Animated Animosity

The other morning Baby had a funny look on her face. When I asked her what was wrong, she replied by throwing up. So she spent the day on the couch with her favorite blanket, watching cartoons, which means I was right there with her. Here are a few observations:

• There are far too many kids' shows featuring pigs. What is it with pigs? They look weird, are smelly, aren't at all cuddly, and it's just odd to have them walking on two legs, with their knees all backwards and such. I think the cartoon executives ought to learn from the Germans and feature a loaf of bread instead.
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• The opinion I formed of Dora the Explorer years ago still holds with child #3.
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• While watching said "unsupervised child," my daughter was completely focused on helping Dora reach her destination. Toward the end of the show when it came time to climb a ladder, Baby was asked to put her hands out in front of her and help Dora climb. Baby didn't miss a beat and replied in a very stern voice "You're a big girl now, Dora. and big girls need to try all by yourself before I help you." Gee, maybe I've been saying that a lot lately or something.
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• Why is it that some cartoon characters can spend the entire show running around buck nekkid, but when it's time to go swimming, they put on swimming suits? Really, what's the point by then?
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• When I mention that I don't like Max & Ruby, other parents usually concur, stating how Ruby is just soooo bossy. But it's not Ruby; it's Max. Ruby isn't exactly mean about her instructions. Heck, their parents are nowhere to be seen (probably eaten by a wolf) so she's just doing the best she can. And Max constantly disobeys. And when he disobeys? It ends up being the right thing to do! Anyone with an annoyingly perfect little brother knows what I mean.
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• I have to remember that these shows are geared toward the preschool age-range, so I won't over-think the plots. For instance, if the three clues in Steve's handy dandy notebook are a mat, a twirling thingy, and a leotard, then don't assume that Blue wants to be Olympic gymnast. That stream of thinking is way too high level for a show that features salt and paper shakers that gave birth to paprika.

After an afternoon as a captive audience, I have to say that cartoons might have actually raised my IQ. Hey, I learned how to say "jump" in Spanish, the life stages of a caterpillar and the effects on bug friendships, and how easily a koala bear's feelings can get hurt by ants. Much more productive than cleaning a house that gets torn up every afternoon anyway.

Overwhelmed

I have the greatest friends and neighbors! Shortly after my last post was published, my doorbell rang. It was a very lovely woman who I am lucky enough to count as a friend. She immediately filled my arms with the makings for dinner and breakfast tomorrow as well as some yummy treats. I wanted to kiss her but her husband might get jealous so I just cried instead.

Then another friend insisted I bring the kids over Saturday morning to play so I could rest. I resisted but she was pretty adamant. I'm glad I let her help me because Saturday was by far the worse day yet. I have something like a weird combination of a chest cold, allergies and the flu. I returned home with visions of hot uninterrupted showers filling my head...only to promptly spew all over the kitchen. So the first half hour of "me" time was spent cleaning the kitchen floor.

I ended up calling in reinforcements after that. Aunt Denise came over after naptime and stayed until after bedtime. She ran the kids around outside while I passed out in bed. She made dinner while I sat and read a book. She cleaned my kitchen while I laid on the couch with a cold compress on my eyes. She dunked the dirty kids in the bathtub while I...actually, I don't remember what I did but I am sure I was useless. She is wonderful! And the best part? My children are still alive and did not need to be strapped to their beds.

Yet another friend is bringing me dinner tonight. (She is notoriously a healthy eater and I am not...so I told her she could bring me dinner as long as it wasn't healthy. She'll probably find some sneaky, tasty way to make me eat vegetables anyway.)

So those are my good overwhelmings...let me tell you the not-so-good.

Friday night the entire family was invited to a birthday party...at Chuck E. Cheese (did mothers everywhere just groan at the mention of that name?). Now, I knew that someday, I would have to enter that establishment so my kids could have the experience. I have fond memories of the place from when I was a kid. I hoped that the Man would have also been a part of that, so that way we could each chase a kid around. Not to be. The Man is gone away, leaving me for networks and servers and hubs and a bunch of other stuff that I don't understand but pays our bills. Still, it wouldn't have been such a bad thing if not for a couple factors: I had a painful cough and quickly ran out of cough drops, the party table was located right next to a gigantic speaker that constantly blared annoying "party" music as played by the robotic band on stage, and the Boy taking "freak out" to a whole new level on his very first game there.

To mark the occasion (discovering yet another ring in my personal hell), I had the kids sit in the car that takes your picture.


The Boy wanted to know who this person was beside him that kept talking to him. He decided Chuck was okay, since he never tried to grab the steering wheel.


