Mom to the Screaming Masses

I could learn a lesson from her

Tonight we had soccer tryouts for the Advanced and Select teams.  My daughter Mackenzie was set to try out.  She's played Rec league for four years and loves it, but it's time for her to move up.  On the way , I tried to feel her out.  "Are you nervous?"  I asked.  "No," she replied nonchalantly, looking out the window.  "Why?"

Hmm, good question.  I wasn't sure exactly WHY she wasn't nervous, and if she wasn't, I wasn't going to press the point.  This tryout was huge for her.  Moving up a level is big, and I'd already been warned that two coaches had looked at her during games and were pleased.  Her big sister plays for this level and I knew the committment, the time and effort, and the payoff.

We arrived at the field and she jumped out of the car.  Walking towards the registration table, I reached for her hand, thinking maybe she'd want to hold mine.  Maybe for comfort or something - there were about 300 people present.  "Wanna hold my hand?"  I questioned oh-so-casually.  Maybe she was nervous and didn't want to let on.  She smiled at me and said, "I don't need to hold your hand, but if you want me to, I will."  Oh, man, the knife in my heart.

A few pictures that I like

Goofing around with the camera and Riley

My son, on his 15th birthday, with the second place trophy he won in a car show. 

Mackenzie on the carousel

Allegra helping Gabe smile for the camera

My Mother's Day gift.

Mission Monday: shake it up

I don't know about you, but I tend to make the same recipes over and over and over. Sure, I have great intentions - I pull recipes out of magazines and stack them up, but I rarely get around to making them.  I look at the stack for a while, get annoyed wtih the mess and toss them.  I dog ear cookbook pages, print recipes off the internet, and bookmark sites to "come back to".  Despite all of my optimism, we eat the same meals pretty frequently.

Your Mission for today - cue the music, duh, duh, dududuh...

Pick a recipe that you've enjoyed looking at, thinking about making, and procrastinating on actually doing - and actually DO it.  Make it and let us all know what it is, and if you liked it, and if it'll be a part of your rotation. 

Check out Mission Monday over at The Elff Diet today as well!

Happy Mother's Day!

Mom

Funny, kind

Kissing, hugging, helping

Cleaning the dishes

by Gabriel, Age 7

What makes me a mother?

With thanks to CityMama and Kristen over at Motherhood Uncensored for the thought....

What makes me a mother might very well be the following things I have said today:

If you don't have pants on, get off the sofa

We don't play water guns in the house

Quit fighting.  Quit fighting. QUIT FIGHTING.

I swear, I'm tired of hearing you fight!

Go to your room.

I will read to you in a minute - just let me finish this.

Hey, stop drinking water out of the water gun!

STOP bothering your sister!

I am not your servant, so clean up your own dishes.

If you don't like dinner, you are free to make a sandwich.

Whose turn is it for dishes? 

I don't care how you ask, you aren't going to watch Nickelodeon.  No SpongeBob. 

When people are sleeping, you have to respect them and be quiet.  And don't turn the lights on either.

Clean your room.  Clean your room.  CLEAN your room NOW.

Talk to me without the whine in your voice.

Who wants to play playdoh?

How about a bike ride?

Did you take your medicine?  Your vitamins? 

WHY are your shoes all over the house? 

If you want to watch me cook, sit on a barstool, don't bring it over next to the stove. 

Stop talking to me all at once.  I can't hear 412 conversations at the same time.

We don't hit people. 

Keep your tongue in your mouth.

Do you need to be brushed (therapy brushing)?

Watch your tone.  Do you talk to Sister xxx (the principal) like that?  Then don't talk to me that way.

Brush your hair in the bathroom, not the kitchen

No, you may not eat ice cream for breakfast - Daddy gives you that, and I'm not him.

What about you?  What do you say that makes you a mom?

(My apologies if you are not a mom.  Please come back tomorrow and see the great poem that my son wrote about me.)

Oh, look! A shiny thing!

My mother loves to tell this story of me as a child.  When she was driving me to ballet one day, she decided to just let me talk and see how many times I changed the topic.  Apparently I discussed about 27 different things.  All very exuberently and with much volume.

My daughter is exactly this way.  Witness this talk on the way to school at the bright and early hour of 7:15....

"Mommy?  Guess what?  We've been doing Math Minutes, and I'm so good at Math Minutes.  Wanna know how I'm doing?  Do you?  Do you?"

"Yes.  Tell me." I haven't had any coffee yet and this child makes hyperactive look calm.  She's got soooo much energy.  I.just.don't.

Running isn't the only way scissors can hurt you

I was busy with the tie dye, and Emma asked if she could watch.  "Sure," I said.  "Just sit over there." I pointed to the counter on the other side of me.  She climbed up on the barstool and asked if she could do some "homework".  "What kind of homework?"  I asked.  "Cutting practice," she replied.  I handed the the smallest scissors we had, which happened to be kids scissors with pointed edges.  She grabbed her crayons and a piece of paper and set to work.  She was content and more importantly, quiet.

Until about two minutes later, when the air was ripped by shrieks.  Over and over and over she wailed.  "I'm bleeding!  I'm bleeding!"  she screamed.  Emma is not known for her tolerance for pain - in fact, she spends her days inspecting her legs and arms for bruises, scrapes and cuts, and demanding band -aids.  She can go through a box in a day.  Knowing this, I wasn't too alarmed and didn't rush over to her side.  She contined to scream as I wiped my hands and made my way to her.  Hmm.  there was more blood than I anticipated.  "Emma, what did you do?  What happened?"

