June Greetings

Yes, it is June 6 and I honestly don't remember the last time I posted.  Life, as usual, has been crazy and we haven't stopped since... well... we haven't stopped.

The kids finished up school two weeks ago and with that I also put a lock down on my advocacy schedule in order to focus on them through the summer.  Mostly.  I'll explain the "mostly" in a bit.

We put up a bathtub pool in the backyard so that the kids could get some swimming time in.  It's a 12 foot temporary thing that takes more time to maintain than we are able to spend enjoying it.  The kids do love it and it's a great way to wear them out late in the afternoon.

Of course, my kids insist on wearing water wings even though it's only 2.5' deep. 

In other news, The Husband has started running and we completed our first 5k together this weekend!  He did awesome and came in two minutes faster than I did.  He has been bitten by the running bug and wants to complete the Peachtree Road Race with me this year.  I'm very proud of him!!!

There's a lot of other fun things going on, but the kids are already demanding lunch so I have to cut this post short.  Before I go, here's the scoop on the "mostly" reference earlier.

I was invited to speak at a national conference in July!!! I will be presenting two sessions on "school issues" at the APFED 9th annual national conference in Greenville, SC.  I am so, so, excited!  APFED stands for the American Partnership for Eosinophilic Disorders. I currently advocate for four kids affected by these related disorders and I feel strongly about helping these families so this is a big deal for me both personally and professionally.  

Last but not least, because of my work, I've had to restrict my blog access to only family members and close friends.  If someone you know would like to be added to my list or has been inadvertently left off, please send me a message and let me know.  

Love, hugs, and blessings,

The Mama

Signs of Life

In January, I officially started my own business as an education advocate and consultant.  In February, I took on several challenging new cases.  In March, I was threatened with a lawsuit for information supposedly located on my business page.  The information wasn't there, and the individuals who threatened me neglected to remember that they  had a firewall in place preventing them from accessing certain sights.  Nevertheless, the entire thing scared me a little bit and I took a self imposed hiatus from blogging.

But I've missed it.  I've missed the oversharing.  I've missed the cathartic effects of throwing the details of my crazy life out there for you to see.  I still facebook, but even that has been limited to only a handful of people who get to see my updates (as if they should be so lucky!).

So here I am.  And if you get this, you also are one of the few who is on the recipient list for this blog.  If you don't want to be, then let me know and I'll remove you from said list.  My posts won't be regular, but the weather is getting warmer and I'm testing the water of the blog-pond again.

In honor of my reentrance to this side of the world, I have a Mohawk Monster-ism for you today.  We were sitting around the kitchen table eating snacks after school when he said, "Mom, guess what I learned today... Jesus gave bread to Tommy and then he put the Easter eggs away."  Um, okay?

I'll give you $5 if you can figure out where that one came from.

My oldest daughter had a field trip today.  She went to "Goodmills".  No matter how hard I try to convince her that it is "Goodwill" she won't have it.  It's "Goodmills".  Period.  I guess that's kind of like Breaksmast.  Geez.  Mom's just don't know anything.

And not to leave anyone out, my youngest had an incredible time on the beach last week when we were out with friends for Spring Break.  Her favorite part was eating sand.  And just in case you were wondering, she looks even less like me than she did before with her beautiful caramel hair and amazing tan.  I wish genetics were more two-way... like maybe I could have gotten her good coloring by reverse osmosis in exchange for three months of puking my brains out.

A girl can always dream, right?

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama

Another Mohawk Monster Moment

We've been having a hard time with the middle child.  And by hard, I mean want-to-pull-my-hair-out-not-enough-therapy-or-wine-in-the-world-to-help-mom-cope-omg-can-I-get-a-replacement-or-refund time.

In three weeks, we had four incidents which necessitated a call, talking-to, or email with his teacher or the director of the preschool.  Thankfully, I love them both and appreciate the attention... though I'm not sure the feeling is mutual.

Last week, we were supposed to have an "all school Mass" on Wednesday.  Basically, this means that the parents accompany our lovely littles to daily 9:00 Mass and the old people all wonder why they didn't get the memo and go to church at 6:45 instead.  It's like one giant cry room on so many levels.

So our schedules were all set.  I was going to go to church with the kiddos.

Until, in typical Murphy fashion, the "all school Mass" was rescheduled for THIS Wednesday.  This Wednesday, the one when The Husband is traveling, I have two un-movable IEP meetings, and my parents are scheduled to be in Chicago.  Yeah.  That's the one.

