The Bunk Beds

The boys are now in bunk beds.

Finally.

No more jumping through an obstacle course to get past the crib and bed in one room to retrieve an item.  No more Noah jumping in his crib that has gone through three kids and was literally about to fall apart as he stood there.  No more complaining of not enough space.

The bunk beds are in and my two boys are very happy.

Along with the bunk beds came the task of making Noah stay in his bed.  With the older two, they were a bit challenging so considering Noah is a complete crazy child, I figured that I had my work cut out for me.

Before the first nap time in his big boy bed, I explained to him that he could not get out of his bed.  If he did, he would get a spanking.

(Note to those who do not know me well-spankings are given in our house for complete disobedience and, at this point in time, are usually for Noah and his well cushioned, diaper-covered butt.)

He knew the consequences, he knew what to do and he went to bed, promising to stay in it.

I positioned myself near the top of the stairs, where I could lean down and see under the door.  Within thirty seconds, I saw little feet walking around in the room.

I immediately opened the door and he was in trouble.  We repeated this a few times, until he finally stayed in his bed.  However, he took two hours to fall asleep and had eventually emptied the entire bookshelf.  Awesome.

After that long afternoon and his complete grumpiness, he finally agreed that my way was better and has stayed in bed and taken awesome naps ever since then.

Seriously, it only took one day?  Mr. Noah surprised me.

The downfall to this method of mine is that every time he talks about his new bed, he follows it up by saying, "I get out of bed and Mommy spanks my butt."

Yes, he says this in public.  He said it in the waiting room of the podiatrist while Abby had an appointment.  He said this in chapel at the elementary school.  He says it to everyone he meets.

Noah, I love you, but hush, child.

Getting ready for naptime

Promising to stay in



Finally asleep right when it was time to get up

Go Ahead And Judge

Not sure why we thought having three kids would be a good idea. 

When one of them has something to do, the other two have to go along for the ride.  Sports, activities, doctor appointments...you name it.

Abby had soccer practice this past Monday evening.  Because of issues with when the field was available this week, she practiced with extra girls, meaning there were lots of parents around that I had never met.

This is important to know before I continue.

So, Abby was practicing with her team in the ridiculously cold weather (someone please shoot that blessed groundhog), while I chased the boys.  Correction-I chased Noah while Caleb was actually being pretty good.

I chased Noah around the track, I chased him away from the parking lot, I chased him up the bleachers...I was pretty tired.  Amazingly, he was not.

It only took a second.

He went under the bleachers, which he has done before, but then he usually sees a dead end and comes back.  I noticed that he did not come back right away this time, and when I bent over to look for him, I could not see that little blond head anywhere.

You parents all know the strike of panic that hits you in the gut and sends all sort of irrational fears to your mind?  Yeah, I know you know it.

I quickly followed the bleachers to the end, while telling Caleb to not go under the bleachers, but to stand still.  I found precious Noah, on the other side of the bleachers, through a fence that was open, standing in the middle of a huge puddle.

Puddle is too kind of a word.  More like a pond.

As that child of mine waded back to me (remember-ridiculously cold weather), I grabbed him and got back to the front of the bleachers.  That is when I looked over and saw Caleb in tears.

This is where I got frustrated, because he was standing near a pile of adults, crying and holding a hand to his nose, and not one of them looked his way.  No one.

Apparently, he did not hear me say to NOT go under the bleachers, so he went, trying to help find Noah.  Somehow (because he is a boy) he managed to hit his nose on the bleachers when standing back up.

He is quite talented that way.

So, I took him over to the sidelines to grab Abby's water bottle, which contained ice (sure, ice water for a ridiculously cold day-why not?) and while I attempted to stop the swelling, I realized that Noah had not followed us.

Seriously? 

I left Caleb on the sidelines, holding a water bottle to his head, and went in search of that crazy son of mine.  After a few minutes of not finding him, the real panic began to set in.  Did a stranger take him?  Did he go out to the parking lot?  Did he fall down somewhere?

I asked a dad who was standing nearby if he saw a little two-year old go by and he just looked at me with perhaps a bit of sympathy, but mostly confusion.  I know parents heard me ask that question, yet no one stopped their conversations to help a scared mom find her little boy.

Finally, one mom (who I already met the previous week and she is awesome) came by and started looking.  We then heard the footsteps above us and I found Noah walking along the top bleachers.  I had even looked there a second before, but he must have been laying down on them.

