Ch-ch-ch-changes....

There are times in my life that I am completely gung-ho-no-holds-barred-in-your-face-go-get-em with life.  I get stuff done, and the house is clean, and I am on top of the folders that come home from school.  Dishes are done and put away.  The dog is completely taken care of, including walked. I make my husband coffee and a hot breakfast, and take it to him into the office.  I have lesson plans for my preschool done for the next two weeks, with copies made, and all art project things prepared and waiting to be used.  We have meal plans, and schedules down, and discipline incentives are being implemented and carried through.

I am winning life in these times.

Then I have weeks like this week.

I have rewashed the same load of laundry three times because I didn't get it out and now it mildewed. Then mildewed again.  And then again.  The stuff in the dryer...it just lives there now.  I open the door to visit it and say hi.  It seems to enjoy these visits.

The amount of clutter is overwhelming.  I would complain about it, but I am pretty sure those coffee cups that are growing mold in them are mine because I haven't brought them to the dishwasher.  Funny, mold in coffee cups and in leftovers in the fridge are just about the ONLY plants that I can keep alive. I am actually quite a proficient horticulturist that way.

The homework and take home folders from school are so full, that the teacher had to take out the things, paper clip them together, put them in a regular file folder and start fresh. The homework gets done, but who has time to look at the corrected work???  Teachers, I adore you.  You are my people, you really are.  You deserve all of the things and a massage and a foot rub as well.  But it would seriously save me some steps if you would correct the work, and just put it right in the recycling bin because that is what ultimately happens here.  I trust your judgement girl...I don't need evidence unless there is an issue.

The dishes are just shy getting me my own episode of "Hoarders".  Stacked up to the ceiling, with who knows what all over them, and a funny smell that I just keep hoping will wash off once I get the dishwasher loaded. Is there a dead bird in there?  Maybe...we may never know.  I have the IHP's (indoor homeless people for you newbies.  Because let's face it, children really are just homeless people that live inside.  They wander around, dragging their possessions.  They lay around where ever they can find space.  And I am positive I have seen them eating out of the trash can.) do the dishes for me, but bless them....they are just really awful at it.  They actually put away an entire dishwasher full of dirty dishes once.  When I asked them, "Did you NOT see all of the crap all over them??"  Mini me just shrugged and Thumbelina stared at me like I was asking the dumbest question in the history of ever.  I pray for the souls of my future sons and daughters in law.  I hope they are full of the fruits of the spirit because they are going to need every. single. blessed. one.

My poor dog just stares at me. "Is today the day???  Will you walk me today??  Oh crap, you are on the couch.  It is not happening is it?" I tell him, "dude.  I have baby puke all over my shirt.  I have been singing wheels on the bus all day.  I also have had to listen to no less than 192,874,876 stories about Minecraft.  The house is a wreck and yet this is the first I have sat down all day because I am honestly doing SOMETHING and ALL THE THINGS, but I can not say what those are, because I swear on the life of Haley Joel Osment I can't remember.  I love you, but I need Netflix for 30 minutes. Ok?"  He does not understand this.  He continues to stare.

Breakfast has gone from Scrambled eggs and sausage, fresh fruit and coffee lovingly carried into the office, to, "I don't have time.  There are bagels and coffee in the pot." yelled from the playroom. Every man for himself, Admiral and children included.

Lesson plans are done the night before, and supplies are scrambled to gather right before the project is being done.  My students are getting very good at chatting with each other at the table while I mix paint.

Meal plans consist of, "yeah, I have no idea." and ultimately it ends up being tacos. Taco Tuesday!!  and Wednesday!! And Thursday!!

The chore chart has been all but abandoned.  I offer chore bucks (our incentive of choice) to anyone who will go bring me an iced tea from the fridge, or throw a diaper away for me, or bring me my phone that I leave all over the blooming house.

Why you ask?

I will tell you.

I now have all four children in school.  This means I must pack snacks, fill out slips, send in items, go to events for, and sign things for ALL. FOUR. CHILDREN.  I don't even want to tell you what I had to do for Little man with all of his million and five allergies.  For his epi pen, and inhaler, and steroids that I had to send in, I had to fill out no less than five million papers, a doctors asthma plan, and submit the blood of a virgin.

I also now have a child involved in extracurriculars.  Which means, I am at ALL. THE. THINGS.  In order to go to all the things while having to bring all the people takes planning.  "Is it going to be during a meal time?  I will need to bring food.  Is it going to be in between meal times?  I will need to bring snacks.  Is it going to be long?  I will need to make sure I bring some things for them to do.  Is it going to be cold?....."  It is not just, "let's go and tra la la."  It is a well thought out tactical plan.  Imagine a military mock up of the battlefield and pieces to resemble each child.  The Admiral and I painstakingly maneuvering and trying to think four steps ahead so that it can be a successful military operation. Seal team six sometimes has to be called.