So, head down and tail between my legs, I asked the preschool director for help.

I booked it into church with the older two kiddos in tow, and was met by a crew of prepared teachers waiting to help tame the Monster through Mass.  He was welcomed with open arms.  I felt oh-so-deserving of that elusive MOTY award (grab your tissue, the sarcasm is-a-dripping) as I shuffled them off onto someone else while all of the other moms proudly walked hand-in-hand into the sanctuary with their littles.  I struggled to not topple in my patent leather heels walking empty-handed back to the car (which was, incidentally, illegally parked in a disability space so I could afford myself a quick escape... Note to self: this only draws more attention - very, very bad idea).  

My personal guilt aside, MM doesn't deal well with change and we have a lot going on right now.  I've started my own business, The Husband is starting his travel season, and he has a lot of transition in his class.

In spite of it all, Mohawk Monster has always been pretty good about behaving for other people.  And I thought that things had all-in-all gone smoothly yesterday.

And then, the bomb dropped.

At dinner tonight, Mini-Me shared that her brother had screamed "Sissy!" across the church.  During a Priest-Only prayer.

Oh. My. Gawd.

Please tell me you are kidding.


No.  She was telling the truth.  She elaborated that Miss C started talking to him and she had looked away.  He snickered as she told the story - like a proud teen who had stolen the opposing team's mascot head.

I am in SO much trouble.

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama

A Self-Imposed Time-Out

Facebook.  It's the ultimate time sucker.

Last Lent, I gave up Facebook for 40 days and it was amazing how much time I got back.  When I returned, I whittled down my friend list and vowed to never let it consume me again.

Lies.

With my advocacy work cranking up to unprecedented levels, I have no choice but to once again attempt to kick the FB habit by bowing out for at least the duration of the month.  In the next three weeks alone, I have approximately 6 IEP meetings, a court date, and an enormous amount of paperwork to wade through.

As tempting as it is to log on and vent my frustrations over the internet to my friend list, I need to turn the negative spouting about shoddy record keeping and frustrating meetings into positive energy that empowers me to be the voice of change that I have been called to become.

Someday I'll be back.  But for now, I'm leaving the dark side for less time-sucking pastures.  Or something like that.

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama

In the Mind of My Babe

Lil Bit has one heck of a vocabulary for a 2 year old.  She speaks in complete, lengthy, and highly expressive sentences.  She was a late walker which has been attributed to the fact that she was an early talker.  She loves to read books and identify things she sees.

I'm not sure where she got the genius gene from, but she definitely has it!

Tonight we were doing some picture identification.  I though I would share a few of my favorites with you.  Seeing the world through her eyes puts an enormous smile on my face, and I hope it will for you too!

"Dinosaur"

(It's really an alligator)

"Nutcracker"

(King)

"Happy Birthday to Sissy"

(Birthday Cake - we celebrated her sister's birthday most recently so that's what she remembers!)

"Santa Clause is coming to town"

(It's an elf - get it?!)

And my personal favorite

"Ball for mommy to play" accompanied by hands moving in a knitting motion.

Sometimes I'm shocked by my own kid.  She kinda rocks.

Love, hugs, and blessings,

The Mama

Snow Day

The "Blizzard of 2011" has hit the south.  Snow followed by sleet combined with unskilled and inexperienced drivers means everything is closed and everyone is homebound.  

I feel like we JUST got back into our routine after the holiday break and now we're huddled around the fireplace again.  

Don't get me wrong... I love seeing the kids faces peeking out from under their hats and coats and there's nothing like the joy in their eyes.  We woke up the older two to play in the snow at 10:30 last night JUST so they could enjoy the freshness and fun of it all.  Today we've been bundled in the living room in front of the tv, fire roaring in the fireplace.  The new sleeping bags from Santa are being put to use and unicorns, dogs, bears, and ladybugs are littering the floor in the form of pillow-pets.  

But it's now 3:30 in the afternoon.  And school was called off for tomorrow.  And cabin fever is settling in.

We've napped.  We've snuggled.  We've played in the snow and warmed up by the fire numerous times. But you can tell... it's about that time...

"Mommy, I'm DOOOO-NNNNNNEEEEEEEE"

"Stop touching my pillow pet!"

"It's MY TAG READER!!!"

"She's looking at me!"

"Don't touch your sleeping bag to me"

"NO!!!!! DISGUSTING!!!!!"

"I poopie."