After retrieving the little monkey and checking on the bruised guy on the sidelines, Abby suddenly came up to me, in tears, because her heel hurt.

Again, seriously?

Thankfully, Nick arrived then and stayed at practice so that I could take the monsters home.  But, not without a few looks my way from the strangers as I drug my crying six-year old away as he was whining for his dad and holding his bruised nose and while I had a crying, wet two-year old in my arms, who just wanted to run straight into the busy parking lot.

Go ahead and judge, perfect parents.  Or, is it more like go ahead and ignore?  Perhaps they have served their time and do not feel the need to help out a mom that is clearly in need of aid.

As a mom who is writing this at 1:00 a.m. because she is waiting for the second load of puked on clothes to get done in the dryer because of a sick kid, go easy on those moms that you see in public.  The ones who are raising their voices and have bags under their eyes.  You have no idea the kind of day they just had and chances are, many days repeat the same.

Oh good, the dyer is dinging at me.  Now I can go to bed and start it all over again in a few hours.

The Ego

Remember the days when I posted something every few days instead of every few weeks?

Something tells me that the older my kids get, the more I will find myself running around for them instead of writing about how I am running around for them.

Abby started select soccer this week.  Yep, we gave in and said good-bye to any extra (does that exist?) money that we had and gave it to a club with a trainer.  Should be fun.

I am curious to how my little perfectionist daughter is going to do with it.  She has been used to being a leader on her team and feeling pretty good about herself.  Now that she will be competing with girls just like her, I am praying that she learns and does not let her ego get in the way.

I say this because I have seen it happening in her math class this year.  Abby is in an accelerated math class and has not been enjoying it.  I could say, "That's my girl," since I have never been a math genius, but she grew to love it in first grade.  Her reason for not liking it could be one of many-not liking the way it is taught, thinking it is too difficult, not wanting to miss out on what is going on her in regular class...but, after hearing her talk about it enough, I think it really does come down to ego.

The reason that I think it is ego?  She came home last week and talked about how great math was that day.  When I asked why, she went on and on about how well she did at something, how her teacher complimented her and how all of the students wanted to know how she did what she did.

Yep, ego.

So, soccer should be fun.  As much as I want my daughter to take off and soar in everything that she does, I still want her to not always be the best or the smartest.  I want her to realize that there is more to life than being the leader.  I want her to just enjoy what she is doing because she loves it, not because it is all about her.

This parenting thing can be quite tricky.

Mom's Cannot Be Sick

Oh.  My.  Word.

Mothers should NOT be allowed to get sick.  Ever.

My flu test was negative (whatever-I think it was wrong), but whatever I had kept me down for days.

Do you know what a house looks like when mom is sick for days?

It is not pretty.

I kept wanting to write while I was sick, but I did not even have the energy to open my laptop and form a thought.  My days were a blur of sleeping and taking medicine.  At one point, I really felt like death was knocking on my door.

Thankfully, I have an amazing husband who took care of things over the weekend so that I could sleep.  It is a good thing that I slept a lot, because come Sunday night, I was at the ER all night with Noah.

Yes, still sick and spending hours at the ER with the two-year old.  It was fun.

Noah caught whatever I had, but his airway was too small to handle it, causing a croup attack.  Normally, croup hits the other kids (always in the middle of the night) and a quick trip out into the cold air or some time in the steamy bathroom does the trick.

Not with Noah.  No, he had to be special and just keep coughing and gagging and throwing up.  So, after watching the ridiculously late Oscars, and hearing him have another attack, I took him to the ER.  Nick would have gone, but I figured since I was coughing so much, I would not be getting a good night of sleep anyway so I might as well go.

Thankfully the breathing treatments and steroid shot did the trick and he was safe for awhile.  Still had to go to the doctor a couple of days later to get more breathing treatments and a steroid prescription to really heal him.

Anyway, over a week later and I am FINALLY feeling a little normal.  I am catching up on emails that I should have responded to forever ago, I am paying bills that were forgotten (hello second soccer payment for Abby-whoops), I am communicating with the outside world again-it feels good.

And now I have to tackle this house.  It has never needed a deep clean as much as it does right now.  Thankfully, I have Noah to help me.

Oh, wait...yep, he does the opposite.  Never mind.

