Family Visit
The Okies were in town for the past couple of weeks and just like the tornados their state is known for, they brought with them chaos, mayhem and a little bit of excitement.
When Arisa and Jack come back to Michigan, they come home. In fact, I spoke with Jack one evening and asked him what he thought about Michigan. He told me that this is his home because this is where his family is. Home isn’t necessarily where you live, where you sleep, where you eat. He loves his life in Oklahoma, but here, with us, is home.
While they were in town, we had a barbeque at our house to celebrate Logan’s first trip to Michigan. It was great to see everyone and to introduce our newest family member.
And we learned that, when the time comes for Maggie to have a boyfriend, she’s going to fall hard. She followed Jack around like a little puppy the whole time that he was here and was devastated when he had to leave. Just yesterday, when I told her that we were going to the Shelby Township Art Fair, she asked if we could bring Jack. I told her that he was back in Oklahoma and that he couldn’t come with us. She replied, "But I want him. Let’s go get him." 
She asked me again today, when she would see him again. When I told her Christmas time, she became distracted by the prospect of sharing with him the wonders of the season, which to her includes snowfalls, Christmas trees and presents.
We also learned that Audrey gets her bluntness from Arisa and that she might just have the mommy bone after all.
And finally, we determined that we are definitely not equipped with the patience or stamina to handle two toddlers and a newborn. We’ll save that project for another couple of years. Maybe.
Random Meme
I was planning on posting some photos of the grandchildren and of M&A in all the glory of sisterhood, but I’m still sick and I’m tired from the craziness of family being in town, so I thought I’d do something here that I haven’t done in ages. Deb had this free-for-all meme and I’m stealing it to pass my last hour of work.
What Was I Doing 10 Years Ago?
I was just out of school and learning the ropes of the “real world” while at the same time contemplating applying to law school, as was the original plan. I was working at a law office on the corner of my parents’ street, where I would begin the path of disillusionment toward the profession in general. I was still living at home and had been seeing J for almost three years.
5 Things On My To-Do List Today:
• Catch up on blogs I love and find new ones to fall in love with.
• Clean. The. House. The BBQ is on Saturday and I haven’t so much as picked up a stray sock since Wednesday, when I began to feel sick.
• Make a menu plan for Saturday. We had one. Then we changed it. And again.
• Continue to encourage Peanut to use the potty.
• Get new batteries for the new camera and take more photos of the visiting nephews.
Snacks I Enjoy:
Let me tell you something about myself. I don’t do diets. I love myself and food too much to deprive myself of something that gives me such joy. Let me tell you something else. I’m not one of those women who can say “I can eat anything and not get fat! It’s in the genes!” and gracefully ignore the raging glares from other women. I’m not that woman, but don’t I wish. And, no Mother, I cannot still fit into my size four wedding dress. My secret is moderation. Without it, I’d be the size of a house. Because snacks I enjoy would entail everything from chocolate covered raisins to cupcakes to Doritos and cheese popcorn. I once stood in line at Garrett’s in Chicago for an hour in thirty degree weather for their famous popcorn. I’ve never met a snack I didn’t like.
Things I Would Do If I Were A Billionaire:
• Cry tears of joy.
• Hide.
• Pay off all of our debt and that of our family and close friends (stole this from you Deb.)
• Hire a moving truck for Arisa and Amanda to pack up their family and move home.
• Begin the search for our family compound. And we would have a compound. That’s how close we are. The compound would include four separate houses, a large pond, a central activity/play/entertainment area, a pool and several golf carts because the houses are going to be just far enough away so we don’t drive each other nuts.
• Establish a trust fund for my children, my niece (?), nephews and godchildren.
• Create a scholarship program for students from my high school that attend Michigan State University.
• Buy a navy blue M6. Not very practical for a mother of young twins but hey, I’m a billionaire. I’ll get another car.
• Take the love of my life on a much needed, much deserved two week vacation to some distant, tropical, fabulous island.
• Volunteer and donate to charities that mean a lot to me.
• Really, I could go on and on with this but you’re starting to get bored, I’m sure.
Places I Have Lived:
• Selfridge ANG Base
• Germany
• Bangkok, Thailand
• Fredericksburg, Virginia
• Salinas, California
• Fort Ord, California
• East Lansing, Michigan
• Metro Detroit
Well. This only took up half of my remaining hour at work. Damn. So, like Deb, I’m not going to tag anyone, unless you’re bored, sick, waiting or tired. If so, you’re it. And let me know if you’ve done it so I can check in!
Painting
I’ve never been the crafty type. I am not an artist, I’ve given up on scrapbooking at least three times and the extent of my pottery experience is painting a mug at Plaster Playhouse. But Shawn inspired me to step out of my comfort zone of coloring (with washable markers) inside the lines and letting the girls get a little messy with some finger paints. Truth be told, I was looking for a way to keep the girls from the eighty-nine degree, 100% humidity back yard. Movies weren’t motivating them and they were tired of the playroom. So, I pulled out the paints, some sheets of paper and their paintbrushes.
Initially, the girls stayed on the paper. Audrey is as precise about her paint as she is about her markers. I think she was around twenty-eight months when she began coloring within the lines of a picture. Her attention to detail is amazing, and when she is working, she zones out completely. So, she began dabbing her paintbrush neatly into different colors and painting a portrait of polka-dots, making certain that she did not mix any of the paint colors.
