When your husband says too much

My husband just arrived home from Taiwan.  I tried to look cute for his arrival.  I won’t say as cute as possible, because by the time I got my daughter out the door to school, let the dogs out, took care of the morning coal furnace, took a quick shower, and dressed/fed/watered two toddlers, I was already running behind for my hour journey to the airport.  I did my makeup in the car and actually went without coffee because I didn’t even have time for that.  No, the world did not end—in case you were wondering.  I suppose I can live without coffee if I must 😉

And we reach the airport a tad late.  No one’s upset. All happy.  Then we head home.

So exciting.  Lots of cuddling and chatting on the couch.

Then out come the fun selfies.  Yes.  I take selfies.

We, being the parents, were being silly.  Goofy selfies left and right.  Then we did what most do—we scrolled through the results.  That’s when my newly returned husband went from being my sweetheart to my nemesis, for this is the selfie, and then I’ll share what he said…

“Oh my!   How many chins do you have there???”

Really, Richard?  Really?

Needless to say, I have one husband for sale.

Any takers?

How to live with the toddler tornado season of your life.

Yesterday started and ended in a tornado.  If we had a storm cellar, I may have hidden down there.  I don’t have twins, but I have toddler-like twin tornadoes that swirl through my home daily—and I just can’t keep up.

In a few short months, I will be 40.  Did you read that correctly?  FORTY!

That’s like the beginning of Phase 2 of life.  And I feel great and look so forward to it.

But there is this thing.  Having a baby at 30 versus 40 is a new ballgame.  It’s like the NBA Stars in their prime versus the Dancing Grannies that move and kick at all rhythms, even though they are suppose to be kicking together.

I am kicking at my own rhythm and the toddlers are not kicking with the nearly 40-year-old me.

And when I feel worn down, I look the tornadoes in their faces and realize that, although I am in the eye of their storm, too quickly this storm will pass—and I will miss the mess!

I feel as if I failed miserably raising my first daughter who is now 9 (my toddler-like-twin tornadoes are respectively 1 & 1/2 and 3).  I feel like I pushed her too hard, disciplined her too much, and expected her to grow too quickly.

Perhaps I feel as if I had to prove to the world that I was a fantastic 1st time mom?  Perhaps I had to feel as if I had the world’s greatest daughter?  Perhaps I just had too many expectations for myself in my mind—even though everyone around me told me to Stop.  Enjoy.  Love.  Care.  Laugh.  Don’t stress.  And Just be.

But I didn’t heed any of their advice.  Before I knew it, my daughter was no longer the tornado toddler, and I miss every naked moment when she was running around in nothing but pink cowboy boots or singing and skating in flour skating rinks on the kitchen floor.

I miss the days when she invited the dogs to sit at the table to eat with us.

And I miss the days when she told me I was greater than Santa and any present he may bring.

Therefore, although I am nearly 10 years past the birth of my oldest — and far more feeling 40 than 30 — technically “nearly” the middle-aged mom of toddlers — I am TRYING … OH TRYING SO HARD — to get it right this time.

If you feel as if your life is a toddler tornado zone—remember me.  And remember how I already miss the toddler tornado moments because I have already seen one child exit the zone and have come out on the other side.  Oh how I wish that I could relive every moment with her in that tornado again.

I would actually throw open that cellar door and run out into the storm with her and say, “OH!  Look!  It’s snowing inside again, is it?!”  And simply vacuum up the baby powder that dusted her doll house and carpet later.

Because, after all, how much longer will she truly believe that it snows inside?

But my other 2, my toddlers, are still there—living every moment of that beautiful snowball of imagination.  Yesterday reminded me how glorious their brilliant imaginations are—and I intend, in my aging and wiser years, to soak it up this time.

And not rush it out.

I hope you throw open the storm cellar and run into the tornado with your toddlers.  May snow grace their bedrooms and monsters be slayed in the halls.

May little Batman briefs and diapers with tutus grace your living rooms…

And may crumbs tumble onto your floors.

Because the toddler storm will end and your house will seem far too clean and quiet—and you will wonder where time went.

Seize the day, my toddler mom friends.  Which means—you will hardly get to eat, sit, shower, or breathe—but seize the day in toddler imaginations, mess, and a good ol’ squeeze them tight and watch them squeal sort of day.

Enjoy your storms.

I do!

***

Here is my Facebook post from yesterday where I was inspired to enjoy the tornado versus get myself upset over the newfound work before me:

i walk up the stairs during maxwell and josephine’s nap time —this is what i find:

max in the hallway in his batman pajamas, hello kitty pink ballerina shoes, and gold princess gloves—wielding a pop-gun “sword” shouting, “I am fighting the monsters, mom!”

to which i think—is josephine sleeping? 

so i walk into their room — where i find:

josephine trapped in her bed, standing up, , wearing a ballerina skirt and superman baseball hat shouting “UP! UP!”

i don’t stop there—i look around the room === this is what i see:

fish and turtle food everywhere.

every clean sheet that was once (only a mere hour earlier) tucked away waiting for the future use—strewn about the floor covered in fish food and turtle food.

but at least max is keeping our house free of monsters, right?  wink emoticon

hope your day is made up of the most beautiful of memories. i know mine is! 

AND THEN THIS HAPPENED:

and the night ended with baby powder all over the floor—because, you know, it snowed 😉 haha!  #whenthemessendsiwillmissit

The Pumpkin With The Light of Jesus…

Every year when it’s time to carve pumpkins, we do this awesome thing at church.  We carve pumpkins with the children.  And we share the story how God scoops sin out of your life and carves a smile on your face and puts his light in you for all the world to see.

It’s really great and the kids love it.

So, yesterday when I went to pick up Maxwell (age 3) from Sunday school and hear all about his pumpkin, I asked him whose light should shine in our lives.  You know…typical Sunday school review stuff.

“The pumpkin’s light!” He shouted.

There you have it, Friends…

Sometimes the best of intentions still get lost to the cutest responses.

What can I say?

#kids #pumpkins #carving #thelightofjesus

I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness. 

John 12:46

Laundry Mountain and Maxwell with his pretty shoes.

When you have one boy and two girls, you will most likely see your boy dressing as a girl than the other way around.  Now, mind you, he will have a wooden sword in one hand while prancing in pretty silver shoes at the same time.

But you do see his Batman underwear, right?

It’s like he’s all boy — with a dainty side 😉

Anyhow, I thought you may enjoy my laundry adventures with Max and Jo.  Which pretty much means I get no laundry done.

But I get the moments of love with my kids (although I am sure Josephine was feeling a little too loved tonight).

Have a great day and enjoy the episodes of Laundry Mountain!

xo b

Laundry Mountain and Maxwell Pretty Shoes!

Snow angels in the clothes!

GoGo my special sister!  Declares Maxwell.  Jo does NOT feel the love tonight 😉

A funny for everyone married. Okay—mostly wives ;)

So, as I am trying to gather all of the photos I can find from my daughter’s trip to Taiwan, I thought that you may just enjoy a bit of humor that I saw on Facebook the other day!

Well—if you’re a wife, you’ll enjoy it.  If you’re the husband or the mother-in-law, maybe not as much?!  haha!

xo b

PS—All in good fun.  I promise.

To The Mom of the Child That Constantly Runs around in Public Naked…

Did you ever see that child?  You know—the one in public NAKED as the day he was born?  Except it’s been a few years since he was born.

I have seen that kid around town A LOT lately.

He’s naked at the nearby lake.

He’s naked at the school playground.

He’s naked at a local transitional home for formerly homeless men.

He’s practically naked at church.

Yep.  I have seen that kid A LOT—and every time I see him, I wonder—WHY IN THE WORLD DON’T HIS PARENTS MAKE HIM PUT ON HIS CLOTHES?????

It drives me NUTS!

Literally NUTS!

And then I realize I am that naked kid’s mom.

And all of that public nudity is my problem.

And what am I going to do about it???

Well, considering I have two toddlers and no sanity—I guess naked he shall remain.

He won’t go to kindergarten like this, will he?

😉

No offense, Mom. I pretended like I was you last night… SAY WHAT?!

“Niney.  Niney girl, wake up!”  I said gently stroking her face.  Niney is what she has been called since she was a little one running around calling herself Nine-Nine.

“Niney.  Niney.  Why are all of your blankets on the ground?”  I prodded, as I continued to gently stroke her face trying delicately to wake the sleeping giant (She is NOT a morning person.  Which means enter her morning lair with extreme caution and soft words 😉 )

“No offense, Mom, I was pretending like I was you last night.”

“You mean—sleeping on the ground?!”

“Yes.”

Friends—my kids have caught me.

This is what my life has come to…

My kids in what would (in far far far stretches of other worlds) be my dream…

Living as I lead.  Following my example.  Being like Mommy.

Except this Mommy DOES NOT WANT TO SLEEP ON THE GROUND 😉

It’s just that is sometimes as far as I can make it…

And, apparently, my daughter finds this ONE thing to imitate???

“No offense, Mom…”

Yeah.  Right.

I have 3 offenses (Ada, Max, Jo)—and it was the chocolate, Coke, bag of chips, and late night TV that saved my sanity but kept me on the ground.

Ah well…At least she’s trying to be a bit like good ol’ mom, eh?????

No offense taken, Kid.

At least this time.

Now, clean up my mess!

That famous mantra “Silence is Golden”??? So NOT true when you have toddlers.

What’s that famous mantra again that we use in our homes or classrooms or out in public “Silence is Golden”???

Yeah.  That is just such a falsehood when it comes to raising mischievous toddlers.

My husband…the dear old man (okay—39 is only old to children)…is off again.

It happens frequently in my life if you have been following this blog from it’s origin.

Anyhow—he is leading a men’s retreat this weekend.  Now, mind you, he barely returned home Monday night.

Therefore, he was technically home for 4 glorious days.

When I say glorious, you should understand that means busy and crazy and two of those nights he was gone as well—but he bathed the kids in between his few hours at home 😉

And I really don’t mind.

But tonight as I am trying to put new sheets on my toddler number 1 bed because he soiled his sheets this morning—I have toddlers 1 and 2 (so they are Josephine age 17 months and Maxwell age just now 3) playing with his electric and awesome train set.  Easy peasy because the trains shall babysit—right????

So I leave the two toddlers and begin to arrange for my 9-year-old to get in bed as well.

Brush teeth?

Check.

PJs?

Check.

All your clips from your dance recital out of your hair?

Check.

Bed made and ready for entrance?  Radio adventure on?  Disco light dancing?

Check; check; check.

That’s when it hit me…

It was TOO electric train silent!

So Adelyne and I run to the toddlers room (shared room) and discover not a single minion in there.

Where to go next?

It’s a small home, so it’s not too hard to follow the noise—but there was no noise.

Turns out the little devils found their way into the bathroom.  Our bathroom is also our laundry room.

And a small (yet large when your husband is out of town and you are so tired because you have already changed soiled bed sheets from toddler oldest and cleaned up puke in the car from toddler youngest today as well as cleaned out a poopy potty training toilet and changed the Mt. Everest of stinkiest diapers in the world today—and that’s coming from a woman who literally lives only 100 meters from an actual pig farm—STINKY)…

Oh, let me get back to the story—

A small but LARGE snowball fight of laundry soap was taking place.

Lots of THROWING high in the air and then a mad dash away with giggles.

The next would run in and overtake the laundry box and grab a handful and throw, dash, and giggle.

Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.

Why oh ye little monsoons???  WHY?

I run in all mommy-threatening like.

Yet they don’t respond.

How is that possible?

I totally scare myself at times.

My husband cowers.

My eldest runs for cover.

These Littles…Perhaps they realize that I am too old.  They literally have no fear.

So I catch the closest—my son!  I whisk him into his room, finish putting on his pajamas, he’s yelling, “NO!  It’s WAKE TIME!  WAKE TIME!”  as I begin tossing him (literally) in bed, so I can scamper quickly off to catch the other rebel.

She squeals and tries to dart away.

Man!  That girl is getting fast!

I grab the chub and gently (after all, she is my baby ;)), toss her in bed—turn on her light song music thing and her giraffe cuddle thing and give her the one million blankets she sleeps with at night—

I kiss them both in this hurry before they begin to BAWL kiss-y way and pray silently in my head while mad dashing out the door with a BAM (slamming my hand on the light switch) and actual SLAM of the door … drowning out any tears and sobs that might ensue with my super mommy “I Don’t Hear Nothin'” ears on.

Now to the 9-year-old.

You would think she would be easy, right?

So wrong.

“Ow!  I have a bruise.  I need ice on my foot.  I need ice to eat as well.  I can’t hear my radio drama.  Can I read???”

Kiss, kiss, kiss.

So proud of you for your dance recital today.

I will get you ice—NOT for your bruise.  You will survive.

No, you can’t read.

Yes, you can read in the morning IF you get up early.

No, I won’t leave the light on for you.

Yes, you must go to sleep.

Dear Jesus, pray, pray, pray…

DASH down the stairs—get a cup of ice—dash up the stairs…THROW ice cubes at her (just kidding).

Kiss on forehead and RUN out of room before 1 million questions begins again.

SLAM second door of the night.

Start more poopy laundry from daughter’s diaper explosion (second round of poopy laundry for the day—I HAVE mentioned that, right???)…

Run downstairs.  GRAB Coke (not the drug) and chocolate.

Serenity now????

We shall see, my friends.  We shall see.

After all, I still have NO gate and 3 dogs literally tied up to the trees outside—I have yet had the energy for their evening walk and to bring them in.

Perhaps they will stay tied to the tree tonight?

Or will they chew through their leashes and run away?

How much crying can I handle in the morning???

Who knows, but as I type this there are 3 sleeping kids and I must say that mantra is kind-of true, “Silence is Golden” (as long as kids are sleeping).

Here we go…

Richard’s brother asked how many takes this took to make this video.

Let me tell you—one.  The only one.  I mean, really?  How in the world can you duplicate that?  It was perfect in all timing.

Here I was walking the dogs when I found a fox hole.  And then I called and had my daughter come out.  And then we called and had daddy and Max come out.

And then we decided that Adelyne (because she is normally crazy) would have a bunch of fun dancing to the music in front of the fox hole.  And so we played the music.

Well, Adelyne decided she really wanted the dogs to dance with her.  And, surprisingly???? the dogs were not interested.  So, while she spent her time chasing the dogs, daddy is in the background going crazy with his son to the music.

It is and will be a family classic for keeps.  Now, whose wedding will it play at?  Maxwell’s (in daddy’s arms)?  Adelyne’s (running after the dogs)?  Or perhaps simply at Richard’s birthday or our 50 year anniversary????

In any case, it was fun to make but WAY more fun to watch!

Enjoy.

xo

b

This is my life…

well, i just always want to write, but my mind is one huge blank sheet of paper.  so tired.  and pretty much filled with only toddlers.

yes, i would love to say that they are inspirational writing prompts—but, really, they are simply just inspirational life suckers 😉

take last night—we finally arrive home after an entire afternoon celebrating children’s day in kalisz (a couple hours from our home) when i throw them in the bathtub thinking that they’ll love to play.  before long, the bathtub stinks and the water is colored.

sure enough.  josephine soiled our tub.

so i pull out two wet babies and take them to the shower now—draining the tub.  then they play for an hour in the shower.

as i pull them out, wrap towels around them and bring them to the living room to diaper them and put them in pjs for bed, josephine promptly went number one on the carpet.

then max—unpottytrained max—decided that peeing on the carpet looked like fun, so he said, now i go pee pee here (and proceeded to pretend pee on the carpet).

yes.  my mind is blank.

but happy.

and my children are poopy messes.

but happy.

and this is all i can write—because my brain functions not.

oh—and our dogs are locked up all day during our home renovations and the minute they got out they broke the neighbor dogs leg by jumping all over it (yes, the dog is fine and the vet fixed the leg and we paid for the leg and the dog is still happy—so PHEW there :)).

yes…i wonder why i can’t write?

no, i pretty much know why 🙂

hope you enjoy our photos anyway.  haha!

xoxo from here to there,

b

(messy josephine after a good day of playing in the dirt and eating oreos…and the new life center—see bread of life ministries on Facebook—and max butt naked but phased out.  yes.  this is my life and i THANK GOD for it.  truly.)