Da Boo had been pulled away from her buds to get her picture taken so she was a little less excited about it, as can been seen in her ultra-posed smile.

After getting them in bed that night, I virtually collapsed. No wonder Saturday was so much harder. The good news? I have a doctor's appointment Monday morning! That's less than 24 hours away! Yipppeeee!

I Surrender

This morning, I was awakened by my son trying to forcibly feed me a lollipop. Where exactly he found said treat is questionable. He took it personally when I refused.

Looking outside, it's a miserable day. It's cold. It's windy. It's snowing. Yup, snowing.

I am sick. I have a painful cough, which, while agonizing, doesn't have the right symptoms to warrant a prescription. I could really use some drugs. Not for me...for the kids. One is semi-sick and the other is perfectly fine. The semi-sick one is just sick enough (same cough) to be whiny, hog the humidifier and constantly burst into tears at the slightest slight. Not sick enough to medicate and therefore, send to a druggy nap for the afternoon. The other one is about to be sold to gypsies. They just need to raise their price a little more so I can afford that all-expenses-paid resort trip.

Did I happen to mention that the Man is gone? Yeah. Won't be back until next weekend.

The only thing keeping me from pulling on pjs and crawling back into bed for the rest of the week is the fact that tonight is Book Group. The book for this evening? Twilight. So of course I'm going. Even have a babysitter lined up. Just hope I can get out a complete sentence without coughing up a lung.

FHE: The Safe Side

After all the blog and real-life comments from people who read my FHE posts, I am feeling a little nervous. What if my FHEs get boring? What if we start repeating the same lessons? What if you won't hold my hand on the third date? Oh wait...that's a different kind of nervous.

Monday began with a call to the doctor's office. The Boy was sporting a brand new case of the croup. After nearly 2 1/2 hours spent traveling to, waiting (sometimes while sitting on the floor), going back to room, waiting some more (but with fruit snacks this time!), holding a squirming Boy as he is poked and prodded, then holding a writhing Boy as he gets a shot, trying to console poor injured Boy, hauling very heavy and crying Boy back to car, and driving home with the constant ebb and flow of sobbing, I was tired. And then the Boy wouldn't take a nap. Of course. So yesterday? Not a good day. And that doesn't even include the tales I could share about da Boo's regressing and having accidents daily! For FHE last night, I kinda copped out.

At the library, I found a movie that teaches kids about being safe around people they don't know. We've checked it out a couple times because the kids love it. And if you don't grin like an idiot when the Boy says "Safe Side Super Chick," then you, my friend, have a heart of stone. It was da Boo's turn to teach the lesson so I whispered my plan in her ear and she was on board.

Opening Song: Twinkle Little Star (because the Man made the mistake of asking for suggestions.)

Opening Prayer: The Boy - and he thanked God for stars.

Lesson: Da Boo and I visited the Safe Side website and looked through their teaching guides. Using this, I read a Hot Tip and da Boo explained why we should do this. There is some lingo involved so she carefully explained these terms to the Man, who hasn't yet had the thrill of watching that movie three times in a row.

Don't Know - someone you don't know. I like this term because you can remind your kids to be a little more careful in public without offending anyone who doesn't consider themselves a "stranger."
Kinda Know - someone you know a little bit but not all that well, like older siblings friends, other teachers at school, some neighbors, etc. Also a useful term.
Safe Side Super Chick - The hostess of the movie, a superhero that changes the color of her shirt depending on the danger of each situation: green for safe, yellow for be careful and red for DANGER!
Safety Circle - your personal space. Don't allow don't knows to get too close.
Safe Side Super Adult - people you can trust your child with. These include teachers, grandparents, uncles, aunts, etc. These should be adults who help your child feel comfortable, that they can ask for help if there's a problem.

We reviewed the Hot Tips about being safe with running commentary from da Boo. We asked her a few questions, gave her scenarios and such. She did wonderfully. Her brother, on the other hand, dissolved into a puddle of whining goo about halfway through.

Closing Song: I Am A Child Of God.

Closing Prayer: The Man.

Treats: Adcoma cake. I made this for a neighbor who had recently done something very nice for me but when I went to deliver it, she wasn't home! She wasn't home the two other times I tried to take it over so...we ate it. If you did something nice for me recently...well, sorry about your cake. But it was delicious!

Dad, don't look!

My father, who is deathly allergic to cats, would hate this post. But...

Isn't that just the cutest thing you ever saw? Say it with me now... "Awwwwwww!"