"I'm hungry.  No, I'm firsty"

"Do we have to watch this?"

"She's MY mommy! No, she's MY MOMMY!!!"

"Leave her alone.  YOU leave HER alone.  Please don't touch your brother.  Stop.  Please don't try to eat the dog's nose.  Use your inside voice.  Can we use church voices please?  Let's not talk until the timer goes off - 5 minutes of quiet."

Aren't snow days fun???  Wish you were here!

Love, hugs, and blessings,

The Mama

Proof of Life

I'm here.  I haven't left the blogsphere... just taken a little hiatus.

Until I'm ready to jump back into the swing of things, here's a little proof of life.

Happy Snow-Day!

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama

What a Week!

Monday started off with everyone home because we were all a little "under the weather".  Nothing big, I thought...

Tuesday, I tried to run into CVS with three kids in tow (no thanks to my dad who thought it was a bad idea to leave them in the car - who knew?!) and the Mohawk Monster proceeded to knock over an entire rack of cars immediately followed by Mini-Me breaking the blood pressure machine.  Oh, the irony of that last act...

Wednesday resulted in $100+ worth of co-pays, three antibiotic prescriptions, four trips to the doctor, and house that should probably be quarantined by the CDC.

Thursday, everyone was home again and we had "family nail painting" with the oh-so-fabulous Jolly Rancher scented fingernail polish Mini-Me received for her birthday.

The Mohawk Monster would not be soothed without inclusion.

We are calling them his green "dinosaur claws".  And yes, it will be removed with acetone before school on Monday, though not because nail polish on boys is an inappropriate thing.  Because, it's not.  It's perfectly normal for a boy who is surrounded by estrogen to want nail polish like his sisters and mother.  No, we will be removing it so he doesn't walk around with his fingers up his nose in an attempt to inhale all of the sweet Sour Apple goodness he can possibly consume like he has been all afternoon.

Don't hate.  Just love.

I can only imagine what tomorrow will have in store for us all!

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama

Life. As Expected.

I've been noticeably absent, which I know comes as a huge surprise.  I'm pretty sure my last post was plenty to tide you over until now.

Here's a rundown of what's been happening:

1.  The Princess turned 5.  Oh. My. God.  How I have survived the last five years is beyond me; it is hard to believe that I am the mother of a five-year-old.  We had a princess party with a real live princess (my bitch of a friend who STILL fits into her pink puffy prom dress - meanwhile I can't get my big toe into my wedding dress from 8 years ago - love you Tracy!).  We have literally stretched the birthday celebration out for a week and a half.  Of course, my favorite Princess-ism has been, "Mommy, being 5 is really hard.  I have to button my own pants now."

2.  Meanwhile, I've been making my advocacy business official.  The Right to Learn Education Advocacy is up and running.  More on this will come in the next few weeks.

3.  I'm also selling Mary Kay.  Sort of... If you want makeup, buy from me.  If not, then that's your loss (and I guess mine too).  Seriously though, I am hoping to make some additional money to support RTL since I am still in the "establishment" phase of my practice.  Please help me out.  Don't make me beg.  That would be awkward for both of us.

4.  Mohawk Monster went on his first train ride today.  I took him and Lil Bit on Marta to the Thanksgiving Half Marathon expo.  Clearly I lived to tell about it, though I am not sure how much longer I will survive any diseases we may have contracted thanks to the nastiness of Atlanta's public transportation.

5.  It is still four days until Thanksgiving and we have the Christmas tree up.  No, I am not an overachiever.  I just didn't want to listen to anyone beg for the decorations anymore.  Incidentally, it was a great decision... there is absolutely nothing better than watching the excitement in my 2 year old's eyes as she discovers something new every time she looks at the tree.

I love everyone who reads my blog and I really am sorry for neglecting you.  Don't feel alone... I've been neglecting everyone lately.  I will try harder to not be such a stranger.  I just may need a little nudge every now and then.

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama

Gag.

As a mommy blogger, there will undoubtedly be times when the bodily fluids and functions of my children will be the focus of my attention.  This is one of those times.  Consider yourself warned.

It takes a lot to turn my stomach.

I'm the one who will watch bot fly removals and surgeries online just because the gross out factor is pretty cool.

Today though, my threshold was challenged to the brink.

My youngest is my "bloody nose kid".  The first time I tried to leave her at the Y daycare, I got pulled off the treadmill before I could even push start because she had a bloody nose.

