Blogger, mother, dreamer, swimmer, biker, runner, coffee-drinking mistress of silliness… all in exciting Kitsap County!
Whoever said “Silence is golden”…
never knew a 3 year old who was supposed to be taking a nap.
Above: The “Silencers”
Below: Only part of Silent Non-napper’s artistic creation
If one looks closely - one can see little chunkies on those sweet fingers.
“Chunky what?” Nearly an entire jumbo tube of glue stick. Good times…. good times.
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Keep up-to-date on the insane, the insightful, and the whatever…
Olivia cried early this morning, “The Tooth Fairy didn’t come!!!”
That darned tooth had been hanging for weeks. The Tooth Fairy SHOULD NOT have missed her delivery. Plus, Olivia just broke her wrist - the Tooth Fairy should never miss visiting the 6-year-old-girl with lopsided ponytails and a broken wrist.
Joel added from across the hall, “Yeah! Hey MOM! Remember the time the Tooth Fairy forgot to come for FOUR NIGHTS?!!!”
Yeah. She remembers. Maybe the Tooth Fairy should start depositing the cash straight into the kids’ therapy fund.
ferrets. We had 2 ferrets before we had kids - Sport and Molly. Stinky animals - even though they were de-stinked. Anywho… We would find all sorts of treasures in and behind our couches, or tucked into the darkest recesses of our home. We had this one couch that had storage underneath - we’d find magazines and all sorts of surprises.
I wish I had taken pictures of the back of my van today. For a moment I though I may have given birth to a flock barrel litter business of ferrets (Of. Stinkin’. Course. The collective noun for ferrets is - business! Not. Kidding… Why would it be anything else?) I found pairs and part-pairs of shoes, wands, fossilized chicken nuggets, scraps of paper, sippy *blech* cups, crayons, crumbs and more crumbs, jackets, shirts, socks, soccer jersey, used straws, markers, fast food toys, hair clips…. a virtual restaurant, preschool, and clothing store on wheels. Golly, one would think my kids leave the car naked with all the clothes I found stuffed here and there…
And that is why I think children are like ferrets.
The end.
Oh people. People! Why was my mother’s day happy? Well… for starters - if you have been here before you can see the BEAUTIMOUS changes on this here site. My very talented, creatively inspired, staying-up late to tweak and perfect, loving, adoring and cutie-pie husband… redesigned my site!
When I saw it - I tenderly touched my laptop screen, and squeak-whispered, “I luh her…”
of my poor mothering…
We went to the park earlier this week. It was supposed to be in the low 60’s and sunny. That’s a heat wave around here. We dressed for the sun, but I did bring sweaters - just in case - because I am a good Pacific Northwest mom.
Anywho… I was busy swinging higher and better than Olivia (my 6 year old) when Lucy (age 3) went up to another mother across the park and asked, “Can you get me my sweater? I’m cold.”
I saw Lucy talk to the mom (who I later interrogated about her very cool nose piercing). I figured I should see what was up. So I got as much air as possible and did a back flip with a twist off the swing. I spouted “Neener, I’m better than you!” to Olivia. Then I ran off to make sure Lucy’s new mom was able to find that sweater. Kidding.
I dragged my feet and stopped the swing completely - so as not to break my old and fragile back. I told Livi I was proud at her efficient swing-pumping, gave a thumbs up, insisted she didn’t need another Under Dog to get more air, and left to check on Lucy and her new mom. I found out what Lucy needed, retrieved her sweater, and saved my girl from hypothermia. Then I returned to the mom Lucy nearly adopted and asked her all about her cute little nose stud.
And people wonder what I do all day.
Dear Olivia,
That is what I wanted to command you to do on your birthday. I close my eyes. I pray this vision of you on your sixth birthday is seared into the “forever” part of my memory:
You were walking down the Sunday School hallway at church. You and G. were walking shoulder to shoulder. Your pink, sparkly giggles bounced off the walls. Your smiles were as big and as spectacular rainbows. You were giddy… overwhelmed… pleased as punch. You practically hovered above the ground due to the Power of the Awesomeness of Turning 6. You were wearing new birthday gear: a pink headband with girlie-colored polka dots, 2 black-flower-shaped-clips with “diamonds”, both of your new necklaces, a ring, an oversized $5 gold lame’ purse stuffed with your new felt coloring tablet, a swirly 4 color dress, pink flip-flops with sparkles, a missing top-front tooth, AND newly pierced ears. Looking at you would make the Disney corporation green with envy - because, little girl - You. Were. IT. If ever there was “money”, girl, YOU were “money”. I’ll explain later…
I remember looking down… watching you giggle with your friend. I knew I was frantically taking in fleeting precious moments I would never embrace again. I couldn’t breathe in deep enough nor look hard enough to keep your excitement of “Being Six”… frozen in time. As I embraced the flutter of you girls chatting and giggling, you spouted with such ovewhelming spirit,
Neither. Can. I…
Today marks the day of my official re-entry into “training”… today Katie and I tackled our 6 mile run. We ran some hills, but didn’t push it. We finished in a little over an hour… which translates to 10 minute miles, plus a bit. Not fast, but a completed goal… we are both warming back up to the idea of our “long run” mornings. Next week - we’ll cover 7.
