.  Aided by my BFF joining me for the last week there.  In between me tour guiding and Melanie being the tourist, we daydreamed, made bets, and speculated of my future with Mike.

    And it was on this trip, that I had my last serious, deep conversation with my beloved Granny.  I told her that I thought maybe I would marry Mike.  Her reply was, "I know you will marry a good man. You needn't think too much about it."

    And really, to make a long story short.
    I came home nervous, anxious, excited and thrilled to see Mike.
    A few days after returning home, Mike and I, hmmm, how should I put it?

    After more than two years of being friends, we moved forward...

    (I know my eyes are closed, but remember this was in the days before digital cameras to see your picture.  
    Melanie, Tiffany, Brett and  Mike--and their London Policeman hats we brought them back as souvenirs.)

    Within a couple of weeks, we knew we would get married. And so with me attending the University of Utah full time, working three jobs and him running his landscaping company, and forty miles between us we 'dated' for the next five months, before actually deciding to get a ring, set a date and move forward.

    But the love story isn't over yet.
    And I'm not talking about now.

    I'm talking about the day Mike proposed...

    Stay tuned for why I went into the ladies bathroom stall at a restaurant to cry on the day Mike proposed and why I pinched Mike's cheek really hard after him proposing....

    Happy Monday!

    Saturday, September 4, 2010

    An Outdoor Carnefel

    Friday night was time again for another Family 'Carnefel.'  Of course, as usual, each child was responsible to come up with an activity (or two) for all to join in. 

    This time we had a few firsts...
    Not only was it outside, but we had our good friends and neighbors, Kellen, Kari, Miles and not quite two week old baby Damon join us, and a prize table!

    (The only condition of our friends joining us was that they didn't laugh at what to us, is so normal...creative kids, unique activities, etc. etc.)

    The 'timed straw sucking to move paper stars activity', courtesy of Megan (Which Megan won.)
    (Megan) (Ellie)
    The 'dropping a small disc up high into a bowl' activity, courtesy of Ellie. Which after participating, won you three Starburst.  Kari won this game.
    (Ellie, Kellen and Daddy) (Megan, Kari and Miles)
    The "'mechanican' bull on the trampoline so you don't get hurt", courtesy of Luke.   I'm not sure who actually won.
     (Luke and Joshua Luke and Ellie)
    Throwing balls into a bowl of dyed green water, courtesy of Megan.  Which Your's Truly skillfully won.
    (Back of Megan, Kellen, back of Miles, Ellie and Drew)
    Roping the calf, courtesy of Luke.  Which, Kellen, a former rodeo roper, won.
    A timed obstacle course, courtesy of Megan.  Which Daddy clearly won in just eleven seconds!
    (Ellie and Mom)
    And with the small paper stars Megan distributed to all based on participation and scores, was the chance to pick out prizes at the end.  The prize table, courtesy of Dad's money, Mom's time and Megan's effort was a big hit.
    (Megan and Luke)
    And of course we can't ignore the impromptu sand-box playing and the jalepeno eating contest that no-one but Mike and Megan were dumb enough, did.
    (Megan and Mike) 
    (Miles and Drew)

    And that is how we spent Friday night. 

    Thursday, September 2, 2010

    Nobody Told Me

    The part I dislike most about baby/wedding showers is the 'give advice' part.
    But maybe I should have actually listened. Because there are lots of things lately that catch me by surprise just a little and I think....

    Nobody told me:

    That when a bike helmet is nowhere to be found, it is because it got thrown in the outside garbage by the 3 year old--the day before garbage day!

    That there would be socks everywhere. Bedrooms, kitchen floors, mudroom floor, shoe baskets, in the car. Socks are all over the place.

    That sometimes my tongue would quite literally be sore from biting it one too many times, when an argument with a spouse may not quite be worth it that day.

    That children rarely notice discomfort when a swimming suit or underwear  is on backwards, or has gone awry. 

    That a child gets out a new cup each time they need a drink of water, resulting in an inability to see the counter tops. 

    That some children will not care where their toothbrush has been found (next to the toilet, in the toy room), they will still use it.

    That when children are missing something. They will ask you where it is, before looking in the actual place it belongs.

    That sometimes husbands and wives should sometimes go to bed mad at each other. Why spew a bunch of meaningless words? Just go to sleep back to back, each clinging to their edge of the bed so there is no possiblity of any feet or arms accidentally touching. You can talk about it in the morning.

    That if the beaters to the Kitchen-Aid mixer are missing, I should look in the kitchen trash can.

    That toddlers don't care if there is an ant hill growing on a piece of cracker left on the floor. They will still eat it.

    I've never been one to disperse advice to others at showers or weddings, etc. I'm certainly in no position to give it....

    Besides, the only piece of advice I have actually remembered from one of my wedding/baby showers was, "SMILE." But I don't always take it to heart, in fact, I don't always remember it. Because honestly, some days, I'd much rather cry.


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