You are currently browsing all entries tagged with 'A day in the Life'

Bigger, Stronger School

  • August 25, 2009 8:49 pm

Today, I dropped my three-year-old at his new “bigger, stronger, school” for the first time since we stopped by last week to meet his teacher.  I was a little nervous because every time we mentioned the new school, he told me he didn’t need to go; he explained that he could just stay home with mommy.  Awesome.  But, we kept preparing him, telling him how much fun he would have, and how big he would be.  But, he wasn’t buying it.

So, we problem solved, and we bribed him.  Bribery, I believe, should only be used in emergency situations.  This was one such emergency.

Last night, my husband took my son on a little shopping trip in Decatur.  While in the shoe section of Bealls, my son stumbled upon some awesome tennis shoes that LIGHT UP.  He was so pumped about the novelty of those shoes, that of course my husband caved.  He was smart about it though, I have to give him credit for that.  He struck up a deal:  shoes for school.  My son agreed, and the purchase was made. 

He woke up at 2 this morning, and came into my room in underwear and those shoes.  Remember, I told you he was broken.

Anyway, this morning, he jumped out of bed into those shoes (again), pulled on his new backpack (courtesy of my sister), and grabbed his lunchbox.  He was chattering on and on about how big he was, and how he was going to his NEW SCHOOL.

But, that was before we actually got to the school.  When we walked down the hall to his classroom, he began telling me that he didn’t really have to STAY at his school, he just needed to say hi to his teacher.  I kept urging him along, again talking about the awesomeness of the upcoming day.  When we got to his classroom to join the class, he attached himself to my ankle, and began to whimper.  Not totally crying, but not the happy sound I needed.  The teacher helped me pry him loose, and get him into the line of kids headed for the playground.  He kept looking back at me, unsure of what to do next.  I lingered back at the classroom door, also a little unsure.  I willed him to look at his shoes and to start having a fantastic day.  Yes, I believe in the power of shoes :)   When he was finally out of sight, I slipped out to my car, but with a heavy heart.

I know he needs to go to preschool.  I know he needs to be big this year.  I know he will have a blast once he gets into the routine.  I know that in my head; my heart just isn’t so sure.  And, I don’t know that Bealls has enough shoes to get us both through the year.

My R.E.M. is M.I.A.

  • August 17, 2009 9:58 pm

My three-year-old is broken. 

I blame my husband for this one.  When we moved into this house, my son was just under 2 years old, and in theory, close to making the leap to the Big Boy Bed.  Because of this, my husband reasoned we should just skip setting up the crib in this house.  He figured making all the changes at once was a good plan.  I wasn’t completely on board with this plan, but moving makes me tired, so I just went with it.   Also, my adorable little angel had already mastered climbing out of the crib, and that made me tired too. Since my other two never did this, I was open to suggestions.  My previous plan of continually dumping the little guy back into the crib wasn’t working out so well.  So there we were.  New plan=Big Boy Bed

Ya, that was fun.  It’s way easier to get out of a bed than a crib.  We FINALLY broke the little guy of his 1500 return trips to the living room for “one more drink, one more book, one more kiss…”  You name it, and he thought of it.  I don’t remember how we fixed this part of his routine, because mostly it’s a blur of putting him to bed, sitting on the couch, getting up, walking him back to bed, standing outside his door, pointing back to the bed, trying to sit back on the couch…you get the idea.  He also might be my night owl child, so that added to the bedlum.  I’m not sure he was ever on board with ACTUALLY GOING TO BED.

So, he’d FINALLY go to sleep, and almost every night at some point I’d hear slap slap slap of little toddler feet on the kitchen floor.  He’d come into our room, and I’d walk him back to his bed, snuggle for a minute…or until dawn, whichever.  I don’t know how many times I woke up at sunrise with my neck bent at a right angle around his head on the twin bed.  Cozy.   Consequently, now we are in a pattern that doesn’t seem to have an end in sight.  He doesn’t wake up every night, but pretty darn close.  I’ve become so immune to it that sometimes I wake up and he’s in bed with me.  THAT is saying something.  I’ve always been very adamant on the “children sleep in their bed” thing.  I wasn’t one of those moms who could sleep with the baby.  I was always AWAKE and AWARE of EXACTLY where the baby was, which I think wasn’t the point of letting the baby be in the bed in the first place.  I think it was supposed to be a more relaxing kind of thing.  Anyway, it kind of carried over as they grew.  I just never was able to get that extra REM with all those extra people in my bed.  And now, getting any REM is pretty much non-existent.  As I drift off into dreamland, I lay in anticipation of that slap slap slap sound.  It’s beginning to not be a very cute sound, too.  I know his feet will be bigger one day, and I’ll be wishing for little toddler feet, but right now…not loving their little sound.

I’m guessing I’m not the only Mom that has cultivated a wake-up artist, right?  This, along with flushing, will fix themselves at some point in the future.  But to have the secure knowledge that when I laid my head down to sleep, it would be morning before I awoke?  I might just walk around flushing toilets for fun.  Deliriously rested.


  • August 17, 2009 11:18 am

I know I’m spoiled.  I really really am.  All my children are potty trained, and I am beyond the whole diaper-era of motherhood.  I acknowledge this fact, and accept that I’m being just a little whiny today.

