Nothing happened

I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop today. I was even a bit afraid to get us all in the car tonight because our day has gone so smoothly.

Nothing happened today. Nothing. The remainder of this will be a dry, boring, peaceful account of our lovely, dull day. You have been warned.

Your dad and I were up early, our resolution from the New Year still holding to go to bed early and try and get enough sleep. He needed to finish a few things for work that were on his mind and I wanted to spend some time getting our family back on track after my week of ick. Did my weekly check of the pantry, the empty freezer, the fridge and started planning our menus for the next few weeks and a few things to restock the freezer. Consulted the cookbooks, the sales and the coupons and got to spend some uninterrupted time making a master list.

You guys lingered in bed until well after 6:15 and we all snuggled for a while before you all requested your morning vitamins and started asking about pancakes. You and your dad made pancakes together and I headed up for a shower so that I wouldn't scare anyone when I hit the grocery store (unaccompanied!!!) later on.

I told you nothing happened.

After pancakes, you guys went with your dad to "help" him trim bushes in the gorgeous sunshine and I skipped off to the store and then sold your father's red truck on the way home to the man who did the inspection. You and your dad finished up your yard work while I made up the four pans of meatloaf, the brown-bag burritos and the four pans of lasagna to go in the freezer (happiness is knowing you can pull something out of the freezer and keep playing checkers).

The afternoon was filled with self made Nutella sandwiches on pancakes, melon, melon and more melon, another jaunt outside into the sunshine and naps. For dinner out with the family, we headed off to Costco where your dad purchased his current obsession, his ipod touch. And then we came home and everyone jumped into the bath except for Eleanor who went to bed in a fleecy, her t-shirt and socks because she fell asleep in the car and everyone knows you do not wake a sleeping Eleanor.

A quiet day. A slow, uneventful day. It was WONDERFUL.

You were warned.

Shut- ins

Yesterday Grace came running up the stairs to tell me that Eleanor had locked herself in the basement bathroom. The lock is not the standard turn-the-knob-unlock-the-door ones like the rest of the house, this one you actually have to turn the lock inside to get out and Eleanor was temporarily trapped. In only took a few seconds for me to find a quarter (to turn the lock like most bathroom stalls) so no one was panicking. But when I came down stairs Grace was standing with her hand on the bathroom door saying, "It's okay. It's okay. I'm here for you, Eleanor."

I'm totally taking credit for that.

Career Path

My twenty year old self and my 38 year old self were having a conversation today. My twenty year old self was standing there shaking her head like we were pathetic, looking all-knowing and skinny in her size 6 jeans and bad shoes. We spent the day trying to come back from almost a week of my feeling awful and lying on the couch- I was sick and woozy and spent my last five days holding court with a flurry of Kleenex.

Today was all about smells. Getting rid of the sick smells, the trash smells, the dirty smells, the musty odor, the dog smells and the I'm-not-sure-where-that-smell-is-coming-from smells. So I cleaned. I changed beds, I scoured bathrooms, I cleaned out toy boxes, I tossed closets. And I was so joyful to get these things accomplished that my twenty year old self was wondering why we went to college at all.

I think about where my life is going and I know this NOTHING like what I imagined. It's better.

I wanted a job I would love, a job where I was rewarded and compensated accordingly. I wanted to do something meaningful, to travel and the chance for advancement. I wanted to one day retire and live happily ever after.

I got all of that and more. Let's face it- I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. The Financial Counseling is going to be there waiting in the wings and I think it will be a very good fit for me. But for right now, we're thinking about Oman, overseas, the house and a few other things that are going to take us on another path for a few years. I may grouse about the chores and the daily tasks, but I smile over a hundred times a day. Real, genuine, oh-my-goodness-my-heart-is-gushing smiles. I would choose you and your dad again and again.

In the meantime, I've got a few words for the skinny, know it all cow in the jeans. It's just going to take me a few days to get them all together.

You are going to be THAT mom

Make lists. Make them now. All the things that you swear you will never, ever do when you have children. All the things that YOUR children will never ever do because you will raise them with patience, love and dignity.

The piece of advice that stands out in my mind is when Nike Rovero told me to never say never about my kids. Because as sure as I'm breathing, your kid will turn around and do whatever obnoxious thing you just told a crowd of people your kid would never, ever do.

