Sick Kids

With three "three and under," we definitely get our share of sniffles and coughs. Thankfully we have never experienced all three sick at the same time. About two weeks ago they took shifts. I hate seeing my kids sick, but I also love taking care of them. Everything else gets put on hold - this is my job and I wouldn't rather be doing anything else. But it presents it's own unique set of challenges each time.

George: Help, Mommy!!!!! I need a tissue!!!
Me: George, you have to wait. I need to give Peter his medicine and then I will help you.

Me: No, that was not an invitation to use my finger as a tissue!

Me: Here, Peter. Take your yummy medicine! Yum, yum!

Ah, the lovely gag reflex.

William: Mommy, I want medicine, too!
Me: Honey, medicine is only for when you are very sick. You don't even have a runny nose.

William: I have FIVE boogies!

While impressed that he was counting, I was unmoved. Some kids beg for medicine and others just can't get it down. William would rather be sick than healthy just so he could have medicine.

The diaper situation is less than pleasant when kids are sick. Thankfully I've never had three in diapers, but I've had two in diapers for most of my (short) parenting career. It's even harder when they resist being changed.

Me: George, did you poop?

Me: Georgie, Mommy asked you a question.
George: I not poopy. I dead.

So, I have kids who would rather be sick than healthy, and rather be dead than...changed? *sigh* There is a vague spiritual parallel in there somewhere, but I'll let someone else dig around for it.

Now they are all back to their smiley healthy selves, asking their mind bending questions. As I was tucking them in last night I reminded them that God made them. William wanted to know if there were any choking hazards in my tummy while he was there, and George wanted to know if God also made his boogies. (Don't subscribe to the Mommy Reel if you can't handle the word "boogies.")

Now they are napping and it's my chance to clean calamine lotion off the couch and see if the lunch food on the floor has sufficiently dried up enough to be swept. Then I'll wait to see which pink, sleepy face appears down the hall first. It's a good life.

A Husband Walks into a Store...

Me: Ok, here's the list! I only need three things and they will be easy to find at Dollar General.
Dave: Yep! No problem.

Me: Hello? Hi, honey. The pasta sauce is on the right next to the pasta, bottom shelf. No, that's way too expensive! Just get the stuff for a dollar a can. Are you sure? That's so weird, they always have it. Oh well, never mind. I don't know why it's so expensive all of a sudden. I'll make due without it.

Me: Hello?
Dave: Hi, honey. I don't see any fresh garlic. All I can find is a jar of minced garlic.
Me: Wow, no garlic? Did you check by the onions?
Dave: Yeah, they don't have anything like that here.
Me: Darn. Well, I'll think of something else. Just get the canned tomatoes.
Dave: Two bucks a can, right?
Me: They are usually a dollar! Yeah, get those I guess. Man, I usually have much better luck there.

William: What are we having for dinner, Mommy?
Me: I'm not sure, sweetie. It's a little up in the air right now.

Cashier: Do you have a CVS card, sir?
Dave: Nope.

Dave: That's funny. I thought Dollar General had green bags.

Dave: ..........

Me: Honey! You didn't have to go to two different stores for me!

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.