But really, every time I go into the bathroom I’m met with a little present in the potty.  Is it really that hard to press the little silver handle after doing your business?  Really?  Obviously I failed at some point in the potty training process for my kids to have missed this crucial detail.

I guess I should be happy they wash their hands.  Little victories.  Surely they won’t graduate high school still not knowing how to do this simple little task.  Surely.

Can I take a sick day please?

  • August 13, 2009 5:44 pm

I’m sick.  or have allergies.  Something’s up with my nose anyway, and all I want to do is dope up on some Benadryl or Nyquil and sleep the sickness away.  But I can’t.  I have all these kids.  It’s a trap.

And, for some reason, they have a hard time emphathizing when Mommy gets sick.  They still need things like food, water, clothing, shelter, and entertainment.  The nerve.  If you make me, I’ll admit that they have their moments, and have been known to bring me glasses of water, Kleenex, and pillows.  But for the most part, I wander around in a stupor waiting out the day until either naptime or bedtime.  Then, there’s relief.  Then, there’s Nyquil.

For now, I’ll go get the Bedtime Routine underway, and count down the minutes until doped up slumber.

The Mom Bag

  • August 10, 2009 7:59 pm

Tomorrow, I am heading out on an end-of-summer field trip with the kids, and so tonight, I have to plan out the Mom Bag.

There’s a progression of the Mom Bag, don’t you think?  It starts out as a Diaper Bag-packed to the brim with diapers, wipes, baby Tylenol, bottles, rattles, extra clothes, cheerios, diaper rash cream, snugglies, and maybe a little book. I never found the Perfect Diaper Bag-the perfect combination of waterproof, cuteness, and functionality.  I went through quite a few during the search, but never found the exact right thing.  Then, there’s the Toddler Bag.  This bag holds pull-ups, extra underwear, snacks, sippy cups, and different toys-like matchbox cars and Polly Pockets.  This bag is usually a little smaller, with less compartments.  Again, I experimented.  A lot.   The next step in the process is simply a Bigger Bag.  It doesn’t have to be a diaper bag, but it can be.  The kind that looks more like a purse though-very important detail, and very exciting detail. 

This is where I am in the progression.  You never know what you might find in my bag.  I should win some kind of contest.  I recently cleaned out said bag, and found a baggie of stale Cheez-Its, 7 matchbox cars, a cloth diaper (used for snuggling around this house), a kid wallet, an adult wallet, lip gloss, band-aids, baby nail clippers, a Spider-Man fruit snack, an empty water bottle, and trash.  Yep, trash.  That’s not a complete inventory, but you get the idea.  And, I’m still constantly changing bags.  If I’m headed out, kid-free, I pick a cute, hopefully “stylish” bag.  If I’m headed out with my oldest, I grab a bag that will hold MY book and HERS.  If I’m headed to a meeting, I’ll grab an even DIFFERENT bag that might hold folders, or my computer.  Bag Chaos.  That’s what I have.

I’ve admired smaller bags, purses even!  And, I’m looking forward to the days that my purse stays packed with MY things, free of food-gunked matchbox cars.  A bag that WORKS for everything I need.  But then again, maybe that would be just boring?

What’s the status of your Mom Bag?

getting out the door

  • August 7, 2009 12:47 pm

All I wanted to do this morning was go to Wal-Mart.  I’ll admit it, I’ve been procrastinating the grocery shopping this week.  If you looked in my refrigerator last night you’d find leftovers, mustard, and some pimento cheese.  Maybe an orange or two rolling around in one of those bottom drawers as well.  But, (using my best whiney voice), I didn’t want to go shopping with THE KIDS.  Ugh.  I finally manned-up, and started the ball rolling at 7 this morning.  Yes, 7 in the A.M.  Around here, if the sun’s up, we’re up.

Like I said, my entire goal was to get to Wal-Mart, and get home.  There was no field tripping to plan for, no lunches to pack, no bags to coordinate.  Just get up, brush teeth, and get dressed.  I didn’t even require matching clothing.  Just clothing.  It was a Simple Plan.  It. took. forever.  I told the kids their mission (the aforementioned teeth and clothing), and even bribed them with donuts if they hurried it along.  In the meantime, I got myself dressed, brushed teeth, washed dishes, straightened the living room, and checked email.  During all of this, I’m gently reminding the little hoodlums of their mission, hoping they choose to accept it.

Then, I began tapping my foot.

Now, I understood, and even embraced the “getting out of the house routine” when my kids were smaller.  Babies obviously can’t be expected to get themselves ready, and then there’s potty training issues of toddlers that adds to the time crunch, but my kids are 8, 6, and 3.  Shouldn’t they be a little more self-sufficient?  I’ll give the 3-year-old a little wiggle room, but the other two?  They can get their booties up and at ‘em without the constant nagging by MOM.  Can’t they?  Are my expectations REALLY that high?  Or should I prepare myself for YEARS of “hurry up, let’s go” echoing on my walls?  Or maybe don’t tell me.  Maybe I don’t want to know, and I should just be pleasantly surprised when it takes less than the 45 minutes it took today to just GET IN THE CAR.

And all we were doing was going to Wal-Mart.  It was such a Simple Plan.