Everyone is relatively healthy at the house now. Unfortunately, now the house is very ill. Looks like it threw up inside itself. Okay, maybe not that bad but I've really gotten behind on just about everything. In the midst of stressing over sending out our Christmas cards, I was wondering why I had it so together last year but this year nothing is getting done. Then I remembered: Flylady. Last year, I was a faithful flybaby and followed her Holiday Cruise guidelines. I have since fallen off the wagon and severely smacked my head or something. I think it might be time to start over with the baby steps...gotta go shine my sink! (and then get to work on those Christmas cards!)

Ewwww Yuck

Sorry for the posting drought. And I don't have a book to blame this time. Instead, I'll blame the flu.

Friday afternoon, the Boy woke up from his nap and da Boo proceeded to run into his room to tease him mercilessly. She's such a good sister. So, he's crying and all hysterical by the time I mosey in there. He'd called out to me earlier, saying he had spilled. Not knowing what that meant, I didn't think much of it but when I walked into him room to get him out of his crib, I understood.

"I spilled" is Boy-speak for "I threw up."

And we all know just how good I am at handling that sort of thing! Luckily, it wasn't bad and was quickly cleaned up. Later that evening, I went to a really great bread-making class - which I will have to blog about later - when the Man calls me. Apparently, the Boy had "spilled" again - twice. He wasn't running a temperature, wasn't acting subdued or abnormal. Just spewed his guts periodically.

Saturday, he was fine. He even got mad at his daddy when the Man won't give him a sandwich for lunch, offering instead crackers and Sprite. The Boy came to find me and announced "Daddy no loves me anymore." Sunday morning dawned bright and early (we had a blizzard the day before so it was also very cold). The Man left for his meetings and the Boy woke up. This time, when he announced that he "spilled," I leapt out of bed. I got him cleaned up and tried texting the Man about the problem. This was compounded by the fact that I was supposed to substitute in Primary for da Boo's class. Still no temp or acting sick. I decided he couldn't go to church when his diaper erupted, resulting in yet another load of laundry. We ended up tag-teaming church: the Man got to go to Sacrament and I got to hang out in Primary.

The Man has a touch of it and da Boo is currently sitting on the potty after whining that her tummy hurt. Should make for an interesting evening! Anyone want to place bets on how soon I come down with it?

***Update!***
I had no sooner hit "Post" when da Boo vomited all over herself while sitting on the toilet. So she's crying, I'm trying not to gag and the Man is mocking me. So I made him clean the bathroom while I took a stripped-down girl to our room to shower. She is tucked back in bed with clean jammies, a sippy cup of Sprite and a barf bucket sitting on the floor next to her bed.

Ugh

I had every intention of posting yesterday, giving you all the frosting-coating details from the party.

But I got sick.

I woke up feeling horrible, sick to my stomach, but had a cake to do and a group of 5 year olds to entertain so I soldiered through it. Shortly after the last kid left, I laid down on the couch...and then didn't move for nearly an hour as my body stiffened up. About 4 pm, I went to bed and almost immediately fell asleep. I woke up this morning as the Man was leaving for bishopric meetings. I felt better, although weak and my muscles felt like jello. Nothing some food and a hot shower can't fix! But now I'm starting to feel it again.

Let's all keep our fingers crossed that this is due to morning sickness!

Dilemma

I have a serious dilemma. I really just don't know what I should do. Can you help me? The situation is difficult.




You can see the problem, can't you? That's a pan of delicious, fudgey brownies. They even have chunks of chocolate in them. Absolutely heaven! But isn't the problem obvious? Look at them. They are uneven. I was too hasty cutting out a portion to share with a friend and look what I did! Unacceptable! What to do? I suppose I could use that handy knife and just...trim them up a little. No one would notice. The evidence of my actions is easy to erase. And really, eating more brownie is a small price to pay for sanity. I can't think straight knowing I have crooked brownies in the house! Pretty soon, I'll have an uneven number of Diet Coke cans and we just can't have that, either.

Tip: Use a plastic knife to cut brownies. The gooey goodness won't stick to the plastic like it will to ordinary knives.

And we're all sick...again. Except for the Man. He's safe in California on a business trip. Out of reach of these germs. I got it first. Started as a sore throat and moved into the sinuses. Da Boo got it yesterday and the Boy has the goopy nose today. And there's not another adult around to let me take a nap while the kids spit out their medicine and whine non-stop.

Somebody ought to make it a rule that colds are not permitted during the summer. Seriously, they should be illegal.

My Failure As A Mother

Can you keep a secret?

Come a little closer...

Closer...