I ran up to the childcare center, fearing the worst, only to find some crusty nastiness on her finger from where she had gone-a-diggin' for gold.

I figured if that's all a bloody nose involved, then it really couldn't be such a big deal.

Heh.

Today, while busting it to get to the kids before I got the "naughty note" for late preschool pickup, I looked to the backseat and found my little one covered in blood.  Think a bad vampire movie.

To say I freaked out would be a total understatement.   I was able to identify the source but couldn't figure out how to stop it.  I thought that a passerby would call DFCS on me, or that she would start choking on the blood pouring from her nose.  So I reached over the back with my sweatshirt covering my hand and stuffed it up her nose while I drove like a madwoman trying to get to the school.  Yes, one hand on the steering wheel, the other directly behind me trying simultaneously soothe both her AND myself.

Two minutes later we were in the parking lot, nose still flowing, and I'm looking like I just left a murder scene with both me and my child covered in blood.

I got into the school, found a teacher to help me get the nose to stop, and got her semi-cleaned up.

Then I picked up the kids, and as I was talking to the teacher, I looked down to see a half-dollar sized booger blood clot in my son's hair.  Lil bit had sneezed.  I hadn't paid attention.

Now THAT's "grosser than gross".

The teachers had to take over because I nearly lost it right then and there as I became possessed by uncontrollable gagging.

Give me Bot Fly larvae any day... but THAT, well, thanks but no thanks.

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama

Wordless Wednesday

Today was a really, really weird day.

I'm battling some odd stomach bug (No, I am definitely not pregnant so get that out of your head right. this. very. minute).   

An intended trip into Kroger for milk resulted in a 30 minute vomit inducing meltdown from my three year old... and no, the vomit was a result of my aforementioned stomach bug, but rather the result of a screaming fit I can only relate to the short scenes I've ever seen of The Exorcist.  Needless to say, I'm on the hunt for a bottle of Holy Water just in case round two hits in the next 48 to 72 hours before The Husband gets home.  Although I did meet a really nice woman there who seems to be a lot like me - although I friended her on FB not knowing if she really was the same person, so I may have someone out there thinking I'm some psycho crazy woman who befriends random people after chance encounters in parking lots.

My dogs keep barking for no known reason and looking at me expecting ME to do a trick.

The kids got a bath BEFORE dinner for a change.

And, to top it all off, I changed the sheets on my bed.  Although in all fairness, this wouldn't have happened unless my oldest hadn't decided to wake me up this morning by going "Oops mama... I think I peed your bed."

Now, I realize that most of this may not sound too strange, but really, here's the weird part:

We managed to have an organized and calm nature walk and art project this afternoon.  

I know!  It's shocking, isn't it?! 

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to relish in the loveliness of this picture and try to drown out the screaming coming from behind me as dogs and children fight over the toys.

Love, hugs, and blessings,

The Mama

That Blinking Noise

Did you know that blinking actually IS a noise?

Well, truth be told I didn't either.  In fact, I can specifically remember a number of times when I have corrected my three year old when he said "Mommy, I hear that blinking noise!"

"No, honey, you SEE the blinking light."

Nope. My three year old is right.  It actually is a noise.  A panic-attack-inducing-find-me-a-xanax-now bona-fide noise.

Let me explain.

The husband is safely back home tonight after a week on the road.  This also means that all white noise and ear plugs are now back in use to help drown out the snoring that is comforting - albeit annoying and insomnia inducing - which also returns with his homecoming.

The aforementioned insomnia is exacerbated by the fact that I just HAD TO HAVE a Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte for dessert tonight.  At 9:00 p.m.  After not having caffeine for the last three weeks.

I have given up the caffeine for a number of reasons, two of which are directly related to high blood pressure and some not-so-fun anxiety that tends to creep in when said bp gets too high.

As an aside, I would like to take this opportunity to thank my parents and their wonderful genetics for this lovely little glitch, for without you and your DNA, surely none of this post would be possible.  You gave me many gifts in my life for which I am very thankful including but not limited to a bad kidney, crappy eyesight, and a gift for sarcasm that few people can truly appreciate; however, this is one hand-me-down I really could have lived without.

Well, the caffeine-snoring-too-many-things-on-my-mind-too-much-noise-in-the-house mess led me to be wide awake nearly five hours later than I have been going to sleep.

It also made me feel the need to check the kids, and the doors, and the dogs nearly half a dozen times over a four hour period between 10 at night and 2 in the morning.

