pants

MP had a major victory last night!!
he put his pajama pants on all by himself, like a big boy!
i didn't even have to help him with the normal struggle of getting them over the diaper hump!

now...i just need to speed up the continuous work on my time stopping machine so he'll never get any older.

hmmm...

it's been a while fellow inhabitants of the ether world. my apologies to those of you who check our little blog daily. :(
thanks for being so patient!

(first of all, i am in mourning. my beloved blackberry has ceased from working existence. it's still all together, making up one piece...the pieces just don't work together to create a functioning limb of my body. i will have to replace my bb today. hopefully before dark.)

tuesday's are the knucklehead's early day. we have to leave the house by 6:15 AM so mommy can make it to work on time. this means on monday night, bedtime comes early, too. MP is never really a struggle to get to bed; his sister IS a struggle. the first time i got her in her room all snuggled up in bed, she requested "4-5-6-7 books to read." mommy suggested 2 books-to which she countered with "how about 2-3-4-5 books?" we finally settled on three. i told her i loved her and said goodnight. she stopped me on my way out the door and said, "mommy! you forgot my hugs!"
aah, my heart smiles.
hugs are given, i love you's are spoken and goodnight is lingering in the night air when she stops me again, "mommy! you forgot my sugars!" (i am fairly sure i gave her kisses...the first time) sugars are distributed evenly over her and dimple-faced laughter warms my soul.
"i love you Norah! good night scooby doo!"
she doesn't stop me this time as i walk through the door. this sequence of events will play out again soon...well not exactly the same, but similar. two more times actually.

fast forward. 2 AM.

mommy is in the world of dreamers. suddenly, i hear a little man voice shrieking: "rahksee, rahksee, rahksee!"
i do a quick check-roxee is lying on the floor next to the bed. she couldn't have hurt him.
"rahksee rahksee rahksee!" cry, cry, sob, cry.
i leap to him, cradle him tight and ask what's wrong with my man.
he points his finger at my face, near my nose and his feet are sticking out to the side awkwardly.

eeeewwwwwwwwwwww! it's poop...of the canine variety.

how did this happen? and why is it on his hand? and if it is just on his hand, why is he screaming?
my room is of course dark, so we head to the bathroom for disinfectants.
apparently, roxee had to poop last night and for the FIRST time since she's been living with us-pooped in our room. she didn't ask to go out, as far as i can remember. i'm not having any flashbacks of doggie dreams or scratching at my hand.
ugh.
we begin cleaning his hands off and once they are clean i notice the smell seems to be getting stronger.
"ok man! we got your hands all cleaned up. you alright, now?"
mommy's eyes still aren't awake, and apparently, not even open.
"my fput mama, my fput!"
poor little darling boy. i didn't even look at his feet! that's where the poop was! it was only on his hand cause he tried to clean it up himself, first. poor baby. bless it.
alright. foot is clean. poop is off the floor. we are back in bed-meaning, MP joined mommy and daddy for the rest of sleepy time.
however, since little man saw the light so to speak, he was now not interested in any more sleepy time. he stayed up for about another hour and a half. mommy had to get creative...i tried the threats back to the firetruck bed, tried the singing of nite nite songs, daddy had even given it a go. MP did NOT want to go back to sleep. i ask him if he wants to play a game. of course he does!
so here's how it went:
man, cover up and count to three under the covers.
ok mama. he gets underneath the covers and waits.
we count 1-2-3
i pull the covers back and say 'eep eye!'
we giggle.
alright, do it again man.
he gets in position.
we count 1-2-3
i pull the covers back and say 'eep eye!'
we giggle again.
now, man, can you count to five under the covers?
yeah, m'am.
he gets in position.
i wait a little while before starting to count.
i count 1-2-
he's not counting! did it work?
i peep under the covers-he's out.

aaahhh, good. mommy needs sleep.

uncomfortable

are you ever uncomfortable in your own skin?
blar.
today, i am.
do you ever put something on and then immediately regret it when you leave the house?
today, i did.
i have major anxiety issues and obviously some going on with my self esteem, too. i wore something new today at work. and it looks fine, i guess. but it includes stepping out of my norm, my shell, my comfy that i love so much.

i have on knee high boots.