Okay, here's the deal: I cannot handle vomit. Not even my own. Hate it, hate it, hate it! So I fail as a mom when my poor kids are puking like mad, feeling sick and miserable. All they want is their mommy but I am covering my mouth and heading for dryer ground! The Man and I even made a pact before we were married: I could handle what came out one end of our kids if he would handle the other end.

This brings me to why I haven't posted in the last couple days. I've been hiding. Well, not really. Actually, I was sick first. Of course, the Man has a business trip and can't take care of me. He did make it to the store to stock up on Sprite and Pepto Bismol before racing off to the airport. (Note to self: next time the flu hits, claim I have an important meeting with Santa Claus and catch the next flight to the North Pole!)

So I spent Thursday moaning, groaning, sipping Sprite and downing the pink goodness that is Pepto. Last night was da Boo's Preschool Graduation...I'll post pictures later. I called in the re-enforcements (namely Aunt Denise) to make sure she would have someone with her. I was able to make it but not without lots of whining and whimpering. All seemed well in the land of Me.

Then midnight rolls around.

Da Boo wakes up crying. I tuck her back in and turn up her ceiling fan. Then I head back to bed. A little while later, she wakes up again. Before I can make it to her room, her crying is interrupted by an all too familiar sound. I stop. I contemplate hiding in my closet for the rest of the night. As she continues gushing like Old Faithful, I decide to gird up my loins and go to battle, reminding myself to breathe through my mouth.

A load of laundry, a shower, a floor scrubbing, two mad dashes to the outdoor garbage can, new jammies and a set of clean sheets later, da Boo is back in her bed and I can go back to mine. I certainly didn't win any medals for valor, as I frequently had to leave the room to stop my gagging. And more than once, I was cursing the Man for leaving me to this misery. But it's finally over.

For now.

**UPDATE: It's just about 6:30 pm. I talked to the Man earlier. He is sick! So I hereby retract all muttered curses and mean thoughts toward my beloved, who is stuck in another state with only room service to take care of him. Hope they have lots of Sprite!

It's NOT Fair!

I'm still sick. Like hacking cough, spewing mucus sick. And the Man is sick (and whiny). Da Boo isn't feeling so hot and coughs a lot. Of course, the Boy is perfectly healthy. I took a nap Thursday while da Boo was at preschool and the Boy just played. I woke up to find my nightstand filled with his toys. Apparently, he kept himself well entertained within three feet of my unconscious form. Hey, nothing was flushed down the toilet or eaten.

So here's my complaint: why is it that Mommy is never allowed to be sick? I have to cater to the needs of everyone else while I am feeling like death warmed over. I am tucking little ones (and big, whiny ones) into bed while I'm trying not to cough up a lung. I answer to every call for comfort while I am desperately in need of some TLC myself. IT'S NOT FAIR! And then again, the irony of it all is that when I am sick, I really, really want my mommy.

**Currently, my Mommy is in Florida with my Air Force brother and his cute wife. Rumor has it that they are the proud parents of a little boy! I don't have all the details, as he was just born a few hours ago, but I'll update as soon as I know! Congrats to them!

The Boy is Sick

That is one clever title, eh? Well, the boy is sick. He's had a cold off and on for the last month (thank you, LDS nursery!). Today it's pretty gross...and I mean bad, his cold is bad. Very much reminds me of the comedy bit by Bill Cosby where he refers to his sick, snot-crusted child as the Glazed Donut Monster. In fact, THAT is what my title should be! Oh well...

So when the kiddos are sick, they need a LOT more attention. They go from High Maintenance to Super Ultra High Maintenance (Now with more WHINE). And I'm totally a sucker for it. When one - or both, as is frequently the case - gets sick, all I wanna do is cuddle with them, give them any comfort I can think of and hope they get better soon. One thing they always ask for (even when not sick) is to lay on my bed. So I tucked in the Sicky Boy in with his meme (that's Boy-speak for his blanket), his Bee Baby, my old teddy bear, a book and a kiss on the forehead. What more could he possible want? A truck, apparently. What good is sick-vegging without a little four-wheel drive? So I brought him a truck.

Ever the consciencious big sister, da Boo had her own way of helping him feel better.


She put her shoes on him. Since he first located his mouth as an infant, the Boy has loved shoes. That sentence doesn't quite make sense, does it? It should probably read "Since he first located his mouth as an infant, the Boy has loved eating shoes." See here. Shoes are still very much an important part of his diet. (And if you are wondering why da Boo is not wearing her glasses, it's because they are broken but that is a WHOLE other post.)

Since the Boy is sick and medicated, I've decided to do a little experiment. I am going to pick up some toys (shocking, I know) and see if the house stays cleaner with him out of action. I have my suspicions about the results...