I Missed The Bus

Yesterday, the boys and I were at our local YMCA. They were having fun playing with friends and we were just a few minutes up the road so I planned on getting home right before Isabelle's bus would arrive home. My brilliant planned was foiled though by an unexpected last minute potty trip and a driver in front of us doing 25mph in a 40 zone. They were unexpected things that I should have factored in enough time for but I didn't because we were SO close to home. I have no one to blame but myself.

As I was driving the few minute ride back home the panic started to set in that we weren't going to make it home in time. Ahead shortly in the distance I saw a bus and felt relief thinking it was hers. Even though it was ahead of me, I'd just follow it to my house and frantically beep and waive when they stopped. Alas, though that bus drove past our street and then I knew - no bus on our street and no bus in my rear view meant that I had missed it. It was exactly one minute past her usual drop off time.

I pulled in the driveway and wasn't even out of the car before my cell phone rang. It was the transportation director informing me that Isabelle was still on the bus since no one was home when they tried to drop her off. I told them I was home now and she radioed to the driver who was nice enough to turn back since she was just a bit further up in the neighborhood. I was overly and sincerely apologetic to the bus driver and she was super nice and understanding about it. She said that she knows I wait outside everyday and knew something must have just come up. I guess she had Isabelle go to the door and knock just to make sure and when I didn't answer she had Isabelle get back on. All I can envision is my poor little girl knocking on an unanswered door! Luckily, Isabelle was completely unaffected by the whole thing. She actually asked if we could do it again someday since she liked getting to go back on the bus - ha!

I'm sure that things like this happen frequently and in the grand scheme of things it's not that big of a deal but I'm still feeling pretty bad about it. Although, given the experience I can at least say that I'm glad that I live in a town that wouldn't just drop a Kindergartner off at a house with no one home. I'm glad that we have a great bus driver. I'm glad that Isabelle is independent enough to not freak out when her mother abandons her. Isabelle may not be scarred for life from it but I'm pretty sure I am. Going forward, you can bet that I will be home WAY before that bus ever comes!

The Truth Behind Bedtime Stories

As everyone knows you're supposed to read to your children. It sounds so easy. It sounds like it will be such a nice bonding experience. It sounds like it will be a relaxing thing to do before bed. 

I'm here to tell you that it's not - well not in our house anyway. If we want to get in some quality reading time it's definitely better to do it long before bedtime and preferably with just one child at a time. 

This is how reading at bedtime to three children goes at our house:

1.      Someone is always asking questions (What's that? Why did they do that? What does this say?)

2.      Someone is always invading personal space (That's where I'm sitting! I want my foot there!)

3.      Someone is always trying to turn the page too early (Stop it!!)

4.      No one can ever see (Look out! But I can't seeeeeeeee!)

5.      Someone is always fighting (See numbers 1 through 4 above)

6.      Someone is always crying (See numbers 1 through 5 above)

7.      Someone always wants to send the kids to the orphanage (Oh, that's me.)

 

Please tell me this is happening in other houses besides just my own. Oh, and if this rings home for you, make sure you read my post Top Five Reasons I Hate the Library!
 

Great Expectations: Struggling Through the Terrible Twos

Today, I am honored (like legit honored) to be guest posting over at G*Funk*ified.

For those who aren't familiar with the blog, it's run by the super awesome Greta who is a mom to four young children and is sweet, sincere, and sassy. She has a guest post series called Great Expectations where people share an expectation they had and then what it really turned out to be. Today, I'm openly admitting the struggles that I'm having with my youngest. I'm questioning my choices, my parenting skills, and my sanity. Click HERE to read the whole story and while you're there leave me a comment to let me know you stopped by G*Funk*ified. Oh, and why not go give Greta some love on her Facebook page, too? Thanks!

My Husband Thinks Our House Is Dirty

For the past few weekends my husband seemed a bit “off.” He was more annoyed by things, more frustrated, more not liking life so much (in my opinion). So last weekend I asked him what was bothering him and his answer really surprised me. It turns out it wasn’t just the annoyance of children (which I had chalked it up to) but instead he said that he felt like he had to spend the weekends cleaning and that the house was dirty. At first I kind of wanted to punch him in the face. As a stay at home mom/housewife I felt like his comment was a huge slap in the face to me but you know what? He was right.

I do spend my days sweeping, vacuuming, cleaning up toys, doing laundry and all that “fun” stuff. However, I’m not scrubbing the floors, or the walls, or cleaning out the fridge on a regular basis. This is precisely the dirt that he was referring to. I honestly just don’t like doing that stuff. My mother on the other hand loved to clean. A lot of my memories of her when she was in good health were of her cleaning. I just didn’t inherit that gene. 

Plus, it’s tough with the kids. Who has time to really clean when you have three small children to look after? But I think I’ve been using them as an excuse. The truth is do I have the time. There are moments of down time when I could be washing the floor boards but I choose not to. I choose to be on Facebook. I choose to write blog posts. I choose to watch General Hospital. Now does that make me a bad housewife? Eh, the jury is still out.

I do think those things makes me a better mother though. I need that down time to refuel, to recharge, and to have contact with someone who wants to discuss things other than crafts, dinosaurs, and Elmo. But my husband’s comment struck close to home (too close to home). I had been slacking. 