And just when I felt confident that everyone was safely snuggled in for the evening and perhaps I was finally sleepy enough to drift into dreamland, it happened...

That Blinking Noise.

Between the ear plugs, the snoring, and the fan next to my head the sound barely registered.  It was a light "clunk" kind of noise.  Just once... just lightly... but also just enough.

I shot up in bed.  I heard it again.  Twice.  Very quickly.

I thought to myself, Oh. My. God.  My kids are being abducted by aliens and I'm going to be blamed for their disappearance because I mentioned to my dad to let me know of any circus openings that he might come across. You know, just in case Ringing Brothers might be interested in a three year old with a mohawk act.

I ripped out the earplugs, realized that Chewie the Killer Shih-Tzu was still sleeping at my feet (jerk) and surely I had nothing to worry about.  Besides, the "clunk" noise was gone.

After taking a deep breath, convincing myself it was too chilly to get out of bed again, and attempting to re-deafen myself I laid down and attempted to summon the sandman.

But a few minutes later, I heard the "clunk" again.  Twice.  I sat still, waiting to see if Chewie would leap to protect us.

And as I waited, willing him to get up and show me some sign of life, it occurred to me... the "clunk" coincided with my "blink".

Blink. Clunk.
Clunk. Blink.
Blink... Clunk...
Clunk... Blink...

So as you can see, there were two very important lessons learned tonight:
1.  Pumpkin spice lattes are off limits.  Period.
2.  There is a blinking noise.

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama

Oh, Kids.

The Mohawk Monster spent today's quiet time coloring not only some paper, but also his face, arms, legs, and the sheet on his bed.

He came out, apologized, told on himself, and said he would fix it.

I followed him to his room and told him to take the sheets off of the bed and put clean ones on.  I said, "You will do this yourself.  You made the mess and you will fix it - not Mommy."

I returned two minutes later to see the sheets stripped off of the bed and the mattress tipped on it's side.  He was on all fours reading a piece of paper stuck to the wooden slat of the bed.

I asked what he was doing.

"I am fixing my mess myself, Mommy.  I'm reading the instructions for how to make the bed."

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama

Dear Fairy Godmother,

Dear Fairy Godmother,
We're going on two years now of begging and pleading for you to bippity-boppity-bo a pumpkin, or cantaloup, or some other fruit or veggie of your choice into a second vehicle option for our family.

I mean really, Cinderella got her crystal horse drawn carriage to arrive at the ball... could you maybe throw me a bone (or used but loved vehicle within our price range or that includes a reasonable monthly payment plan)?

Sure, I don't have the mice - but I'm pretty sure you are resourceful and creative enough to help a girl out.

Thank you again for your consideration,
The Mama

Ummmm...

It's 5:30 on Thursday evening.  The Husband is not around.  The kids are fed and pj'd.  Books have been read and the playroom is already cleaned up.  I'm doing some old-school-cram-prep for an intense meeting tomorrow.  As a result, the TV is on.

The "ummmm..." comes from what is ON the TV.

Picture it: A man jumping around in a too-small orange jumpsuit with an equally disturbing orange afro-hat on his head who sings obnoxious get-stuck-in-your-head songs while dancing with his extremely strange stuffed animal monster/robot/freak friends who magically come to life when he pulls them out of his ultra-fab 80's style boom-box.

No, it's not some weird new form of pornography (at least that I'm aware of).

This is actually a wildly popular children's show on Nick Jr called Yo Gabba Gabba.

Seriously, I don't get it.

When I was little, Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers entertained us through the witching hour while mom fixed dinner and we waited for bedtime.

Sure, Lady Elaine Fairchild might have been a liiiiittttllllleeeee creepy (and possibly a little gender-confused), but she was just a social outcast and gave us kids a healthy idea of what the "stranger we shouldn't talk to" might look like.

We learned real lessons, like the value of cookies when you need a pick-me-up (thanks, Cookie Monster for those extra 20 pounds, by the way - I can see why you play 2nd fiddle to Elmo, what with all the childhood obesity happening these days).

And "Neighbors" were real people you helped and hung out with - not figments of a mushroom trip imagination that became life sized, running around, jumping and singing "I'm sorry".  

I thought Caillou was my worst enemy because he was whiney.

As it turns out, my real fear should be of the wildly popular man in the orange afro who shows my children's generation that it's okay to be a spastic loner amphetamine addict.

Maybe I am missing something though.