On top of this, I have slowly started to try and reclaim some of myself.  I am singing on the worship team at my church.  YRH babysits the littles now, so Admiral and I are dating each other again which is absolutely amazing.  I am meeting up with friends again for drinks and dinners.

 People, being out in the public.....It is just as glorious as I thought it could be.  To all of my friends with children out there hesitant to leave your kids with babysitters....CUT THAT CRAP OUT!  Find someone you trust, and go out for heaven's sake!  Your kids will be fine.  I promise.  If you don't know any teenagers that are close to you, do what I did.  Hit up your church's youth pastor for names.  If you don't go to church....GO.  THEY HAVE CHILDCARE!  You can sit for a good hour in the sanctuary and have a thought to yourself for a moment!  I live for silent prayer time.  (Dear God....just...shhhhh......this is amazing."  Trust me, God believes in the ministry of a quiet thought alone with multiple deep cleansing breathes.

Then here is the cherry on the proverbial cake my loved ones.  I have a job.  A big wonderful awesome job.  I run a preschool/daycare out of my house.  My own children aren't even in it anymore.  This year, the ages that I have are 3, 2 1/2, 2, 4 months, and 2 months. The last time I had babies in my preschool was when I had Little man and child-that-I-care-for #1 (who btw graduated last year to go to kindergarten.  Cue all the feels.....) So I am adjusting to yet another new normal.  Baby normal.  And guess what.  Babies do not care if you want to do circle time.  They also do not care if you are wearing a new outfit that you got for your birthday. They are non-discriminatory pukers.

I may sound like I am complaining, but that is far from the truth.  I love my job.  I love babies.  I love that I am having to adjust because I get bored super super easy without a challenge.  And this is a big ol giant challenge.  But I got this.  Don't you fret.  I already have them on the same nap schedule, and it has only been a week and a half.  Go ahead, I will let you applaud.....

I guess the moral of this story is: life changes.  

You might think that the phase in your life that you are going through will last forever.   You feel you will forever be changing diapers, (well, in my case, kinda yeah because I do daycare.. unless that is you, you won't, I promise).  You might think, my kid is going to constantly be throwing tantrums until Jesus returns.  You might think your job or where you live, or the situation that you are living in is always going to be the same.  Well, I promise you, if I have learned anything in the last couple of years it is this:

EVERYTHING CHANGES.

Everything.  Even if you don't seek out to change it, it changes.  Change will be thrust upon you in some way.  It could be in a good way.  It could be in a less than desirable way, but it will still change.  Life ebbs and flows.  Kids grow up.  Jobs come and go.  People who you think will be in your life forever suddenly won't be.  And where a gaping hole was where they used to be, will suddenly be filled by something or someone else. Not to say it will take that person's place.  No one in your life can ever be replaced.  They have left an everlasting mark. But your time and attention will be shifted.   A relationship that was on the fringe, will suddenly be front and center in your life.  People will disappoint us, resulting in a change in trust. Our job, as people of this earth, is to learn to deal with this change.  We can try to fight it, but that is futile.  Or we can adapt.

I have found that you are stronger and more pliable than you think when it comes to change.  Something you thought you could "Never do in a million years" is presented before you.  Then a year from thinking that, you are up and not only doing but excelling in it.

You can do change.  Just wait.  I think you will surprise yourself.

Except for that laundry.  It is just going to live there forever and ever amen.

Saint Uncle.....I salute you

Hello, lovelies!!  It has been FOREVER since I have blogged and I have to say I have missed you.

The reason for my long absence is two fold.

#1. I have four children.
 In the time it has taken me to write these few lines, I have been interrupted no less than 139,874,795,875 times.  Questions like, "But how do I clean my room mommy? I don't know hooooow" and "Hey look what I can do mom! Isn't this the coolest!" and "Thumbelina is not helping clean our room momma!!  And most of this is her mess!!" (which I know is not a question but a proclamation, but never the less my mini me requires a response to even the most rhetorical of statements).

#2. I lost my funny for awhile. 
We had quite a few bombs dropped on my family in the recent.  I had blogged about my brother's cancer.  We are also currently finding a new normal in my extended family as we care for aging parents as a group and are figuring out how to do that.  In the process of doing that it has required a lot of emotions and emoting on my part. None of that was good for public consumption.  Finding out who you are while going through major life events has a tendency to suck the funny right out of you.  But fortunately, I have learned that I am a pretty resilient person, and new normals and funny things can be found in even the darkest of times.

