raising children

Who Has Time to Blog?

So as many of you know I spent the last week and a half on vacation. As the quasi-organised person I am, I set the blog on autopilot, scheduling posts I wrote ahead of time and even filling in a few during the trip. The truth is I love my blog. It’s my getaway, my connection to the outside world, and my sense of professionalism. We had a great time on our spring break, and in reflection on the way home it seemed to provide an endless amount of inspiration with all of the things I could share! Then reality set in.

Of course we held the mail while we were away, so it came to no surprise that upon delivery it would be a bundle. What I didn’t expect was a bill from a collection agency regarding an unpaid balance from my 2014 baby delivery! What in the world? We settled everything already a year ago (so I thought). Ok, fine. Don’t stress about it, I’ll have Owen call in the morning. Moving on.

I was unpacking our suit cases upstairs while my daughter played with the baby in his room, when I heard her scream. “There’s an ant!” My three year old bravely went to get me a tissue to dispose of the ant, while I checked for any more. And yes, there was another crawling up the diaper genie. Ugh! We paid (what I considered to be) a small fortune for an extermination company to get rid of the carpenter ants last fall! Oh please, don’t let this be happening again.

Naturally there tends to be a lot of laundry when a family travels, but not for us. We are the fortunate ones who get to visit my in-laws during our stay. They generously offer their home, including appliances, so we don’t have to pack-up dirty belongings. So where in the world did all of these soiled clothes, blankets, etc. come from? I’d like to know.

I knew there would be no groceries at home, because we were responsible people and used up what we had before we left. So, obviously it made sense to stop and pick up bread for Isaiah’s school lunches on the way to our house. Why didn’t I think of anything to make for dinner? Or milk? Who goes to the grocery store and doesn’t pick up milk? So I trekked my way out this morning to make a dash for the grocery store with three kids 5 and under, after a stop at the bank. In route my baby fell asleep in the car, and you know what? I just didn’t feel like doing it. So through the drive-thru I went and back home.

And you know how I like to deal with all of this stress? Well the washing machine is running and I’ve already called the exterminator. The kids are fed. So I’m going to pretend it’s not happening. Instead, we are going to purpose-lessly decorate eyeglass rims and dress up like Batman, until it’s time to get ready to celebrate my nephew’s birthday. The end.

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A Day in the Life

Owen had left for work. Breakfast had been made, and put away. My oldest son was dressed, groomed and sent to school. Diapers had been changed. The little ones were settled in front of Disney Junior. It was a good time to steal a moment for myself.

“What is that?” I asked myself, staring into the bathroom sink. All I could see against the peach porcelain bowl was little flecks of white and brown. “Is that toilet paper? Oh my gosh, is that poop?” My four year old daughter had been the last one to use the bathroom. “Naomi, come here!” I yelled across the house. “Naomi, did you put your poopy toilet paper in the sink?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I was trying to rinse it off.”

“Why?” I asked again.

“I don’t have an answer for that.” she said. That’s her new go-to line.

“Okay, we don’t put our dirty toilet paper in the sink. It’s very yucky. After we are done, we flush it all down the toilet… Let’s get you cleaned up.” I took her to the kitchen sink to wash her up. After I felt she was sanitized, I headed back to the sanctioned off bathroom. As I was cleaning up the sink (with slight disgust mind you), I found myself in the rare position of thanking God that I actually saw the poop-stained shreds of toilet paper. At least I knew that I needed to disinfect the bathroom, and scrub Naomi. Then I had the terrifying thought of “what happens that I don’t know about?” …which I quickly dismissed… Because there are some things I’m better off not dwelling on.

Not in the too long future, I was attempting to give my three year old a dose of antibiotic medicine. He and my husband had recently taken a week-night trip to urgent care. Mostly because my husband had been miserable with what turned out to be a pretty severe sinus infection. My son, wasn’t in as bad shape so the prescription wasn’t necessary at the time, just a back-up in case his condition worsened. We had been giving him saline solution drops in his nose, and some cough medicine before bed. But now his mucus was darkening. Just to let you know Elijah, my three year old, has an uncanny self-imposed gag reflex. He can actually get himself to puking before he has ever even taken a bite of something he thinks is going to taste gross. The remedy to this usually is to have a drink of water on stand-by and have him well prepped ahead of time.

“It doesn’t taste bad. Stop that. You have water right here. It’s going to be fine. It’s going to make you feel better. Stop doing that. You haven’t even tasted it yet. It might taste good!” Medicine attempt failed. Puke everywhere. After a brief pause of disbelief, I say “That’s it. Everyone upstairs! I’m throwing you all in the tub!”

“Mom, you can’t th-wo kids.” he said.

“You’re right Elijah. I didn’t mean I was going to really throw you. I just mean I’m giving you all a bath.” The baby too, all three of them. Just on principle.

And it wasn’t even lunch time yet.