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama

Love Letters

Dear People of Dunwoody,
If your dog decides to poo on the sidewalk, kindly pick it up.  I do not appreciate stepping in your dog's presents.
Love, The Mama

Dear Mohawk Monster,
Running around yelling that you are "A BIG BOY NOW" does not mean that you are not in trouble for throwing the car across the room and pushing your baby sister.  Actions speak louder than words, no matter how loud you yell them.
Love, The Mama

Dear Spammers,
Just because I have a Spanish-sounding last name does not mean that I understand Spanish.  You can kindly remove me from your Viagra por La Mujer distribution list.
Love, The Mama

Dear Google/Gmail,
Please look up the Spanish words for "penis" and "vagina".  The Hispanic/Latino spammers have figured out a way to get around your filters.
Love, The Mama

Dear Lil Bit,
I know you come by your temper naturally, but we really, really need to work on the screaming.  Someone is going to call DFCS on me.
Love, The Mama

Dear Piles of Laundry,
Please practice abstinence or learn how to use birth control.  You are multiplying faster than I can keep up with you.
Love, The Mama

Dear Mini-Me,

At some point you will need to accept the fact that being a princess does not get you out of cleaning your own room.  I should not need to remind you of this every. single. day.

Love, The Mama

Dear Northside Hospital,
You can either politely take my $20 payment or you can hold on until you rise to the top of the snowball list.  However, paying an individual who does not speak proper English yell at me because I won't pay you $53.29 every two weeks will not accomplish the goal you have set out to achieve.  Just sayin'...
Love, The Mama

Dear Paperwork,
Please see the note sent to Piles of Laundry.  The same applies to you.
Love, The Mama

Dear Dogs,
Really? REALLY???  I have a spray bottle and I am not afraid to use it.
Love, The Mama

Dear Barefoot Pinot Grigio,
While I appreciate the relaxation qualities imparted last night, the headache you left behind for me today was rude and unwelcome.  You will not be invited back.
Love, The Mama

Dear Calgon,
Take me away.
Love, The Mama

Taking Back Time

It is still July but already the summer days feel like they are slipping away.  My advocacy calls have started picking back up and I am refreshing my familiarity with each of "my children's" IEP's.

I am hoping to sell some of my crafts at a few holiday shows this fall, and am taking stock of my supplies and setting up a schedule to boost my inventory.

The kiddos are anxious to get back to their school too... although preschool doesn't begin until after Labor day.  In an effort to satisfy their hunger to learn and my need to feel useful in their education, we are trying to spend a little bit of time each day on letters, shapes, numbers, coloring, etc.  My hat goes off to homeschool mamas. I don't know how they do it.  God knew what He was doing when He had me walk past the Communication building to get to the Education building during college.  I've always been easily distracted and the change in majors was definitely the right move.  I do not have the patience to teach.

I have once again limited my time on Facebook, getting rid of time-sucking games and purging my friend list to something more realistic.  As a stay at home mom who doesn't have much contact with the outside world (three kids, one car, and no friends in walking distance), I found myself using the internet as an escape from Groundhog Day instead of trying to recreate my reality.  While life on the Frontier proved to be a distraction, I could also feel it physically diminishing my IQ and this morning woke up with the resolve to eliminate it from my life.  I can barely keep up my little household as it is without being responsible for farming, ranching, and collecting chicken eggs.

Add to that a dead pine tree that needs to come down, a bee infestation in my baby girl's room, and the daily demands of three kids, three dogs, and a traveling husband, and my insomnia is back in full swing.

I love the chaos of my life.  I like having lots to do.  It makes me feel useful and gives me a sense of purpose.  But I've never been great at time management, always biting off more than I can chew, and I'm back to the realm of feeling like 24 hours is not enough time in the day to accomplish everything that needs to be done.

I've come up with a few strategies to help manage my time and hope they will help.
1. I've always been a pen and paper kind of gal, so keeping a physical calendar and journal is the first weapon in my arsenal.  Yes, I have an iPhone, but electronic calendars just don't do it for me.  Plus, actually writing things down helps me remember them better.  So my "journal" keeps my random thoughts in one place, contains my never ending to-do list, and helps me remember things that I don't want to forget.  My calendar helps me maintain some resemblance of a schedule.

2.  I am making time for ME.  This is so important and for years I've neglected to take time for myself.  When the husband is around and it isn't 400 degrees outside, my me time also includes some running.  But for now, I'm spending my time at night with the TV off, listening to an audiobook and knitting.  I know I sound like a boring old lady... but it's lights out by 11:00 and I'm able to wake up and feed the six mouths demanding "breaksmast" with significantly less grumbling.  I've been doing this for a few weeks now and have become relentlessly protective of "my time".  It seems to be working.