• I will never spank my kids. Talk to me after you have pulled the baby away from the shiny, pretty oven for the fourth time and she is not listening. Talk to me when your older child kicks the younger one in the back, on the stairs. If there was danger involved, you got a sharp reminder. Call me, we'll talk.
• I will never yell at my kids. You're my kid. There will be yelling. No not intentional, hurtful, mean screaming, but yes you have vocal skills and will use them if motivated. Again, you're my kid, so your kid will be my blood.... there will be trouble and you will be motivated.
• I will not use the television as a babysitter. Your dad was in Iraq for almost a year. The only way I had a shower, folded laundry, put away laundry or handled raw meat was with the grace of God and PBS kids. I'm not proud, but it got the job done and I was able to get a few seconds break. Notice that I said "had a shower." Not had a shower, washed, dried my hair and was able to shave my legs. Darn shows are only twenty minutes long.
• Followed by, I will spend my time with my kids in a productive, playful environment that will encourage and motivate them. Sure, we play alphabet games, matching and counting games every once in a while. But the majority of the time you guys are "the great pirate (fill in the name here) or super hero (fill in the name here) and running amuck. If you're sitting down, I'm not above bribing a snuggle out of you with a television show.
• I will never let my marriage get to the point of having to schedule "date night" because my significant other and I will keep the romance alive. Talk to me after you have baby number two. A bit less sleep, a bit more work for both of you. I always thought date nights were a joke until I looked at the calendar and realized your father and I had not been outside the house alone in over four months. Here's a tip- hire the babysitter early so that you get the time to wash, dry hair AND shave your legs.
• I will never my kids on a captive group of people and just let them scream. Hello? You were born in Bethesda, Maryland and we lived in Israel. Grace had more stamps in her passport before she was one than I had when I was 34. I view small people on a plane as terrorists. Keep them happy and fed, meet their demands and hopefully everyone gets out unharmed. I have enjoyed our travels over the years, but even the thought of getting you guys on a plane right now gives me hives.
• I will expose my children to art, culture and travel. I love you guys. I do. But there is no way in hell I'm taking you anywhere to a museum without animals or dinosaurs until you are ten. Then maybe you'll appreciate it. And even then we're going to do it the way my parents did it. We go in, see everything in ONE exhibit and then leave. Okay, snacks and then we leave. As for travel, if we can go in the car, we'll go. Otherwise, I'll wait.
• My kids are not going to throw tantrums in the store. Yeah, right. The last time you did that, I sat down and asked you to let me know when you were done. I wanted to pull a Jeff Foxworthy, ask you "Where is your mother?" while shaking my head. The other mommies were not approving of this tactic and the store manager wanted me OUT.
• My children will use their manners and not hit, bit or scratch. You three have manners. Beautiful manners. But when you are tired, stressed, hungry or ill I keep expecting your head to spin around and blow chunks like in Psycho.
• My daughter will not be a prissy girly-girl, super tom boy or a problem child. You three have such different personalities that you are going to surprise me with the different facets for an eternity. I'm looking forward to it. But can we skip a Goth phase?
• My children will respect me. Okay, let's get back to the spitting issue Eleanor seems to have recently.
• My children will not have to wear hand me downs or clothes that are cheap and not in fashion. I have to say that I'm going to try very hard on this one. I'm going to make sure that you have a say in your clothing (which means you will be responsible for your own laundry- but that's another day) be as fashionable as possible while still being age appropriate and are comfortable. But you need to understand that you WILL be wearing hand me downs and probably things from the local thrift store. If you don't like it, so be it. But I'm not paying fifty dollars for a pair of jeans that you will outgrow in a year.

Oh my God. I sound like my mother.

Sad news

I got a call from a friend yesterday who wanted to talk. At first I thought it was a call to check in, see how everything was going and maybe touch base on a few recent events.

Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. Your Granne and Grandbob were here, so luckily I was able to actually give this person with my whole attention. And I'm in shock. Our friends are a couple we've known for a while. Someone that I thought we knew. We've spent time in their home and they've spent time here; there has been no outward signs of hostility or discord except for the expected stresses of new family member, new house, etc.

My friend feels as though their efforts are not appreciated. As though what they do in the home, for the family and the recent attempts at job hunting are not valued. Without the outside validation, there is not a lot of respect being given. And then they followed up by telling me about how they do not feel as though their spouse loves them as they should be loved.

I had no clue what to say. So in an atypical fashion, I shut up and listened. And listened some more. And tried to repeat back the parts I didn't understand or felt needed clarifying. The biggest part of this was the part about intimacy. Even now, a day later, I still don't grasp a clear understanding of what was being asked for.

