Oh, what a day...

Hope everyone had a great Christmas! Ours started around 8:00 a.m., which is pretty late for us. The kids stayed up later than usual so they were fine with sleeping in.
Stockings, masses of presents, overfull tummies... family. All my peeps in one place. One busy, noisy, warm place. Little girl screams of delight (four sets of them) at whatever the package contained. A rare nap with my littlest girls. Hugs. Pajamas ALL DAY.
Sigh. What a great day.
Pictures to come soon.

Things I love

A little variation on Thankfulness.

Little girl fingers wrapped around mine. Better yet, little girl arms wrapped around me.

The way Mike smells. It isn't just me, either. Many have testified to this fact, and no, he doesn't wear cologne.

Warm, fuzzy, baby kittens.

The way Hannah and Ryley just organized their closet - all their hanging clothes are grouped by color. I swear they didn't get that from me.

Sunny days.

My bed.

Fuzzy socks. Jeans days.

The way Abby pats me on the arm when I lay down with her. The fact that she has gone multiple nights in a row with big girl panties on without wetting her bed. The resulting decrease in sheets to wash.

The way clean laundry smells.

Bacon-wrapped chicken. Cheese dip. Hershey's bliss chocolate.

These faces.

Lemon Starburst. Unsweet Tea. Sonic ice.
Life.

Random

Hey... just sitting home with Abby today - she's got a yucky cough. She's blissfully in the land of "only child" and "unlimited TV time" right now. I decided that I'd whined enough for a while and today I'd rather focus my efforts on funny stuff. Well, at least I think it's funny.

I think I mentioned in an earlier blog that we got kittens back around Halloween. They're awfully cute but awfully energetic... particularly in the wee hours of the night. They've recently discovered how to defy gravity and run sideways across our headboard (it's fabric). Quite amazing really, and also very noisy - claws make a popping sound when they grab and release fabric. Consequently, they've also been...ahem... "taught" to fly. I'm sorta kidding. The conscience and good judgment are not so prominent in the throes of sleep.

Abby asked for some cranberry juice this morning. It was left over from last Saturday's mini-party with our friends. I'm positive she doesn't like it, it's very sour, but she's also very "sour" when you tell her no. For the record, I suggested she taste it before we fill her cup completely up. Her reply was "I appreciate that taste." (what? Hello! almost four-year-old) She still thought she needed a whole glassful. Approximately 30 minutes later she informed me the juice was bad. Right.

Ryley found a black marker somewhere in her room the other day and brought it to me. She declared that it was a "pregnant" marker.

Took me a minute to figure out she meant "permanent".

Today she declared that the kitten smelled like "tooted". We may not completely understand the use of adjectives versus verb tense yet...

One evening during the question game - in response to "what is your favorite toy?" - Abby suggested that Mommy's favorite toy was "the long shaky thing". If you don't get it, I declare that your mind is pure. If you get it, come on over to the dark side. Mike laughed for a good thirty minutes over that one. For purposes of clearing my own name, she was talking about Hannah's crazy ink pen that wiggles when you write so that your letters are loopy. Kids say the darnedest things.

Of course, there's always the famous ketchup-dropping incident... Hannah was all of two or three years old maybe when she watched me grab the economy-sized ketchup bottle out of the fridge, drop it, and consequently send globs of ketchup flying everywhere in the kitchen. I was aggravated but had no idea the impact it would leave on Hannah. Ketchup is apparently sacred in our house. Not only did she freak out then, she continues to bring it up periodically (did I mention she's eight now??) and for extra fun - when Mike spills something he loves to say "Remember that time that Momma dropped the ketchup???" Punk.

So, to incriminate him... Hannah was two when he taught her the game of pretending to take someone's nose and "showing" it to them (really a fist with your thumb stuck through two of your fingers). She was all good and fine with that game until the day he "took" her nose, "threw" it into the blender and turned it on... Priceless... although it didn't seem to stick in her mind as clearly as the ketchup incident. Priorities, I guess. You can very possibly live without your nose, but KETCHUP.....

All right, Abby's kicking me off now. She wants to go to PBS Kids.com. All I want for Christmas is my very own laptop....

So cold...

I officially have the winter blues. The sun did not shine for a single second today and it was bitterly cold.

