An Adventure in the Fall

Yesterday was a typical fall day in our house.

We had a football game to get our cheerleader to at 8:30am.

Then raced home.

Made a nutritious lunch of top ramen (blech!) and packed up daddy for his big cross country adventure in concrete.

Then divided up and carpooled with fantastic new neighbors who happen to have a cheerleader and football player that line up perfectly with our cheerleader and football player.

So we girls headed off to cheer game number two, with a little boy with a wiggly tooth in tow, dropped of the cheerleaders, then Mr. Wiggly-Tooth at a friend's house to hitch a ride to one of his best little buddy's birthday party.

Then back to watch the cute little girls cheer their hearts out on a sunny fall day.

Next we packed it up and zipped out to the middle of nowhere (aka Yelm) to watch the boys play football.

Then race back to Lacey to pick up the newly front toothless little boy from the birthday party.

Yep, he lost his tooth in the pool and couldn't find it.

But don't worry, he dictated a note to the tooth fairy explaining the circumstances.

Off to grandma's to a delicious steak dinner with aunty and cousins.

My kids never get steak, so they gobbled up that big old platter of meat in no time.  

Then asked for more "chicken" please.  

Poor kids, never get anything good.

I even heard my daughter say, "It's nice to not have noodles or pizza for dinner."

Ouch.

I need to put that crock pot to use more on these crazy football days.

I just have to find recipes the kids will like, and actually eat...

Mission impossible, I know.

After dinner I ran to the pharmacy to get ambien for that big cross country trip while daddy oversaw bath time.

Then loaded the kids up to take daddy to the airport, all fresh and clean in their pjs, watching Herbie movies on the way.

Charlie started the waterworks first.

Actually, Sarina had been turning them off and on all day leading up to the departure.

But Charlie really wailed, "don't go don't go, don't GO daddy!"  

Over and over- and over again.

It was a little like torture.

6 days is forever in their little minds.

By the time we got to the airport they were all crying.  

Charlie pouring his heart into his wailing, 

Carl sitting their quietly with tears streaming down his face, 

Sarina trying to hold it together alternating with wallowing in her sorrow, 

and Elsa just trying to keep up.

Quite a send off for a poor guy just trying to head out to learn from the best in the industry so that he can come home and grow a thriving business- for the family.

I know both mama and daddy had a lump in our throats too.

As I pulled away I was kind of wondering if someone told the kids that daddy was being deployed to war...

But truly, I'm so proud of my husband.

He's researched, and researched, and researched to find the best person to learn from.

Yes, he could do trial and error while he starts doing these concrete counter tops.

That's what he's done so far, but we both know that's not quick enough for us.

He wants to make sure that if people are paying him for a product, that he provides the best he can possibly provide.

I know he's going to do well.

He has that perfect combination of self confidence, pride in his work, and connections to make this successful.

I believe wholeheartedly in him.

Plus he has a fantastic support system and two jobs lined up for when he gets home with the promise of another.

We have a good life, there's no doubt how very blessed we are.

Snuggle Spot

For as long as I've snuggled my husband, it's always been his head on my chest.

We've watched many movies cuddled up like that.

With my babies, it's been the same.

Their sweet little heads on my chest.

Elsa recently named that spot.

The snuggle spot.

Our second grader has been the most prolific visitor to the snuggle spot, with his blankey.

He may have even logged as many hours there as his daddy.

He said he likes to listen to my heart.

I wonder if he hears it telling him how very full he makes that heart.

The other night (actually the night before I forgot what grade he is in),

he was snuggled in his snuggle spot (he uses that term now too)

and whispered in his sweet little boy voice,

"Mama, why does my heart feel funny when I snuggle you?"

Man I love that kid.

Of course I love them all.

It's that purity in their voices and clarity in their observations that makes my heart skip a beat and makes me catch my breath.

Every time.

Do You Pee Your Pants?

So, my friend has convinced me to consider taking a big step.

Like many mama's I hear about, I cross my legs to sneeze,

and when I suddenly cough,

oh and laugh really hard.

I put in a pad when I run (sorry brother TMI?).

I have visions of peeing myself in public- in a way I can't hide.

Not to mention, it would be nice to be dry when I'm done with a good run.

So, I'm considering the sling surgery.

The Dr. I visited described it as using a mesh that's been used in hernia surgeries for 30 (or was it 50) years.  It was tough to tell, she has a bit of an accent.

She said the mesh is like velcro and instantly supports what needs supporting in there so I don't accidentally piss my pants.

Like you would do that on purpose...

To do it or not.

The surgery (not peeing on purpose)-

that is the question.

If I died from complications, would I be considered vain for having the surgery- just so I wouldn't have that shame of peeing my pants when I laugh really really hard?

True story- that did happen, at a friend's surprise birthday party at the country club.