3.  I'm (sort of) scheduling out my day.  Bedtime is set in stone for the wee-ones and the wake up hour seldom varies by more than a few minutes.  But up until now, all of the moments in between existed with little structure.  I'm still not scheduling out every second of our day, but there are chunks of time devoted to different things.  This helps me be sure I spend a little bit of each day on each thing I'm responsible for.  It's not perfect, and most days you'll still find us in PJ's at noon, but for us, for now, it works.  There will be plenty of time for over-scheduling as the kids get older.

Enjoy your time today, however you decide to spend it.

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama

Between a Rock and a Mohawk

Have you ever heard the phrase, "Ignore inappropriate behavior?"

I have.  A LOT.  I think it is the mantra my mom and dad decided to adopt the minute I came out screaming.

It is a known fact that kids will do anything when they want attention.  It is also fairly proven that if you ignore the negative behaviors and reinforce the positive ones the negative behavior will, generally speaking, cease to exist.

I said generally speaking because as with everything in my little family, my own offspring do not follow this commonality.

I discovered over the past week that my middle child, The Mohawk Monster, does not tolerate being ignored well.  He also doesn't tolerate spanking, time out, naughty squares, yelling, whispered threats, rational discussion or any other form of punishment or redirection.

So what's a mom left to do??

In my son's case, it means that every day I have to re-evaluate what will get through to him and how we are going to survive our waking hours with minimal disruption and tantrum time.

I've learned one thing for certain: ignoring inappropriate behavior does NOT work.  I don't know if it's typical "middle child" syndrome, being three, being the sibling of overbearing girls, or just the general stubborn genetic makeup that he has been cursed with, but you simply cannot just ignore my little M&M.   He will scream.  He will squeal.  He will throw himself on the floor in a fit.  He will vocalize until his throat must certainly be raw.  And he will not stop until he has been acknowledged.

Sounds like fun doesn't it.

M&M will continue pitching a fit for over an hour if left to his own devices.  The longest I've gone on letting him tantrum has maxed out at right around one hour and 25 minutes.  I was afraid the neighbors would call DFCS on me.  And for the record, I hadn't done anything except put him in his room and ignore his screaming and tantrum-throwing.

It's a difficult balancing act to adhere to.  On the one hand, I don't want to nurture a brat.  On the other, I am trying to understand his needs and be the kind of parent he deserves.  Parenting cannot be done with a One Size Fits All approach.  Each child has different demands and responds to different reinforcers.  Sure, I need to also teach my kids that they need to be flexible because things won't always be done "their way".  But it is challenging to figure out when, how, where, and why to enforce the flexibility lesson when you have a painfully inflexible child.

It's a thing called survival.  And in our case, with three children between the ages of one and four, I have to try and do what will be best for everyone - myself included.

For now, as far as parenting goes, I am waging the war of discipline in a difficult space with my son.  He is sweet as can be when he wants to be... but God help us all if he feels he isn't being heard.  He has an enormous vocabulary but doesn't possess the emotional maturity to know how to always use his words to express his needs.  He is, after all, only three.

So I will let him continue to teach me patience, and I will continue to try and teach him appropriateness.  But if you see me in the store being "that mom", just please understand that it is the approach that is working for us today.

Love, hugs, and blessing.

Reality Check

I have a few bloggers that I really do read on a daily basis.  Sometimes they are inspiring and motivating.

And sometimes, they make me want to crawl back into bed and start over fresh tomorrow.

I'm just not a glass-half-full kind of girl.  That's not to say I'm a glass-half-empty gal either.  I'm more of a "the liquid contents are in the middle of the cup" and if that cup contains, say, coffee or wine then I'm likely to just refill it without much more thought.

Life in our house is what it is.  None of my kids can wipe their own poopie bottoms yet.  We generally stay in PJ's until after 10 when Sesame Street is over.   There is always a dog or a child crying, barking, or yelling - and yes, even the kids bark sometimes.  I often use the leftover coffee from breakfast to make iced coffee at 3 in the afternoon when I'd love nothing more than to curl up in a ball until after the kids are asleep.  Dinner is usually between 4 and 5, followed by cuddle time and Sprout, and the babes are in bed by 7.