I'm not even warm and fuzzy on the inside. I physically shivered all day today, which was to be expected when it's a whopping 28 degrees outside... but I think I mentally shivered all day, too.

I don't really know how to explain what I mean by that. When I'm physically cold, my whole body clenches up and tries to draw into itself as far as it possibly can, and shivers uncontrollably - which eventually makes me tired and sleepy. Think of it like trying to see very small print at a distance (or close up, for some of you) and squinting for long periods of time. Eventually, your eyes get tired and give up.

I feel that way mentally. My thoughts and emotions have been clenching up and drawing as far into the depths as they can get, shivering. I'm exhausted from the effort, but unlike the physical symptoms, they aren't cured by blankets or sleep.

What is the cure? I know what it is - emotional release. Gut-wrenching, screaming, sobbing, belly-laughing, three-sheets-to-the-wind release. I haven't cried in months. Maybe even years. Not really, really cried. There have been some frustrated tears, but only the kind that are ashamedly brushed away and not talked about again. I have belly-laughed, but not nearly as often as I should. There have been few if any sheets in the wind (takes too long to recover these days... college is DEFINITELY over).

There has been lots of screaming. Too much. Enough that the physical satisfaction from that kind of exertion is overshadowed by the shame and guilt from not being able to control myself better.

I've always had this problem. I don't like to lose it in front of other people. They don't really know what to do with me when it happens, and I don't like to make other people uncomfortable. I'm not big on other outward displays of emotion, either... even the happy ones. If I've laughed until I can't breathe in your presence, you're probably on my list of guardians for my children. I'll be honest, I have trouble losing it even when it's just me. I read some very, very heart-wrenching blogs that would have most men sobbing like babies, and all I could muster was misty eyes.

I'll tell you where it's gotten me. People outside of my mental shield think I'm the most stable and well-adjusted person in the world (that evokes a little giggle, I must admit). Of course, when people think you're stable, you feel the need to act stable, which perpetuates the problem and guarantees a breakdown at the least opportune moment - like in your VP's office? Yikes. Then they think you're nuts and likely to blow at any second. Great.

And, just in case you get the urge or the opportunity, I am NOT ready to talk about any of this. I get all red-faced and nauseous just thinking about it. I miss my friends. The ones I wasn't ashamed to lose it in front of. The ones I told everything to no matter how stupid or awful it was, which logically resulted in less freak-outs in the first place.

I miss my mommy and daddy. They're physically close by and willingly available, but I haven't worked out how to be a parent and yet lean on my own parents when I need it. They really do more for us than we should ask of them or let them, so guilt plays into it too... I'm so busy trying to give them their space and I'm not sure they've even asked for it. I never want them to feel like they have to ask for it.

There's a saying that sometimes it's better to do something and ask for forgiveness later than to ask for permission. My brain screams at the thought of doing anything that may require forgiveness. I'd rather ask for permission for EVERYTHING. At least then I know for sure what's going to make you mad :) and I can weigh that against how badly I want/need to do it (and added bonus of being prepared for the wrath rather than it catching me off guard).

Well, I have yet again stayed up way too late NOT waiting on my husband to get home. It was a blog full of random thoughts, I know. You may now return to your regularly scheduled programming.

Not Me Monday

Just saw this on another blog and I love it... it's so me. It's called "Not Me Monday". Click here for the rules.

I am so NOT waiting on my husband to get home. Oops... he just walked in. Busted (me, not him). I did NOT give him a hard time about being out late, either. Nor did I give him a hard time about having to pick up all three girls today.

I also did NOT feed my kids french fries and crackers for dinner. That would be ridiculous.

I am NOT staying up way too late writing two blogs in one day. On a similar note, I will NOT be cranky tomorrow nor will I take it out on everyone around me. Just. Stay. Away.

I DID NOT pick my nose in the car on the way home. Nope, not me!

I DO NOT laugh every time my three-year-old says "poop". We do not have a house rule that you can't say "poop" at the dinner table, either.

I did not almost cry when my oldest made her cartwheel on beam (see previous post).

I in no way goofed off at work today.

I did not eat four pieces of chocolate chip pizza tonight. My stomach is therefore NOT upset with me and my rear end did NOT grow another 6 inches.