David

My cousin, David, would have been 36 today.  I wish his boys were not growing up without their dad, that his brother was not without him, that his mom did not lose her child...yet, I take comfort in knowing where he is.  Someday we will see him again.

Me and David a LONG time ago

Facebook Comfort

I believe that facebook has changed the moods of stay at home moms nationwide.

When my children are behaving badly or when I have (again) failed as a parent, I find myself turning to facebook.  From the moment that I click on the status button and express my feelings, I take comfort in seeing how many likes or comments I will receive from the other moms who are going through the same thing.

It makes me feel less alone.

This week was a great example.  Noah had an explosion two nights ago.  You all know what I mean.  The kind where the diaper fails to hold it all in, it ends up on the pajamas, the sheets, the stuffed animals, the pillow, the actual crib...just so awesome.

As I placed the little culprit in the tub and stripped him down in order to spray off the chunks (I told you-so awesome), I thought about how comforting this would be to write about on facebook later.  Instead of feeling alone (Nick was working late...because that is when these things happen...when Nick is working late), I knew other moms would feel my pain in facebook land.

Same thing happened last night.  I was getting ready to check on Abby before going to bed when I heard her crying in her room.  I walked in and saw vomit-everywhere.  On the bed, the side of the bed, the floor, on her American Girl doll, on a handmade scarf, on another doll, on some toys...shall I go on?

As I carried each item to the tub to rinse off, I thought, "I am not alone-other moms have to do this-I will share my misery with them in the morning in facebook land."  While my husband comforted our little girl (funny how that was his job and mine was to take chunks of puke off of stuff), I had to find the humor in it and keep on going. 

Not only did I find camaraderie in other moms in the same boat, but I also found helpful hints on how to get the stink out and how to clean certain items.

What did moms do before facebook?  Seriously?  I would have been so lonely.

In fact, I was.  I went through the sleepless, newborn nights with Abby long before I heard of this online social networking place.  And I felt alone.  Yes, I had some mom friends at our former church, but I often felt left out and on my own.  We lived in an apartment and I was lacking the kind neighbors that I am now blessed with.  I was very tired, very discouraged, and had no idea what I was doing.

I am not saying that facebook saves the day in all cases.  But, I am saying it is a comfort to know that other people are going through the same struggles and joys on a daily basis, no matter how far away they are.

To my friends on facebook that are not in the same stage of life as me, my apologies-you probably do not want to hear about poopy diapers, vomit, and day to day frustrations from mommyland.  But, please keep in mind that other moms do want to hear about it-it makes them feel less alone, too.

Say what you will about facebook ruining the way that we communicate.  For this mom who can never finish a conversation on the phone while children are nearby, it has been a blessing.

What Did You Say?

Anyone who has toddlers knows this popular game...

It is called, "What did you say?"

The rules are:  The toddler says something, the parent tries to figure out what he or she is saying, the parent guesses, and the toddler either nods in agreement or screams with frustration.  The volume of the scream determines exactly how quickly the parent hurries to win the game.

We currently play this game a lot in our house.

The other day at breakfast, Noah kept asking for "nix."  I could not for the life of me figure out what "nix" was so I kind of ignored him while I packed the older two kid's backpacks for school.  After his screams of "nix" got louder, Abby guessed, "mix?" to which Noah nodded.  Okay, so that was no help.  What did he want me to mix?  After more screams and frustration, I finally guessed, "Kix?" to which he excitedly nodded and smiled.

The kid just wanted a second helping of Kix. 

This morning, while Caleb was playing Wii, Noah kept yelling "My nuts!  My nuts!"

Um, what?

I thought perhaps he was asking for the nunchucks (we humor him by letting him think he is playing with the nunchucks that are not on).  Caleb handed him one and he threw it down, yelling, "My nuts!  My nuts!"

Tell us how you really feel, Noah.

Finally, Caleb realized that Noah was asking for a stuffed monkey.  He gave it to him and made his little brother very happy.  Apparently, the name of the monkey is Coconut and that is what Noah was trying to say.  Not monkey, but Coconut.

Sure.

What made it even more awesome was when he hugged and monkey and said, "My nuts!  My nuts!" with a big smile on his face.

You cannot make this stuff up.

Someday, Noah will be able to communicate with clear and precise words, but for now, the game continues.