i have never worn knee high boots with out full length pants. (my mother reminds me that i did wear white go-go boots while performing in college with dance teams but, that is so not the same.) and today i decided (or had a lapse in judgment) that i would wear these knee high boots with a skirt. a shorterish type skirt.
i feel like i look like a kindergarten teacher on crack or something. seriously. in the comfort of my own home, i thought this outfit would work. i mean, how hard could this be, right? i sit at a desk for 8 loooonnnggg hours. but the longer i am forced to remain in public view...the more uncomfortable i become. i get paranoid; as if people can see into my mind, view my thoughts, and silently laugh at what i am thinking.
i know, i know. this is unrealistic.
*sigh*
but it's true. it's how i feel. it's how my day is going.

sometimes, i wish i could get a handle on the whole "i don't care what people think of me and can do whatever i want" thing. cause it doesn't stop at my clothes. i worry about everything and not just the physical. i worry about conversations i haven't even had yet, but may need to be prepared for at a later date. i worry about emails i send that may not have the right tone. i worry about cutting a driver off in traffic and if he'll remember me next time we pass through life on the same road. i wonder...and worry. all the time.

the other night, i had a strange revelation. i had a visitor that night. and my visitor had a phone call. my visitor in MY house-told me not to say anything while they were on the phone. for what? that's total crap. you have to hide the fact that you are at my house? i have to be quiet so you can what, 'safely' have this conversation? what would happen if i decided to yell out or heck, say, anything? how would that adversely affect the conversation you are having? ugh!
i could have screamed. but instead i just told the visitor that i thought it was absolute BS that i had to shut my mouth while they were on the phone AT MY HOUSE. and then it got uncomfortable. the living room seemed smaller. the couches were scooting closer together, quickly. and my revelation was-why do we change ourselves for the benefit of other people? why are there so many versions of ourselves?

i'm working on me. i am a work in progress. i tell myself these things everyday. i want an identity of my own. i don't want to just be his wife, her mom, or his mom. i want to be me. but i don't really know who that is.
i know who i pretend to be at work.
i know who i pretend to be when i'm out and about.
i know who i pretend to be around certain 'friends.'
i have all of these versions of me.
when really... all i want is one version.
to be the same, everyday.
to be normal-whatever the hell that may be.

and i get it. i get that we all have bad days, off days, happy days, sad days, and all the other days in between. but, isn't there anyone out there who really knows who they are?

surely they must exist.

i plan on being one.
cause i'm a work in progress.
and i am sick of being uncomfortable.

question

my daughter's conversation of the day:

n: Mommy, can i have a sister? I really want a sister"
me: baabbyyy, i think lizzie doll is the perfect sister for you! (lizzie doll is her favorite...she talks)
n: yeah, but lizzie doll doesn't have good conversation.

all i could do is laugh!

growing pains

i love my dog.
i really do.
i love my husband.
i really do.
really, i do.
promise.

my husband decided to let roxee out yesterday morning when he left so she could play in the backyard while the kids and i got dressed. how sweet! i didn't even have to ask! :)

IT RAINED! OH, HOW IT RAINED!

i guess that didn't cross his mind as he left. ugh. i didn't realize it had rained either...until i let my roxee in the house. she was prancing through Norie's room, spinning through the hallway, chasing MP to the living room and rolling around on the carpet throughout. and i was looking for her collar. where is her collar?!

oh. ha.

it's on her. the flourescent hot pink collar was now black. from mud. and goo. and nasty. it was black. roxee was covered in filth. she was devising an exit strategy from the back yard apparently.
the time is now 7:05 AM. i MUST leave the house by 7:20 AM to be on time at work. the kids and i are in our pajamas. and i now have dirty carpet and a dirty dog and dirty specks of mud every where. operation cleansofast begins now.
roxee in the tub.
roxee cleaned off (almost).
kids playing in mommy's bathroom while she cleans roxee.
roxee out of the tub.
MP touches roxee as she passes by now sans dirt.
MP laughs.
roxee comes back in the bathroom to shake off.
roxee has strange finger streaks of white on her newly washed coat.
MP laughs harder and rubs his hands together.
MP hands me a tube of kid sunscreen.
sunscreen all over MP's hands.
great.
sunscreen is the strange finger streaks of white on roxee.
ugh...
wash MP's hands.
rinse myself off.
dress self.
comb kid hair.
did i brush my teeth?
brush teeth.
thank goodness it's pajama day at Ms. T's!