Part of the joy of running, for me, is Continue reading ‘The Stomach Ache’
Moms, do you ever find yourself mindlessly filling the role as “Mom”. Let me explain. I find I will answer “no” just because it is “what I do”. I wonder how much of my mothering happens while I am on “autopilot”. I suspect the mom my kids get is more “autopilot” than the super-present “mom” I feel I ought to be. Some of it is born out of survival, and some of it has grown out of habit. Continue reading ‘Room Rules’
Alright. I have been so focused on the 20th anniversary of my 16th birthday - which is only 6 months away… that my husbands special day has somehow slipped through the cracks. Kind of.
Soon (next week), we will head to Seattle for a burger and a beer and then a Mariner’s game… the kids brought him a monster-sized bowl of Reese’s cereal this morning, complimented by a cup of Sprite and a green apple. Yum. I arrived home shortly after (I had to get my work-out on!) and brought him biscuits and gravy from the grocery store. Truth be told, the B & G are really good, and I can’t make gravy, plus all that frying sausage-n-such makes me smell like… um… sausage. Not my best fragrance.
So, baby, happy birthday from your tired wife. Thank you for giving me room to not be on the ball. This day is more important to me than I let on. Where would I be without you? Part of the reason I love you so much is you don’t get all “chick” on me and start whining about “Where’s the romance?…. Where’s the excitement?!”
I guess that’s a really good side-effect of being as old (37) as you are… you don’t sweat the small stuff. Romance - pleh. Excitement - psha. A good night’s sleep…. NOW that’s what’s important to an old (37) guy :)
Look, isn’t he cute - all threatenin’ to NOT fix my computer, but actually he’s fixin’ my computer. He’s funny that way. Old guys (37) are funny that way.
Partay! Partay! Partay!
Hang on… What’s that? What’d you say? Oh. Yeah. Spring break, spring schmake.
I’m a mom… MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM. A Miz-utha in her mid 30’s… with 3 kids… and a minivan… with chocolate milk stains on the carpet… The “new car” smell has been overtaken by the “french fry” smell… The snot of my children’s runny noses is my “bling”… The “sparkle” in my eye is actually glitter from my 5 year olds’ latest art project… I know. I know. It’s overwhelming.
Today was our first day of spring break, and what’d we do? We hit the roller rink, yo! At ONE O’Clock IN THE AFTERNOON - snap! You are telling yourself, “Dude. She. Is. A. Party. Animal. The Roller rink at nap time?! That is hard-core! She is one hard-core Mutha’!” Roaaaaarrrrrr!
I’m sayin’. You don’t even know. But if you DO know… then… You Know… ya know?
So, I think my 5 year old was hit-on by a boy for the first time whilst we wuz rollin’ at the rink. He was prolly a whole 7 years old. Maybe 8.
I have to give the girl props. Olivia can roller blade. The girl has serious skillz. She still hasn’t surpassed the flamin’ hot skillz of her mother… but I better watch my back. There is no way I’m gonna let some “little girl” steal the limelight from me. No. Way. Next time that kid is gonna tell ME IIIIIII am a good skater. I digress… a lot.
So, this cute lil’ fella rolls by my girl and says, “Hey. You’re a really good skater.” She coolly replied, “Thank you.”
It is true. She IS. She was one of the smallest kids there, but her ability towered over her small frame. Really, if ya’ll saw her, you would have pointed and smiled and your jaws might have even become elongated for a time - because she has some serious roller-blading skillz. Serious. Impressive. Dyno-miiiiiiiiiiite.
I was pretty jealous proud. My little girl is growing up. She is showing great athletic potential. She may not be able to walk barefoot without gouging out an eye, but put those feet on wheels and set the wheels on a hard-slick surface and it’s like poetry… with 2 turntables and a microphone! Watching her reminded me of… of… me… on the dance floor. I’m not sure how I feel about this. What about me? What about me????!!!
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