I do NOT wish everyone a good night. You people suck. :)

Persistence

It was an interesting and coincidental day. Normally, I pick up the little girls from daycare around 4 and head home. Mike stays at work late and picks up Hannah from gymnastics around 6:30. Today, however, he went to hang with the guys after work, so I agreed (reluctantly, I admit) to pick Hannah up. This means that normally I would get the girls, go home, piddle for a few hours, load them back up, and pick Hannah up... then home to dinner, goof-off time, and then bed.

Not today. First, I got hung up at work until 5. Not a huge deal, but nixes the idea of going home before coming back to pick up Hannah. So, I get the little girls and decide that we'll go watch her practice until time to go home. Less driving time and gas, and usually a less frazzled mommy as a bonus.

We arrive at the gym around 5:45. Hannah is practicing her floor routine, which I love to watch. I've watched this skinny little girl perform floor routines for 3 years now... and it never ceases to amaze me how graceful she's become. She's a natural dancer (according to her ballet teacher, not me) but she's so long-limbed that it seems impossible that she would have that kind of control over them. God knows I didn't... still tripping over the cracks in the sidewalk.

Her coach comes over and tells me that Hannah is having trouble doing a cartwheel on the beam (you think??? Like that's hard or something??? Again - cracks in the sidewalk, people!!!). She'll do the cartwheel all the way over until it's time to put her feet back on the beam, and then she leans over the side and drops onto the floor. According to her coach, she does this intentionally for whatever reason. He has told her that unless she puts a foot on the beam, she won't get to compete in the meet this Friday. (For non-gymnastics people like me: Apparently, if you start the cartwheel but don't land a foot on the beam, you lose 1.6 points (out of 10 total). If you start the cartwheel, touch one foot to the beam, and then fall off, you only lose 0.5 points.) I get it. He's not saying she has to stick the cartwheel, just that she needs to stick a foot out there before she falls. Then he tells me she can stay until 8:30 (yes, p.m., and FYI - she starts practice at 4!) to keep trying it if she wants to. At this point it's about 6:15.

I'll be honest. My first thought is "Seriously??? Does this crap ever happen when Mike picks her up? Noooooooooo." But, I know she really wants to go to the meet, and the girls are fairly contained for the moment... so we sit.

I watch her try cartwheels on the beam for 45 minutes straight. Coaches talk to her and watch, then move on. On she goes. I call her over to ask if she wants me to get her something to eat, which I then do. She goes back to the beam until I return around 7. She eats quickly and then back on the beam she goes. She's frustrated, but continues for another 15 minutes or so.

I call her back over and tell her she's got 10 more minutes. The girls are getting rowdy and Hannah still has homework to do. She tells me she's trying, and I tell her that I know she is, but that she seems to be doing the same thing over and over. I tell her I know she wants to go to the meet, but that we can't stay any longer, so she might want to try something different for the next few minutes.

I look up just in time to see her left foot land squarely on the beam, wobble, and then fall off. I jump up and down. I ask her to do it again. She misses, jumps back on, then lands the foot again...wobbles, but stays on! I made her do it about 5 more times before we left, but by that time she wasn't frustrated anymore so it was no big deal.

Wow. Let's recap - my eight year old has the presence of mind to not only WANT to practice for 2 and a half hours straight, but also has the drive to practice the same skill for over an hour straight. What a life lesson for her... but what an eye-opener for me! I was so proud of her, not for getting the skill, but for continuing to try! On the way home, I ask her if she falls off on purpose because she's scared to put that foot on the beam. Turns out, she fell one day and skinned her elbow badly enough to keep it fresh in her mind. I get it - she can't hit the beam if her feet aren't anywhere near it.... but another teachable moment inserted itself nicely at this point. "Hannah, how long did the skinned elbow hurt?" (not very long) followed by "Your coach isn't going to let you compete unless you stick that foot on the beam. Are you scared enough for that to be okay? You can do it or not, it's your choice...but that skill is part of your routine and you can't compete without it. Are you okay with that?" (nooooooo). Prouder still.

We'll see how Wednesday goes. I hope she nails it.

Do I have that kind of persistence? I wonder...

Pictures...

As promised in the last post... here they are!!