I was pregnant (with the child who I recently forgot what grade he was in) and it was tough to tie a sweater around my massive belly to hide my super wet pants.

Gross.

It's not like I'm having a boob job.

And I have always had a hard time holding it when I laugh really really hard.

But I'm seriously considering it.

And you bet your buns I'm nervous about it.

Um, Hold on... It's Right on The Tip of My Tongue

Do you ever get asked a question and completely blank on the answer?

Sure, I know things like- who was the 12th US president,

or what is the square root of pi- most people would blank out on those.

I'm talking simple questions,

like the name of someone you've known for 3 years and seen 4 times a week.

Or how about how much each of your children weighed at birth?

Even if it's the sweetest person in the world and there's no pressure.

Like today, at my daughter's quality work assembly and someone asked me what grade my second child was in.

Uh.

Uh.

Hold on.

Nope,

Nothing.

Nothing there.

Completely blank.

Couldn't even conjure up who his teacher was last year.

I did find the name of his teacher this year.

Phew, quick deductions and sweetie pie who asked the innocent question helped me to figure out my baby boy is in the SECOND grade.

Dear Lord I hope that one sticks.

I don't know if I could take a repeat performance.

It caused flashbacks to Still Alice.

Ugh.

Now, if I wander into your kitchen and dismantle it looking for my favorite tea cup- make an appointment for me.

Please.

Jeez.

Who can't figure out what grade her own kid is in?!

Only this crazy mama in the country.


Clearly I was wrong on Monday when the doctor I visited asked me about my stress level.

I actually considered saying low.

I was all the way up in Issaquah, cozy in a Russian/Swedish bubble after a peaceful drive all by myself.  I bumped it up to moderate when I reflected on my busy, hectic life.

Maybe I should revisit that answer.

Think it would make a difference on the Dr.'s conclusion that I'm a good candidate for the sling surgery to keep me from peeing my pants?

More on that next time.

School Bus Drama

Today I was alarmed to look up and see Carl sobbing as he walked down the driveway after getting off the school bus.

You know when they cry so hard they can't tell you what's wrong, so your mind races to the worst possible scenario?

Which, to him- it was.

I believe he thought he was going to die.

And for my kids I think that the concept isn't far fetched.

They can all recount the summer we lost our sweet little friend.

It has made them realize that kids can go to heaven too.

They know about mortality.

And it's such a tough thing to talk them through.

So, on the way home today- while on the school bus, Carl sat with a boy from his football team.

The kid was going on about pressure points and demonstrating on Carl.

He rubbed a muscle on Carl's back then stopped and said (according to Carl with a very serious look on his face),

"Oh I forgot, if I do that it means you'll die in 3 days."

Carl said he started crying on the bus.

He was that scared.

He believed it.

In his mind, the poor little boy thought he was dead man walking as he climbed down from the school bus.

I can only imagine what was going on in his head as he was trying to figure it all out. 

How it would happen.

He was terrified.

I assured him it was all b.s. (not saying that, of course) but that it would never happen.

I don't think he completely bought it,

because at bed time he asked again if I was sure he wasn't going to die.

I explained that when I get massages my friend Michelle rubs my back like that and I'm ok.

I know that the boy who pulled that trick didn't know Carl well enough to know what he's seen in his life, so far.

I know Carl's haunted by images of his parents sobbing without restraint in front of him.

And the kid has two teenage brothers who've likely scared the shit out of him time and time again so he's immune to that level of terror.

It's a life lesson.

But it's a tough one for both mama and sweet boy.

I hope I don't see any more babies sobbing their way off the school bus again anytime soon.

End of Summer and Back To School

We're now in week 3 since school started.

And yes, it's taken me this long to feel like myself again.

Finally, they're all occupied by something other than driving me NUTS!

It was a great summer.

And I'm incredibly grateful for Ken Lake.

We'd be home, the kids would fight and argue over something stupid.

It would escalate-

and feel like no one likes anyone in this house.

Then I'd pack everyone up and escape to the lake.

It was blissful.

They'd play together.

Encourage each other.

Work together.

And I could sit in the sunshine, drink my coffee, leaf through magazines and read books with pleasant children noises in the background.

Perfection.

There was a big mouth bass lurking under the dock that kept the boys occupied for many many hours.

I hope he's still around next summer too.

He brought all kinds of people together- big teenage boys, little boys, middle size boys, and more than one adult- all trying to figure out how to get him.

He'd pop out every now and then to let them know he was still there.

He'd delight the crowd by snatching one of the little fishes swimming nearby and eating it whole.

The kids also caught many little fishes, took them for rides down the slide, watched them swim in the ever present bucket.

I'll post pictures when I can use my email again.

They also ended the season by catching a poor little salamander. 

When they finally let the poor guy go, he was so confused he just kept swimming in circles.

I hope he straightened out eventually...