7:22 AM
we're out the door.
i forgot something.
i just know it!
what is it?
i dunno.
guess i'll find out later.
oh.
it was my very important tax document i needed to mail.
good thing i'm filing early!

we made it out alive.
and in record time!
that's all that matters.
sigh. inhale. exhale.
what a morning!

in other news...my MP is growing up. sunday morning, he woke up, went straight to the bathroom and took his diaper off. he sat down on his potty. and tried. he really really tried!
my husband was sweet enough to let me sleep in so i didn't get to witness this big boy moment. :(
however, he did run around sans diaper for almost 2 whole hours and didn't have an accident! he's ready for potty training! my sweet little baby isn't so much a baby anymore. (sadness overcomes me)
the other side of this sadness coin lies a very lucrative offer...no more DIAPERS to buy! well, not immediately, but soon...i hope.
my big man even sat on the potty last night before bathtime and sprinkled a little in there! we were so proud! a little sprinkle of victory! (ha, that cracks me up!) now...if we can just get him to understand that when/if he runs around naked that roxee thinks his um, you know, man part, is something to bite and that it would be painful if she acted on this impulse that she has already tried out but missed once. cause right now, he thinks it's a rite of passage to let it all hang out. he'll learn. hopefully not painfully, but he will learn.

and that my friends in a nutshell is the last three blog drafts rolled all into one. i may have to do some editing later...but for now, you got your fix. ;)

prayers

well good morning dolls! it is quite the early morning for me. work at 5AM should be banned from my eternity. on the flip side though, getting off before 2PM is pretty much gonna rock. although, it would be nice to be an heiress...mom and dad there is still time for y'all to build an empire and devote all the money to your 3 girls! you could totally pull that off!

alright, enough chatty cathy. i wanted to follow up on yesterday's post. me and my girl have kissed and made up. it actually happened that night; albeit i still didn't feel good about the day's events that horrifically unfolded earlier, hence boo hoo was born. anyways, while putting her to bed she asked to say our prayer. it's usually the same one every night:

"Dear God, Thank you for my family. Thank you for my friends. I love you very much. Amen."

I'm not sure where it came from, but that's pretty much the nite-nite prayer script at our house. my creative genius of a daughter thought our prayer needed to include a few more items that night:
1. mama, please pray for my drum that daddy threw in the fire. i need a new one. (this 'drum' was an empty cardboard box that didn't know how to be shared)
2. mama, please pray for my dance class. i need to go back now.
3. mama, please pray for God to make shrimp seeds so we can grow them in our vegetable garden. i need them to make me grow bigger.
wow! i had to hold back the laughter. but the prayer felt a little more honest once we got in all those requests. bless it! she's a good one, that girl.

on the MP front, well, he's been fairly mellow lately. 'reading' his books, playing with his roxeegirl (she and he-in love those two-roxee is most definitely MP's girl), coloring LOTS of pictures and generally being adorable. ganma did tell me a delightful story about my children's sibling love yesterday. so, from what i understand, ganma, Norie and MP were sitting on the couch and each had a book to read. Norie decides MP doesn't need to hold the book he has because of some reason or another. so she swipes it. MP was NOT happy with his sissy's choice of movements and pulls one out of his own. (ganma says MP figured he couldn't reach sissy so he had to get creative) he SPIT at her-venomous spit! as if to say, 'if i could have spit directly into your eyeball, i would've. i hope it stings, sissy.'
bwahhahahhhahaaa! good thing i wasn't there. i'm quite certain my giggle box would have turned over for an extended time frame that could be deemed inappropriate. ganma, of course, told him 'Man Man! No! We don't spit. That's not nice.' he responded with a cold shoulder and staring fiercely off into the far corners of the room. i sooo wish you could all see his 'i'm not paying attention to you and i could injure you with these eyes' face. it's a classic. i love that boy. he's coming into his own...quickly. *squeal* which reminds me, he has a birthday coming up! 'tis all for now my friends, i gotta get my snake man's party planned.

