The Move

Well, we finally took the plunge and moved to Ripon. We love our quirky house and our community (also a bit quirky). Ripon reminds me a lot of my hometown Middletown in some ways. But instead of cowboys and hippies (yes...Middletown is an interesting place), it's a Dutch colony. Everyone loves thier church, knows how to cook, and is related to every single other person in some way. Not being related to anyone puts us a little bit on the outs, but I figure it will work in our boys' favor when it comes time for them to marry. I still need to get a windmill for the front yard. All in good time. Moving never comes without it's set of challenges, especially when kids are involved. However, the kids did surprisingly well. They took everything in stride. This time it was actually the adults involved that made things interesting. Enter: the Thompsons.

Mom: Hi, honey! We're heeeeeeere! So excited to help with your move!

Me: Mom. You're supposed to be helping me move junk OUT, not bringing more in!
Mom: Oh, honey. I just had a few things set aside for you.
Me: Wait...is this all the stuff I told you I didn't want when I was at your house last time?

Dad: Honey, check it out. I got your mom's IPad all set up. Got her all the apps she needs.

Me: Let's see. You got her the Kindle app, the Bible app...and the farting app. Yep, I'd say you pretty much covered the basics.

We immediately loved everything about the new place except for the boys' room. I could have settled for just about any color, but the pink had to go. So I sent Dave to pick out the paint. No really, I did. Stop laughing. I was busy, ok???

Me: So I'm thinking a nice light gray so it's not too babyish. Not too dark and not too tan, but a true gray. Do you know what I mean?
Dave: Gray. You got it! Sounds great.

Dave: Alright, got the paint! I can get started today while you finish up packing. This will be great.

Me: Um...bright baby blue. Not very gray, is it?
Dave: Wait, you said blue! Oh.....no, that was at our other house three years ago. Oops.

Proof that his long term memory is fantastic, but not so much his short term memory. But we were tired and short on time and I didn't want to hasstle with it. So the boys have a blue room. Still better than pink. And I know Dave's intentions were good...just like my parents'...

Dad: Yeah, moving can be tough. Seems like something always gets damaged...or lost...or flies off the back of a truck.

Me: ..........
Dad: .........

Me: Dad, what did you do?
Dad: Honey, I didn't know the ottoman wasn't secure! Anyway, you still have one...it just doesn't have a lid anymore.
Mom: I can't believe it, Doug. That was their coffee table!

Turns out the blue room and the missing lid to the ottoman were the tip of the iceburg. We spent the first ten days with no washer or dryer, a broken garbage disposal, no internet, and a teensie weensie bug problem that caused all five of us to sleep in one room every night. It's kind of hard to remember all of that because now, a month later, we are more settled than we've ever been in any house. And of course the boys didn't notice any of it. Truly blessed.

What's For Dinner?

My husband works very hard for his family...bless his heart. As much as he would love to absorb family life and work details simultaneously, his brain won't let him. He's all or nothing. Here's a discussion we had on Thursday.

Me: Wow, I hope I made enough spaghetti. Do you think I made enough for the potluck?
Dave: Yep. (*thinking* These sales numbers don't look right. Something smells like spaghetti.)

Me: I'm glad I had everything on hand to make it. I wanted to make something you would like because I know you get nervous about potluck food.
Dave: Yep. (*thinking* Gotta revamp our marketing strategy for the next show. I wonder what's for dinner.)

Me: I know we have spaghetti all the time, but at least it's something we can all agree on. Did you have lunch at the office?
Dave: Yep. (*thinking* I'll call Martin in the morning and run these numbers by him. I'm starving. Did I eat lunch today?)

Me: Ok, I think we're ready to go. Can you help me carry this huge pot of spaghetti?
Dave: Yep. (*thinking* Can't forget to swing by the storage unit on the way to the office tomorrow. Man, I feel like spaghetti.)

Dave: Oh my gosh, we're having spaghetti???

At least he was pleasantly surprised.

Mommy's Breakfast

I'm really not sure why I do it. I could, and probably should, stuff a granola bar in my mouth and call it good. But some mornings I feel really ambitious and I try to sit down with a cup of coffee and a hot breakfast. I tried it again a couple days ago. This is what happened.




I made breakfast for the kids. Then I made some for myself and put it on the counter with a plate on top to keep it warm. The baby required about 20 minutes of attention before I could get him settled and sit down to my not-so-hot-but-still-warm breakfast.



William: Mommy, Georgie ripped the book!
Me: Uh, oh. Tell him to come to Mommy.



Me: Georgie, don't rip the books. Wait...do you have a dirty diaper? Yep, let's go.



Me: Ok, all better, Georgie.
William: Mommy, can I have some milk?