So now I seem to be back to my old self with new and wonderful travels in the odyssey of parenting to share with you, dear reader!  Thanks for sticking around!


I thought I would start my return from the nether with a bang.  Have I got a fun story for y'all!!!!

First, let me give you an update on where we are with littles and your royal highness.

This year, YRH has started high school.  All I have to say about that is my baby boy is now not only taller than me, but gaining ground on his dad, and is SHAVING!!

Fix. It. Jesus.

How am I parent to a high schooler???? I remember high school like...really really well.  I know what sort of things I did in high school. I am not prepared for this.

Next, Thumbelina and mini me are now in Second grade.  They are into hair, and clothes, and big girl stuff.  What the actual what??  They are semi-logical, and you can somewhat reason with them once in a while.  It is surreal.

And finally, last but not least, and the star of our story for today, Little Man.  He just started kindergarten, which I know, I know....how in the ever did that happen?  Well, apparently if you continually feed and water children, they will continue to live and do stuff.  Who knew???

So before I start our tale, I have to give you a little back story.

Last year,  we have had to have several discussions about not kissing boys on the playground.  Becuase, well, we have had some issues with one of our daughters kissing boys on the playground.  (The admiral is currently dying a thousand deaths just reading this sentence.)  And in the process of the discussion at the table the night of one of the incidents, I watched the blood drain from his face, and I thought I was going to have to run for smelling salts. Though....I am not entirely sure where one would get smelling salts, I just know when one is dying a thousand deaths, one needs smelling salts.

But I digress.

We had a big talk about how we do not kiss boys on the playground, we do not kiss friends, we only kiss mommy and daddy and, sure, why not, your brother and sister.  BUT THAT IS IT!!  Are hugs ok?  Of course, hugs are ok.  You can hug all of your friends.  That is fine.

In addition to needing this lesson, Little man is learning about family.  I have a very very large extended family, and this is all very confusing for Little man.  He has trouble keeping all of the uncles, aunts, cousins, and cousins' boyfriends and girlfriends straight.  So we very often have to go over who all is and is NOT in our family.  His mind was literally blown apart when I explained that his cousin was getting married, and though, no, her fiance was not a part of our family yet, as soon as they are married, he will, in fact, yes, be a part of our family from there on out.

Head. Canon.

Allow me to fast forward to our story.

My sister's wonderful husband had promised Little man that he would let him come over for a camp out in the backyard during the summer. (We all know, momma doesn't camp.)  As with most summers, they go by fast and all of a sudden there is no summer left.  So the first Friday after Little man's first week of school, he called me.
"Would he like to camp out tonight?  I am free. I just need a tent."
"Oh yes, he is going to freak out!  He would love that. I have a tent you can use."

Plans were made, time was set.  Little man was psyched.

That evening, Little man heads over to the campout.  Just he and his Uncle.  The tent was set up, fire in the fire pit.  Marshmallows and sticks ready.

I received a ton of texts from my brother in law with pictures of Little man roasting mallows, running in and out of the tent, feet up by the fire. Flashlight shone creepily on his face.  He was having a ball.  At about 10 pm, his uncle said, "Hey let's go up and play at the park!  It is night time and we will have the place to ourselves!"  Little man grabs his flashlight and is already running.

They get there, and apparently, because of the nice weather, they were not the only ones who thought a night time play session was a good idea.  Most of the neighbors and their kids and/or grandkids were there, talking and playing, and socializing.  After a little while, Little man is climbing on the play structure clear across the entire playground.

He yells to his uncle at the top of his lungs (which btw is he is already really really loud, so this is even louder) "You are my uncle right?"

Now, looking at this through the neighbor's eyes, this question....it looks super suspicious, right? "why is he asking this?  Did he snatch this kid off the street by saying he is his uncle?"  It just sounds wrong, doesn't it?

Little man is not done.

His uncle (Who I am calling now and forever more, saint uncle.) replies, "Yes.  Yes I am Little man."

Little man pauses for only a moment before pointing his finger at his uncle and saying, "You can hug me, but you can't kiss me." and returns to climbing on the structure.

Get. The. Smelling. Salts.

Saint uncle was not dying a thousand deaths. He was dying 4,982,349,874 deaths at this point.  Surely the cops were being called.

Upon relaying this story to me, saint uncle said, "Honestly at this point I was tempted to just yell back, 'Ok little man, now get back in the tent in my back yard', because I could not have been any creepier to these people."

Saint uncle.....I salute you....