boo hoo

first off, sorry for the delay in posts. these past few days have been rough for me. secondly, this may be too personal of a post. but i need to vent. i really need to vent.

do you ever feel like you suck at something...as if you just can't grasp the concept of exactly what it is that you're trying to achieve?
i do. there are a lot of things for me that make me feel this way, right now, it's being a mom. i have been feeling defeated A LOT. i'm terrible at this whole mediocre-mommidom, even worse at normal-mommidom and the worst at super-mommidom. i see all of these other mommies and they rock at this. they are patient, creative, pleasant, never complain and don't yell-EVER.

we were at the grocery store yesterday. my sweet babies were riding in the red 'racecar cart' (their favorite) and were doing fine. then, MP didn't want to share his monkey with his sissy. they fight. they hit. they yell. everyone is staring. i quietly try to intervene, explain the importance of sharing and let them know we won't be here much longer. it works, for about 7 seconds. they start again. pushing. squealing. fighting. i try a different approach.
if you can't be sweet and share the monkey then mommy will hold it until we're back in the car. all hell breaks loose. to them, this is not acceptable behavior for mommy. finally, we're finished shopping. FINALLY. (but not before the entire store knows that i am a horrible excuse for a human being and moreover, a mommy because my children are throwing mini-tantrums in public and i have not done enough to hedge these reckless acts of rebellion.)

Norah screams at me the entire way home. pounding me with insults and ear piercing sounds that beat on my self esteem. how does a 3 year old effect your self esteem? i know she is just a baby. lashing out because something didn't go her way. my head knows this, but my heart...my heart aches. she is instructed to go directly to her room when we arrive home because this behavior will not be tolerated.

she slams the door, teenage style, with rage in her heart. after a few minutes, i check on her and ask if she's ready to come out.
NO! she screams. i don't want you. i don't like you. i do NOT want your company! i do not want to live in this house. i want to live with grandma. get out!
My reply is meek, i am sorry you feel this way. once you calm yourself down, we'd be happy to see you. i quietly shut the door. she begins screaming-this noise. it seems so foreign coming out of such a precious baby. and it sounds so...real. like she is truly feeling this madness that escapes from her tiny mouth into primal sound. i'm angry at her. my heart hurts.

several more minutes pass by. i check on her once more. she's playing in her room and doesn't notice me walk in. i sit down on the bed. she lashes out at me...again. i think to myself; i will NOT allow a 3 year old run my house; i can't stand this! i yell at her. i tell her she is being selfish. i tell her to straighten up. quit that crying or mommy will really give you something to cry about. you have everything little girl! stop acting this way!
she's crying. she's hurt.
i'm crying. i'm hurt.
i slam the door.
why?!
why would i do that? she doesn't deserve this. she deserves better than me. more than i have been giving her. her reactions and actions are a direct result of the examples put forth by her adult guardians. me. she's acting like me.

whoa, i need to take a minute. a minute alone. i head to the bathroom. MP is pacified by daddy right now. it's the perfect time for a breath. i stare at myself in the mirror. i look crazy. i feel crazy. my eyes are riddled with-with what? i can't transmit the wild-eyed look into a word or emotion. i cry. a sob shakes my body. i feel weak-weak minded.
get it together, i tell myself. NOW.

sometimes, i am exhausted by my children. i think they think i am a joke. they don't listen to me. they don't follow my directions. they don't they don't they don't...
have i not taught them how to correctly behave?
have i not loved them enough?
have i not been a good enough example?
in my mind, the answers to all of these questions are NO. you have not taught them enough. you have not loved them enough. you have been a terrible and measly excuse for an example because unfortunately…this scene is not new. it’s happened before. and that sucks. it sucks bad.

i don't want your pity.
i want a new slate.
i want to start over.
i want. i want. i want.
i'm selfish.

my children and i-we'll be fine. mommy just needs to take a few more minutes in the mirror...looking…searching...analyzing...defining...who I am.
because my little sponges don't need to soak up anymore of this negativity.
my little sponges, need me.
and i need my little sponges.
together, we will make a better woman. a better mom. a better wife. a better friend. a better life.
together... this will be the last scene of it’s kind.