So this is a big year.

Three kids at Griffin and our final year of pre-school.

Big time.

This was Charlie's first day of Kindergarten, first day riding the school bus.

I like to think of this as the kid realizing summer's over.

Silly geese.

First day of second and fifth grade.

Big boy in Kindergarten.

This picture looks sweet, and that's what I was hoping for, but just before I took it Sarina said, "Mom I don't want to kiss her.  Her breath STINKS."  At least she whispered it.  Can you see her holding her breath while sweet baby sister is all in?

I'll admit, I had to take a sniff myself, and it was a bit sour.

I'll never forget feeling like the school bus was a big yellow monster gobbling up my baby the first time it stopped at our driveway.  And I feel that way each time one more hops on there.

He's still adjusting to a new school.

One without his buddies from pre-school.

He was so lucky to have so many boys he loved in his pre-school class.

Tonight he cried because he was telling me that when Peter's mom walks Peter into their classroom Peter cries and it makes Charlie miss me.

It broke my heart.

How do you tell him it's ok?

When he's used to being by my side more often than not?

That I'm always close by for a hug and kiss if something goes wrong or he needs a little comfort.

This is why we start with half time kindergarten. 

To ease into life away from home.

I told him that it sure sounded like Peter needed a friend, and I know that Charlie would be a great friend.  I suggested that he walk up to him and tell him it will be ok and that they can play together at recess to give him something to look forward to.

Now I just hope that Peter is as sweet as he sounds after pushing my kid toward him...

And let us not forget the last but not the least.

Far from the least.

She's all dolled up for her first day of school, wearing her big brother's baseball hat.

I'm a little sad that her best buddy isn't there this year, makes it feel a little less exciting to drop her off.  But I know it's good for her to branch out.

It's a new year, with old and new friends and I know it's going to be a great one.

For starters, I don't have to drive into town 5 days a week. 

Two years of that was enough.

I can't believe that this is our 9th pre-school class at Gloria Dei. 

They do grow up fast.

Head Above Water, Youth Football Season

Pssst...

Want to know yet another secret?

When I'm feeling overwhelmed, I don't blog.

As you can see, I've been overwhelmed lately.

That, plus my computer is on its last leg.

First it wouldn't let us use google (which includes blogger.com).

Now it won't let me into my email.

Do you know how hard it is to email essential professional documents without a computer?!

It's a little tough.

But I prevailed.

I got around the damn computer and it's bias against yahoo.com and used Mark's gmail account.

So take that temperamental techno monster!

Can't live with them, can't live without those darn computers.

Now, back to the overwhelming-ness of my life.

Do I complain too much?

Truly, just documenting the insanity.

We're knee deep into football season around here.

Sarina is cheering and Carl's playing for TCYFL (Thurston County Youth Football League).

Tackle football.

With pads.

And tackling.

And little boys playing quarterback.

(Yahoo!!  That's MY boy!)

It's actually an impressive organization with thousands of kids participating.

It started with three practices a week, all in full gear.

Now he's pared down to two practices a week from 5:30-7:30pm, but Sarina still has three.

Did you know I pride myself on having dinner on the table at 5:30pm sharp?

This football has sure thrown a wrench in that peaceful (ha!) family routine.

Really, the main reason for dinner at 5:30pm is so we can get the kids in bed on time...

Sarina is rocking the cheerleading.  I'm so proud of how quickly she's catching on and nailing her cheers and stunts.

She even gets to be the fly girl. 

So much pride.

It's a grueling schedule, two kids going to two different places at the same time on all but one evening a week.

Then Carl plays one game a Saturday while Sarina cheers for two games a Saturday.

And dragging around the little ones.

Then I try to walk (sometimes even run) the track during practice.

I would fall sleep in two seconds in the grass if I sat there for 2 straight hours watching.

But all the driving, and meal planning, and orchestrating is so very worth it when you see your baby boy throw a pass that ends in a touch down.

When they're all gathered in a huddle and you hear his voice calling the play.

SO MUCH PRIDE.

There's nothing like seeing your last name on the back of your child's jersey.

Then to look down and see your almost mini-me wearing a cardinal and gold cheer uniform, cute big white bow in her hair.

I'm so VERY VERY lucky!

It makes all the insanity swirling around us worthwhile.

I want to stop time and stare at my babies out there.

Growing up.

Doing things I remember doing.

I can be sappy now about them.

They've been in bed for a couple of hours, so I'm feeling lovey.

If I'd written this a few hours ago I would be a little less lovey.

I guess it's a little like childbirth. 

The memory of the nastiness dulls with time.

At the end of the day, some sort of magical spell settles in, and sprinkles love dust to help remind me what precious little treasures they are.

Even when they're smelly, back talking little boogers.

Come nightfall,

when they're snuggled in bed,

I know how very much I love those little rascals.