Me: Here's some milk.
George: Juice!




Me: Georgie, here's some juice.



William: Can we sit with you?
Me: Honey, I really need you to go play so I can eat.



George: Bite? Bite?
Me: No, sweetie. You already had breakfast.



Me: Ok, guys. Mommy needs to eat, so you're going to have "room time" now.
William: Yay! I love room time!



Me: The gate stays up until Mommy finishes breakfast. Play quietly.



(Fighting, screaming, crying)



Me: That's enough, boys. Mommy said play quietly. You need to be kind and share. Now I'm going to back to the table, so you need to work it out yourselves.



William: Mommy, Mommy! Can you please help me be a ghost?




George: Me! Ghost, too!



Me: There. You are both ghosts. Now I'm going back to the table and I don't want you to call me again.



William: Mommy? Moooooooommy! I have to go pee.



Me: Ok, go potty and come right back.
George: Yay! Room time all done!



Me: No, Georgie. Room time isn't over yet. William will be right back. Play quietly.



George: Mommy. Mommy. Mommymommymommymommymommymommymommymo -



Me: WHAT????
George: ......Hi, Mommy.



William: Mommy, I'm all done going potty. I need you to let me back in the gate.




Me: Ok, now Mommy needs to finish breakfast. I need just ten minutes of alone, quiet time. PLEASE.



(Sigh)




Well, the quiet part never did work out. Neither did the "hot breakfast" part. But I figure I have many years of hot breakfasts ahead of me and only a handful of years to make ghosts and be called "Mommy." So I'll be happy with my cold clammy pancakes.

Having Kids Close Together

We have been blessed to have our children close together. It's not something I can recommend or not recommend because everyone's personality is different. But for us, it's been a blast...a blast AND a challenge. My hands are always full, my ears are often ringing, and it's a gaurantee that my floors are strewn with dinosaurs. (Yep, just checked.) When you have children close in age it can be hard to tell from their behavior who's actually older. Our middle child likes to think he's the oldest. For example...



..he likes to supplement my discipline. I heard William screaming on time out the other day, only to find George beating him with a plastic hammer. Apparently he thought my choice of punishement was insufficient. I guess "Don't kick a man when he's down" hasn't worked it's way into our training yet. Often from the other room I hear:



George: Sit down, William!
William: No. I will not obey you, George.



William: Ouch! Mommy, my hair!!!

But William is not quick to give up his big brother role. While George (2) is more of a dictator, William (3) is a teacher and a comfortor.



George: Itchy!
William: There's nothing we can do about it, George. Take a vitamin.

A benefit of having three babies close together is that sometimes they can interpret for each other.



George: Baby sad.
William: He's scared. He thinks Mommy's head looks like a wolf.

But sometimes I'm the only one around to interpret and I'm not quite prepared for what I hear. Like when William was making up silly words and landed on a real swear word by mistake.



William: Peter, you little b******.

(Yes, I promise that one was an accident. So if you ever hear him say it again...it's NOT an accident.)

Our kids have had to become independent more quickly since there's always a baby to take their place. We are enjoying the benefits of this. They are learning patience and sharing from an early age. They also have to share Mommy's time. Sometimes when my hands are full George takes it upon himself to answer his own questions.



George: I jump on the bed, Mommy?
Me: Well -



George: Sure, George!

I honestly can't keep up with all the questions, requests, stories, etc. they throw at me all day long. Everyone says to soak up this time, which is what I try to do, but sometimes it's more like drinking from a fire hose. At times all I can do is stand quietly in one place while toddler antics swirl around me.




William: Messiah just called. He's coming to fix the light bulbs.



George: Mommy! Mommy! Elmo POOPED!

It doesn't matter how much they make my head spin every day. When they're in bed at night I can't wait to hear what's on thier minds when they wake up the next day.



Me: Did you have a good night's sleep, William?
William: Yep. I slept for three hours. I dreamed about donkeys. They were sisters.



William: But I'm feeling really pregnant today...

Parenting little ones close in age definitely requires teamwork. Dave jumps in when he can...or whenever I let him. Sometimes you just know when the "help" will create more work for you in the end.



Dave: Would it help if I made dinner tonight?
Me: Oh, honey...no.



Dave: Yeah, I guess me making dinner is like you giving directions - painful for the other person to watch.

They are just getting old enough for us to start reaping the biggest benefit of having kids close together - they are best friends. I just heard William, from sitting on the toilet, call to George to come give him a hug. (I intervened when I realized he was also trying to help George up onto his lap.) They look out for each other and they miss each other when they are apart. They are thick as thieves, in the good and the bad. "A strand of three cords is not easily broken." (Ecclesiastes 4:12)