When I talked to your dad last night, I asked him to pray for this other couple. I had thought that this was a new thing to their relationship, a new hurdle to cross. Unfortunately, it seems our friends have been dealing with issues in communication, appreciation, priorities and intimacy for a while. They have been on this road for years and my friend is contemplating their marriage and weighing their happiness and future happiness. They are not taking this lightly.

They feel as though they are not the go-to person for their spouse. As though they are not being given the time, attention, respect and intimacy (there's that word again) that they need. This person's pain was palpable through the phone.

When I think of intimacy, I think of how vulnerable I am to someone else. I have an intimacy with my parents. A comfort, an understanding and a relationship that is close. I am intimate with Michelle in that we talk every day, she knows all the stuff going on in our life, she knows a majority of my flaws and she still loves me. I am intimate with Cousin Laura in that she is family, I love her quirks and her craziness and could tell her almost anything and we don't need to talk every day, week or even month. Same with Sandi.

But your dad. Your dad knows me. He knows my personality, my character, almost everything about me and he loves me anyway. He is a comfort, he is the even keel, and together we make the center of this family. When I think of intimacy with him, I don't think of sex. When I think of intimate moments, I think of driving home with him in the car after leaving Jordan at the hospital and crying my eyes out down I-95 because we were not supposed to have left that place without her. I think of the times after you guys go to bed when we snuggle up and talk. I think of holding his hand and that look he gives me over your heads when he's holding you in his arms. Sex does bring a certain closeness, but not always as intimate as a great soft kiss in the middle of the living room.

So here's the one piece of advice I gave my friend. When you find someone in your life that you like as a person, who you respect and trust, if you also have passion with this person- this is priceless. It's rare. It is not something to be treated lightly.

They agreed. But I'm not in their shoes. I don't have to wake up in the morning and look at my beloved and think that they don't see me as their end-all-be-all. Pretty sure my heart would break a bit as well. So for now I will shut up and listen. And pray. And pray some more.

Your mom is weird

We went back to school yesterday after almost two weeks of being at home together. And while I'm sure that while you won't be surprised to say I grabbed two other mommies and did a hugging, jumping happy dance in the middle of the hallway after I dropped you off, you might be surprised to hear how much I missed you guys during those two hours.

I will admit that things are usually much easier if I can run and do errands on my own. If there is a time constraint, just the thought of getting all of you dressed in coats, HSM and getting you out the door and into the car, into your car seats without incident usually wastes three minutes while I try to come out of that mental tailspin. But for the last two weeks I didn't have that option and I am happy to say how pleasantly surprised I was by how well behaved you have been.

We work on your manners at home. We work on please and thank you, we work on "Come here, please" so that I don't have to be that mom who yells and chases her kids, we work on sitting at the table while eating (still working on that one), on using napkins and cleaning up after ourselves. But last week I was the beneficiary of all our hard work when I took you three to Costco and was able to sit down and ENJOY that lunch with you. You smiled, you waited, you shared your drink, you cleaned up your messes with your napkins and you cleared your spaces and threw away your own garbage. I was so tickled that we even went back and split an ice cream.

Call me crazy, and I know you think it's such a silly thing, but I'm starting to enjoy taking you out. When your Dad was gone, it was a chore. Baby in a car seat (30 pounds there), a toddler who would run into traffic or away at any opportunity and a two, then three year old who was remarkable for her age but still a hassle. There was NO point of it where I was able to relax and watch you eat your lunch.

But now, now I think we might be willing to work something out....

Have I mentioned how proud I am of you?

Indoor Camping

We've got a full sized four person tent in our living room because the kids were driving me insane (did I mention that we had SEVEN of them here for a while?) and I made that the "reading tent".

Me: "ITS QUIET TIME. NOW. Go grab a few books, settle in and we're ALL GOING TO BE QUIET AND STOP RUNNING AROUND for at least twenty minutes. THAT IS A FULL TWENTY MINUTES. For those of you who can't tell time, that means when the buzzer goes off on the stove. A full twenty..."

Small child: Does the buzzer mean cookies are ready?

Me: No. I will be sitting and resting too. With a book. QUIETLY.

Small crying child: But...but does that mean we don't get cookies?

Me: Oh for Pete's sake

OTHER small child: Is Pete having cookies?

I love my kids.