So this past week I started tackling the rooms on by one. I cleaned and scrubbed parts of the kitchen that I’m not sure have been touched in the past five years. I’m talking about scrubbing the top of the refrigerator, using all those fancy attachments of the vacuum to clean the space above your cabinets but below the ceiling, and I got every last bit of crayon/pen off the front of the cabinets. It felt good – damn good. 

The house is definitely still a work in progress and I have lots left to do but I’m getting there. In order to avoid the “D” word from being used again to describe the house I’ve also decided to assign myself chores for each day. I know, I know, what am I 10 years old and need chores? But yeah, I think I do. I am a planner and do better with a set schedule. So I’m going to have a day for mopping, a day for bathroom cleaning, a day for changing sheets, etc. So if after all of this my husband still thinks that the house is dirty I’m going to hand over the mop to him (after I punch him in the face).

These were my only friends last week

When Pre-K Drop Off Goes Wrong

Today was Isabelle’s first day of Pre-K. Last year on her first day of preschool, I had Tim stay home with the boys so I could drop her off just one on one in case there were any issues. When I dropped her off then she barely even waved good bye to me and had no problems whatsoever. She LOVED preschool all year so I figured her first day this year would go off without a hitch. Ummm…not so much.

The morning started out great and she was excited to go. She was dressed and with her back pack on a full half hour before we would even have to think about leaving. Since she was eager to go I decided we would head out and run a few quick errands on our way. So we all happily headed out the door as Isabelle held it open for us. She then turned and shut the screen door but didn’t realize Daniel was still standing in front of it. The door caused him to catapult down the flight of deck stairs and land face first on the pavement. The fall was BAD but luckily there were no major injuries. Conveniently since we were early we had enough time to go in and clean up the blood before trying take two of leaving the house! We were then able to take some pictures and successfully arrive at school on time. 

So excited to get to bring her lunch this year!

Hanging up her backpack in her cubby

Things were great. Things were perfect – and then they weren’t. When it was time for me to leave Isabelle started crying…and crying…and crying. She’s been a bit off for the last month or so with saying good byes or even good nights so I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was. It was the same school, same kids, and same familiar teachers so I thought she would be fine. As it was time for me to make my exit she was crying and yelling “One more kiss and hug!!!” as the teacher had to hold her back. I would have felt worse about it except I was distracted by Daniel who decided that he did not want to leave. Since I had to leave quickly I picked him up which caused him to go into full blown toddler meltdown mode. You know the kind involving kicking, screaming, and full on arm flailing? I thought once I got him in the hallway he would settle down. He didn’t. I thought when I got him in the stairwell he would settle down. He didn’t. I thought when I got him outside he would settle down. He didn’t. I thought when I got him in the car he would settle down. He didn't. Ugh.

Luckily, we are very familiar with the school and the people there so they know we are generally not “that family.” But today indeed we were. We were “that family” with a preschooler hysterically trying to fight off a teacher to get to her mother while her bloody faced brother screamed loud enough for everyone in the entire building to hear. On the plus side, there’s no place to go but up for Henry’s first day of school tomorrow! Right?!

A Warning to All Visitors to our House

Please ignore the…
Cheerios on the floor,
Crayon on the wall,

Sticky substance under the table,
Dust bunnies who have made our home their home as well,

Fingerprints on the windows,

Endless toys under your feet, and
Dirty dishes in the sink.

Happy, healthy children are hard at work and we are busy making memories. 

What I Really Want For Mother’s Day

1. I would like eight hours of deep, continuous sleep. I want eight hours where I don’t wake up once when a kid coughs or turns over loudly. I want eight hours where no one is up during the night going potty. I want eight hours of silence. I want eight hours where my brain is completely turned off. Sleep – deep, perfect sleep.
2. I would like a day where I sit alone on the couch all day in my comfy clothes watching endless crappy tv and surfing the internet. There are no children around anywhere and I feel no guilt.
3. I would like a day where I don’t have to feed the children anything. No constant requests for snacks, no planning what to serve for meals, no arguing about eating healthy foods, no debating over whether they can have dessert or not. Sorry kids, kitchen is closed.
4. This one might be a bit far-fetched but I would like one of those instant shower and dressing machines like on the Jetsons. Not having to bathe or dress the children – can you imagine? No arguing about who has to take a bath with who, no breaking up fights when one child inevitably dumps water on the other one’s head, no cleaning up gallons of water on the bathroom floor, no shampoo in the eyes, no wrestling squirming toddlers to get in to clothes, no mismatched socks. It.sounds.perfect.
5. I would like to fast forward the bedtime routine. The kids are great about going to bed but the process of getting them there seems to take forever. Between PJs, potty trips, a diaper change, three sets of teeth needing brushing, finding all favorite stuffed animals, arguing over who Tim and I are going to carry up the stairs and who has to walk, it just seems to draggggggggggggggggg. I want to be able to just hit the fast forward button on this and catch up on the time by pausing it when they are asleep. There is nothing more wonderful than watching a beautiful, sleeping child in their bed (especially when they were a complete monster during the day). 

Daniel and Henry scour the internet to find the perfect present. Little do they know Mommy just wants time away from them!