Dreaming What Ifs...

We Survived.....

My week went something like this:

Monday Morning:  8 year old Buttercup complained of a stomach ache.  I heard a bug was being passed around the school, so I kept  her home.  By noon, she was running around crazy.  I should have sent her to school. 

Tuesday Morning:  3 year old Caboose complained of a stomach ache.  I was not going to be fooled again.  Thirty minutes into preschool, I received a call.  He puked all over the coloring table.  (by noon - he was running around crazy feeling fine).

Wednesday Afternoon:  3 year old Caboose did a Face Plant on the wood floor.  I spent the rest of the day in Urgent Care and just plain worrying about him.

Thursday Morning: A dentist trip relieved my mind - nothing too serious with the Face Plant.  His permanent teeth appear to be fine.  However, his other baby tooth will probably turn dark. 

Friday Night: The Caboose woke up crying.  His bed, pillow, and other items were covered in puke.

Saturday Morning:  Spent the day running errands, selling Girl Scout Cookies, freaking out because I didn't have enough Thin Mints.  Came home to kids with diahrrea.

Sunday Morning:  More diahrrea

Sunday Afternoon:  The Caboose has an outbreak of hives. 

Monday Morning:  All seems clear.  No hives, no sickies.  I think I'm home free so make a trip to IKEA with my sister-in-law (it's only my 2nd trip there EVER).

Monday Afternoon:  My mother-in-law calls to say The Caboose is covered in hives again.  She doses him up with more Benadryl - doubling the dose I had given him before.  I come home to a spotty, but sleepy kid.

Tuesday Morning:  All clear again - no hives, no diarrhea, no puking, no more missing teeth.  I think we survived, barely.

Face Plant

He ran from the living room to the family room, tripped on his own two feet (we think), and face-planted into the hardwood floors.  We're looking at the next 3-4 years of this:

Yes, we rushed him to Urgent Care.  He sees the dentist tomorrow to evaluate the other baby teeth and to check on those developing permanent teeth.  The tooth came out - root and all.  My poor little baby.

Reason #47 Why Moms Lose Their Mind: Miscommunication Skills

Sunday morning I decided to start laundry since every hamper was bulging over with dirty clothes.  My children have been sorting their own laundry for several years now.  They are old enough to know their colors and can decide for themselves if socks are white or black.

I informed my 10 year old first.  "Jammin', sort your laundry.  I've made piles in my bedroom."

A few minutes later, I walked into my bedroom to see a startling sight.  Jammin' was grabbing the freshly folded clean clothes, sorted on my bed, and dropping them onto the dirty clothes piles on the floor.  His hamper was nowhere in sight.

"What are you doing?"  I asked.

"Sorting your laundry,"  He said, "like you asked me to."

"Um....no.  I said to sort YOUR laundry."

"No."  He retorted.  "You told me to sort YOUR laundry.  You said there were piles on the bed."

I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or just pull my hair out.

A Whole Lotta Cookies

For some reason, I volunteered to serve as Cookie Chair for my daughter's Girl Scout troop. When I drove to the pick-up spot, I stuffed 119 cases of cookies in my car.  That is a lot of Thin Mints.

It was a stretch to fit 1428 boxes of cookies into my minivan.  My 3 year old, Caboose, was literally wedged in on all sides.  The passenger seatbelt alarm activated because the cookies weighed as much as an adult.

I couldn't see out my back window, use the rearview window, OR check my blind spots.  Thus, I drove a little slower and managed to never change a lane.  I pissed a lot of people off while driving home.

I could only lift three boxes at a time, so it took 40 trips to unload the van to my living room.  I tried to convince The Caboose to help me, but he said the boxes were too heavy.  Finally, I bribed him with cookies.  Enticed, he staggered into the house with a small load. 

When he wanted more cookies for his work, I told him a story about a boy who ate too many cookies and blew up like a balloon and floated away.  He laughed.

Then, I sorted cookies into twelve piles; Eleven girls had pre-orders and the tweflth pile is for up-coming booth sales.

Afterwards, Buttercup and I recounted the piles to make sure everyone had the correct number of cookies and types.  I cross-checked the left-overs and was shocked to discover I had two extra Samoas.  I left them off to the side.  Whoever I short-changed will let me know.

Finally, I sat down on the couch and breathed in, hoping to smell cookies.  But the only odor is stale cardboard.  So, I just sighed with relief that it was finished...

Until next week when I make another order and do the whole process again.   

Rock on, Caboose

A few nights ago, my husband streamed Pandora to the television while we were eating dinner.  He chose a Rock genre music station.  Between bites of Stir-fry, Dave and I sang along with some old 70's and 80's hits. 

When Queen's We will Rock You came on, we might have been a little over enthusiastic, jumping out of our chairs to belt out the words.  None of our kids seemed that impressed.

So it came as a surprise today when I heard my daughter, Buttercup, singing Queen.  As I listened closer, I realized she sang the right tune, but was adding her own words.  My oldest, Jammin', sang along with her. 

It was my three year old who forced them to stop.  "You are not singing the wight wods."  He cried.  "It goes wike dis....We Will, We Will, WOCK YOU."

Oh yea little man.  Rock on.

 

I'm a Feminist and Lego is not.

And I've been sucked into Lego's marketing.  Did I buy my daughter any Legos when she wanted some?  No.  Does she play Lego's with her brothers?  Yes.   Why didn't I?  Because Legos are marketed to boys.  With that said - I'm gonig to go buy her the Harry Potter set like she wanted. 

It's ten minutes long - but worth the watch.