Between sobs, she managed to tell me that she'd cut her fingertip with the scissors. Oh, gag.

I managed to butterfly it and passed her off to her older sister, who compressed it and elevated it, and applied an ice pack - our fail safe go-to when we have an injury.  It bled for quite a while.  Once it finally stopped, I inspected it and decided that maybe she didn't need stitches.  I re butterflied it and let her go play.

Nik did this when he was Emma's age, my step daughter did it and actually cut the TIP off.  I'm thinking that I need to take a refresher course in scissor safety.

_______________________

Nevergonnaknow, thank you for your comment.  It has been received and I promise to think about what you've said.  I did reply to you in the comment section, since the email you left me was invalid. 

Also, I have one dress left from the arts festival - it's a size 2.  It is 18 inches shoulder to hem.  Leave a comment if you are interested.  Thanks for the compliments - I am thinking about an etsy shop.

My article in yesterday's paper

So, by popular demand, here is the article that was published about me.  I've been amazed at how many people have told me that they loved it, and plan to follow both blogs.

Click to enlarge, if you feel like reading it.

I'm in the Arts Festival at school tomorrow, so my fingers are all shades of black, brown, yellow and read, and my arm has a huge swipe of green.  I also have blue on my toes, making for a nice pedicure.  I am not a neat tie dyer by any stretch of the imagination.

I also made 6 of the Watermelon Dresses, and plan to sell them for $30.  Emma and Riley cut into my profits seriously, though, by laying claim to two of them.

Mission Monday: the gift version

In six days will be one of the greatest Hallmark celebrations ever devised.  Mother's Day.  While not everyone reading IS a mother, all of us HAVE mothers. Or grandmothers.  Or step mothers.  Or wives.  Some of you readers have wives.  Your wife may not be your mother, but I'm betting she's the mother of your children and they need help doing the right thing.

I know one two three women having babies this summer.  I am UBER excited for them, mostly because I'm not the one actually having the baby. 

I'm also invited to a birthday party for someone who will be 86, and I'm invited to a wedding. 

Cue the Mission Impossible music - duh, duh, duhduhduh....

Your Mission for today is to list gifts.  How much fun is that?  What was/would be your most favorite gift to receive?  For your wedding?  Your new baby?  Your Mother's Day?  What would make you pee your pants excited to receive?

What gift do you think is the best to GIVE?  Especially to an older person, what do you feel would be just a slam dunk of a gift?

Conversely, what was the dumbest gift you've ever seen given?  Lay it on me, was it the quesidilla maker that Aunt Tilly bought you for graduation?

Help me plan my gift giving - give me some ideas so I can really hit it out of the ballpark.

Don't forget to plan something for your own mother while you are thinking.  She's worth it.

__________________

Welcome to my new readers who came from my hometown newspaper today!  Let me know you found me!

Operation DeStress - day 1

Wheeeeee.

So, today, I took the kids to school and went to the grocery store.  No different from a regular day.  My kids even had a half day, so I was not thinking it'd be all that relaxing.

And. Yet.

I came home and sat at the computer, determined to get something accomplished.  I have things to do with regards to my other blog, I needed to find a doctor for my stupid physical, I had calls to make and a checkbook to balance.  Nothing was working out - I missed a withdrawal in the account, the doctors that accepted my insurance weren't accepting patients (huh???), and my requests for product reviews were getting nowhere.  Despairingly, I told The Hubster that if I died from a heart attack as a result of this stupid pounding, he should sue the entire medical community, who couldn't see me.  I even answered the phone as Grumpy McGrumpypants.  Meanwhile, The Hubster was plugging along; he made his own veggie juice, which is a job I DETEST, he unloaded the dishwasher and cleaned the breakfast dishes.  He cleaned the juicer, played with the little girls and invited me to do ab work.  Exercise half accomplished.

And then, I picked up the other kids, without anyone else in the car, which NEVER happens.  I had an opportunity for a nice long phone call with Jenny.  We returned home to pizza that had been ordered, and after lunch, he took them all out for THREE hours to a warehouse playplace, full of inflatables.  He ran them like crazy.  Then he did the dance class drop off AND pick up, leaving me to get some work done.  Work like folding a hundred million loads of laundry while watching Everybody Loves Raymond.  Seriously, the funniest show EVAH.

One call to my kids pediatrician for a recommendation - yeah, I was that desperate - netted me a doctor, who miraculously a) takes my insurance b) accepts new patients and c) will see me on the 21st. When I realized that I'd actually gotten an appointment, I almost started to cry - I was that excited. My girlfriend dropped by with a gift certificate for a massage for me, to thank me for watching her son, a job that I was totally glad to do as he was awesome.  A massage!  Whoot!

Tonight The Hubster is staying with the girls, while I go to the scout meeting, which means it'll be quiet when I get home. Which means I can make this drink.  After I work out.  Must.complete.the.working.out.

The laundry is mostly done AND put away. I dusted, one of the kids did some vacuuming, and the house is mostly clean.  Someone pinch me, cuz I'm sure that tomorrow won't go so well. I'm going to an amusement park with a bunch of kids for the concert, and it's forecast to RAIN.

It's been fun today, though!