We definitely have our share of "suck the marrow out of life moments", but we still have a lot of days that begin and end in 100% pure survival mode.

My whole point is that as I was browsing through my daily reads this morning, simultaneously scrolling and drinking coffee with one hand while pulling the three year old off of the dog with the other, I was struck by the fact that a few of the moms on my reading list are all-day-every-day rainbows and fairy dust.   Maybe this is intentional - like the moms in question don't really want to share the not-so-pretty sides of life.  But I can't help but feel like it isn't reality.

To their credit, there are definitely some mamas out there who call it like it is.  And, as with everything, there are some who are completely over the top with their negative musings and foul-mouthed reflections.  Usually, I would dismiss those things that don't fill me up and put them out of my mind.

Perhaps it's because we are already on our 5th time-out of the morning, or maybe it has to do with the fact that I haven't even been able to get through this post without losing my train of thought about half a dozen times.  But today for some reason I can't seem to just ignore the fact that, while occasionally inspiring, the all-good-news-all-the-time blogs have rubbed me the wrong way.

My day began with sweet kisses from my girls followed by hugs from the mohawk monster.  We then spiraled into a tantrum over pop-tarts versus bagels and topped that segment of our programming off with orange juice spilled all over the floor and a round of time out.  The next chapter began with a dog fight, a bottom wipe, and hugs between the littles which quickly turned into a pint-sized mess of screaming, arm pulling, and crying (enter time-out number two - or three... I've lost count already). Five minutes of Sesame Street snuggles were short lived but savored as my attention-span-of-fleas offspring ran off to make a tent someplace.  Another time-out was given as a golf ball was lobbed from brother to baby sister and a bossy slap was exchanged between the oldest and middle child. Punishments were administered, tears were dried, kisses were given, and I love you's were exchanged.

Right now, All three children are clothed in big-sister-imposed princess attire.  The dogs have been adorned with dress-up necklaces.  And somewhere from the depths of her closet,  Mini-Me can be heard proclaiming that it is "Kingdom Day" and that everyone needs to be quiet.  The Bichon is antagonizing the puppy-mutt resulting in screeches and growls.  And as I finalize my thoughts, a knock and "I'm DOOOONNNNNEEEEEEEE" are being called from the bathroom.

This is my world: glass half-full, glass half-empty, and everything in between.  And even though it isn't always fairy dust and unicorns (but is usually princess crowns and puppy breath), I wouldn't change it - or share it - any other way.

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama

Good Ones and Bad Ones

Everyone has them: Good days... bad days... days you would like to forget... days you never want to forget...

I'm in a cycle of "I'd like to forget them but they aren't bad enough for the record book" series of days.  Yesterday I experienced a moment of parental genius when I found an actual positive purpose for those silly shaped rubber bands that are all the craze right now.

But the euphoria from that "lightbulb" was short lived and today my vocal cords are burning and may actually shred into pieces from shouting over the volume of kids arguing and dogs fighting - usually all at once.  Despite the "two hour mandatory nap on hump day" policy that was strictly enforced, my mood is as gloomy as a cold November afternoon.

July historically falls squarely into the "never want to forget it" or the "desperately want to forget it" category with very little wiggle room.  I look forward to the heat of summer and the sparkle of Fourth of July fireworks like a little kid waits for Santa on Christmas.

I remember almost every 4th of July from when I was a child.  We either went to cookouts at the golf course with friends or spent our days on the beaches of St. Simons.  As I've gotten older, my yearning to give my own children the same experience - and my own selfish desire to feel my toes in the sand - has driven me to a tunnel-vision like focus on getting the hell out of dodge sometime during the summer months.

This summer we decided to forego the summer vacation and focus on things closer to home.  We built a swingset in the backyard and have upped our water bill exponentially by celebrating many nights of sprinkler time to cool down after a hot day.

But now, halfway through the summer, I am desperately longing for the sound of the ocean and some quiet time with a book on the beach.  Or maybe just some good earplugs and a soft, white, padded room... and maybe some tea with honey for my throat...

Yes, I know I have three children and "quiet time" is something that I long ago chose to give up.

But the reality is that I am looking forward to the kiddos going back to school.  I'm ready for a couple of hours of time almost to myself.   As much as I adore my babies, I need some time to recharge my own batteries too.  Sometimes it feels like every day is Groundhog Day and I need something positive to help break this particular cycle of deja-vous.

If I suggest a "staycation" next year, please take away a silly band... and send me to time out to think about my behavior.

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama