It's only Tuesday

Well, hello there! And how is your week going? Mine is just starting, but I keep checking the calendar to see if it really is only Tuesday, because it feels like it's GOT to be Friday. Please! Oh, and what has been happening here? Well, let me tell you. Not a lot of sleep, first of all. James has decided that an hour and a half is his maximum sleep requirement at one period of time, and that is mostly at nighttime. Oh yes, it's been interesting. I'm a bit foggy this week, but who am I kidding? I have 4 kids! What's that line? "I'll sleep when I'm dead." LOL Soo does not apply to me.

Last night, William (who has not sat in his seat for a whole meal at ALL lately) decided, in the middle of dinner, that he was going to wear underwear. Now, I thought it would be just a phase, but he took his diaper off, put the Lightening McQueen underwear on and put his pants back on. All by himself. I decided I would humor him, a bit, so we did some potty trips. About 50, in the course of about 3 hours. I kid you not. Each time, he actually went wet. And he even told me when he needed to go. I thought, okay, it must be time to do this and I need to just let him take the lead. Okay, no biggie. Put him to bed in a pull-up (to the tune of "I just don't like this bed!!!" Seriously?!?! Stalling tactics,) knowing that he would probably not keep it dry, but thought, we'll see what tomorrow brings. Sure enough, wet pull-up. But, he says he's ready to try. My ONE rule I give him: DO NOT GO IN THE BASEMENT. Oh yes, that's his "go stinky" area. No bathroom down there, and I can't watch him as well. "Okay, mommy." What does he do?? You saw this coming, I know. We are walking out the door to take the kids to school, and he asks me to change his diaper. Oh man. No sleep momma was NOT happy. So, the guilt is back, and I am not going to attempt this issue until I can devote at least a whole day to it. Sigh.

While I was up with James at the wee hours of the morning, I hear talking in the big kid's room. Um, what?! So in I go, and apparently, Patrick had gotten up at 3AM, thought it was 6 and started to get dressed. That sweet boy was being so obedient, but at the wrong hour. He woke Emma too, and she's not a morning person, so that was interesting.

Emma's newest thing is to wake up and hang out in her room. She will not get dressed until the last.possible.minute. and then says it's my fault for her not being able to do all her morning chores. Whatever. Our mornings are not the most calm when it comes to the young lady in the house. (On a side note, could you add a prayer or two for my Emma? I think we need to have some things change around here, and I need some guidance to make it better. TIA!)

And one more thing. My home has been overrun with the newest mania, Lego Ninjago. Have you heard of it? Well, if you come to my house, William and Patrick will tell you all the names and show you all about it. Oh, and apparently it's pronounced Nin-JA-go. Patrick has never really been into Legos, so I am happy he is enjoying this. He's not a fan of putting the things BACk together, once he has put them together and they come apart, so he asked me to super glue them together. Really? I guess I can do that. Of course he wants me to put it together too. LOL He is all involved in this, and has even done a power point presentation about the ninjas. Let me say that again: Patrick has a power point presentation about all of them. He started it all on his own and has done a pretty cool job. His computer class is teaching him way more than the typing tutor that I did at my school, all those years ago.

So, that's my week so far. I'm sure there will be more to tell. How's your week going? Oh, and have I mentioned that I totally lose myself on Pinterest??? Yeah, I know. Join the club.

Tell me I am not the only one who gets lost in a parking garage. Please.

Kids keep your humble

I had to sing at Church today, and I made some serious mistakes - and not just some that only I would notice. As it turned out, Tommy had to stay home because Emma wasn't feeling well. Since I am my worst critic, I came home and said "I did terrible today." Emma picked right up on that and said, "So the people came up to you after Mass and told you that you did terrible?" I said, no, most are too polite to do that, but I know that I made mistakes. (I had to laugh because I read a prayer for humility before I sang at church and I was able to offer that to God today. My Grandma always prayed to be humble, and boy, did she ever get her prayers answered! LOL) Emma continued to ask questions, and said that "when there are more people singing at Mass, it goes better." Thanks, Emma, you are right. More people, less noticeable errors. Sigh.

No sticky fingers here

My days are pretty similar. It seems that I do the same things every day so most weeks run into the next. Sometimes I think it's because I don't DO many things differently. I do struggle with the same things every day: get out of bed early, go to bed earlier, encourage kindness in the home, clean up messes, etc. But some things I do so mindlessly that I make the EXACT same mistake every day. For example: William's sippy cup needs a refill. No problem, except that it's sticky, and I have to say I am not one that likes that feeling on my hands (ask my sisters about the year they gave me finger paints for my birthday). So, instinctively, I go to the sink first to rinse it off. Of course, the problem now is that I can't open the sippy cup because it's wet. So standing at the sink is me, straining and struggling to get a grip on the cup. It usually requires some drying, prying, and a holder to help me. But what's even MORE ridiculous is that I am going to rinse out the cup before I put anything else in it. Seriously?? I do the same thing every day. And each time, I think to myself that I need to just open the darn thing while it's sticky. I am so focused on whatever step it is that I just don't think far enough ahead. *shaking head* It's the same when I am going up and down all my townhouse stairs. I could very easily take something up and/or down with me, but I don't think of it until I am at the top/bottom of the stairs. I am a mom of 3, how can I not focus on more than one step at a time????

No wonder my house is comfortably untidy.

He did it again

The family went to a George Mason basketball game yesterday. Patrick was a bit upset about a snack that made its way to the seats we were in, and I was trying to calm him down. I said there were 3 more quarters left in the game, and we could get something later, or not at all. Patrick says, "No, Mommy, that's football. There are only 2 halves in this game."

Drat. Why can't I get it right?

The way things usually go

• On our trip to the police station, the sergeant was explaining to us that the county was going to be spending such and such an amount to make this building "green." I was trying to figure out why they would want to paint the building green, as that didn't make much sense to me. I was still pondering when he began telling about the light bulbs and windows that it occurred to me what he meant. THAT kind of green. I am so not in that mode. LOL
• Emma's ballet class is in a racquetball court at the fitness center, and there are about 3 courts to choose from. The last few classes have been great for the boys because they have been able to watch some people play in the court next to us. They have played racquetball, as well as set up a net. I told Patrick that they were playing volleyball. He says, "Nope, it's Wally ball." Well, I thought he was just reading the net, which was probably made by some business named "Wally" so we kind of went back and forth a little. Until I told my Dad what Patrick said, and, naturally, my 6 year old is correct. "It's called Wally ball because they hit it off the walls." Sigh.

Who needs a mask?

Not me. Halloween can't come soon enough for me. The skin on my face has had a reaction of some kind recently, and I have had to go without make up for quite a few days. It is driving me crazy! My skin is peeling in some areas, raised, red, itchy and burning. the areas that are the most noticeable are the forehead and the eyes. It makes me think I look like this guy, minus the facial hair. Everyone is so kind about it, but I know it's pretty noticeable. I finally have some cream from the doctor, and I am crossing my fingers that my face is back to normal.

Otherwise, I know a TV show that I can try out for.

Soccer Mom DON'Ts

• Don't forget to bring a snack for the children who are on the sidelines watching the game.
• Don't forget to bring a drink for the other members of the family.
• Don't forget to have plenty of things to occupy the baby and sister while the game is going on.
• Don't bring anything that you don't want covered in grass, dirt, goose/dog poop, or get wet.
• Don't forget to dress warmly.

Most importantly:

• DON'T bring bubbles to the field. Even if you think the wind will carry them in a different direction and your baby will be distracted, inevitably, the players on the field who are 5 and 6 years old will be distracted as well, and rookie soccer mommy will be fussed at. (Just like the Far Side comic strip: "Oooh! Goldfish!")

Just sayin'.

Just a little nuts around here

I was so sure that we needed walnuts.....

I must have given him "the look"

The doorbell rang, and I was in the middle of something, so I wasn't too keen on answering it, knowing that it wasn't UPS or FedEx ("mommy got a PACK-age, mommy got a PACK-age" is the chant when they come). Emma and Patrick were playing, and they know the rules: don't answer the phone or door unless you have Mommy's permission. Nonetheless, they get excited when the bell rings, and go running to see. Patrick ran to the window and announced "we don't know him!" Emma clumped over the kitchen floor in her dress-up shoes to the door, and as I am looking through the peephole (installed nice and low just for me!), she unlocks the front door! So, even if I was going to ignore the doorbell, I can't now. She just gave my position away to the enemy. Rats. At the door is a snaggle-tooth teenager, who says hesitatingly to me:

"Hi. I've been talking to the neighbors. You gonna beat me up?"

Turns out he was "collecting money to send a group of them to Cabo, Paris" or some other place. Asking me for a donation. After starting the conversation like that. I admit, I did give him a look and asked "why" and he claimed he was just teasing. Needless to say, I did NOT give him any donations. Still scratching my head about that one.