Meanwhile, Maggie had tossed her paintbrush aside for a more convenient tool. Fingers. Soon enough, she had mixed all the colors of her palette until it was a wet mess of brown. She plopped her hands on the paper for a bit but soon became bored with this form of art. So, she squished her fingers together and giggled at the sounds of the paint oozing through her hands and onto her bare legs. Once there, the floodgates were opened. By the time she was done, Maggie had painted most of each arm, her belly and the bottoms of her feet. When Audrey spied what Maggie was doing on the other side of the table, she shook her head in disbelief and continued to quietly paint. But Maggie and I coaxed her to try it too and so she took her paintbrush and gently dabbed a bit on her arm. And then some more. And still more.
When I announced that it was time for a bath, both girls protested. They were having too much fun and they didn’t want it to end any time soon. But I knew if I didn’t put an end to it now, my Beans wouldn’t be the only things covered in paint in the kitchen. Thanks again to Shawn for suggesting this activity. I will definitely come back to it to fight the boredom (and the heat).
Motivation or a Sad, Sad Cry for Help?
Day 1 was easy. Except for the Fed Ex guy bringing my shoes from Endless which, of course, I had to try on in the middle of the twenty minute workout. They are for the wedding, after all, which is why I made this painful ultimatum to myself. Trying to walk in 3.5 inch heels are, in itself, a workout. But trying to fit into this is what’s at stake here.
Oh, and except for two Beans who insisted on participating and barking orders like, "Lift your head up Momma! Like her!" and "Kick harder Momma! Like this!"
We’ll see how it goes. Either I’ll be posting, reading and shopping on the Internet to my heart’s content or my sweet Delly will wander the days lonesome for a warm touch and a willing lap. At least, by making my ultimatum to myself public, I’m a little accountable, right?
Let’s hope so. Ten pounds to go.
Promises
Pie, still reeling from that damn whale, has finagled a new routine of pre-bed bedtime out of me, where both Beans crawl into our bed, I put on the symphonies channel on Sirius and they drift to sleep in the safety of our room. It’s been a little over a week now and every night at around 11:00 p.m., J and I trudge up to our bedroom to collect the thieves of the cool sheets (which, let’s be honest, are the best thing ever!) and return them to their cribs.
Last night, I had to run upstairs twice, all the while muttering the decision to go with the colonial over the ranch, when I overheard the girls pushing and shoving each other off the bed. I gave them each a stern talking to, reminding them that, just because they were in our room, doesn’t mean it isn’t bedtime. Same thing, different room, Girls. By the third trip, I was tired and fed up with the shenanigans. I flipped off the music, took the stuffies away and demanded silence and sleep. Then, I turned and left, leaving behind kicks and wails of protest. Finally, things settled down and I stopped hearing whispers and began to hear the soft snoring Pie and the faint rattle of Peanut’s breath. I settled in to my newest book, while J worked on the laptop in the basement. Soon, my eyes began drooping and not even the sound of the Tigers tying up the game could keep me from nodding off.
Until, just before eleven, I heard a crash and a wail. I sat straight up on the couch, wondering if I imagined it. The crying intensified and I flew, quicker than I ever had, up the stairs. I found Peanut laying in a crumpled heap of sheets on the floor beside the bed, eyes closed, head in hand, moaning, “Momma! Momma! Momma!”
I gathered her up into me and shushed her. I asked her where her boo boos were and peppered kisses along her forehead and on her elbow, at her direction. I held her up and looked into her face to ask her if she was okay after all, but she was still sleeping. And still chanting my name. My name. Momma, momma, momma. She wouldn’t stop right away and my heart broke at the haunting way that she called to me.
“Shhh, shhh. Baby, I’m here. I’m here. You’re okay.” I kissed her head again and held her tighter to convey that she was safe with me, and to apologize for allowing her to be injured. I wanted to wake her to make sure she was okay, to verify that she didn’t hit her head just the right way and had a worse ailment than a bumped elbow and head. Tears formed in my eyes, listening to her cry out to me in her sleep, so I kept rocking her until her chant became a whisper and she weakly pulled from me to lay on the bed that she knew was near. I watched her until her brow relaxed and her breathing regulated.
I thought about my family and friends who don’t have their mother to run to them when they are needed, through distance, through death, through a horrible misunderstanding. I thought about my mother and how she was half way around the world when her mother died. And how she was half way across the country when my sister’s daughter passed away. And how blessed I am to be four miles away from her, to leave my children in her loving arms while I am away. To still have her chide me for my clothing and food choices. To be nearby when I fall. We’ve had our differences, but in the end, I’m still her little girl. And with those thoughts, I gathered Peanut up for one last hug and moved on to her sister, oblivious to the accident, and ran my fingers through her hair and whispered the promise that I would always be nearby.
Winner of the Mother of the Week Award
Not Momma Bean who, whilst attempting a new recipe, failed to allow enough time for the wine to reduce and quite possibly served her Beans alcohol for dinner.*
That being said, the Beans ate better than usual and J gave the new dish 8.5/10. Sounds like we’ll be getting our drink on during every meal!
*It should be noted that no Bean was harmed during the making of this dinner.
Just a little bit of randomness…
1. I was the receipient of free coffee yesterday and today! MIL gave me a coupon for free iced coffee at Starbucks every Wednesday for a month. Yes!! It’s only a tall, but Starbucks girl and I are thick as theives (or she sees the desperation in my eyes) so she upgrades me to a grande with hazelnut for nothing but a smile. And today I stopped at the new drive-thru (I wept tears of joy at that) Beaner’s to pick up my free opening week coffee. Tastes a little burnt, but it’s caffeine. It’s the little things, people.
2. Yesterday, the Beans and I did a little shopping and we did not come back empty handed. I’m a sucker for clothing coupons and I spend them as fast as I get them. And the Disney Store was having a killer sale. Princess sunglasses - check. Princess jams - check. I also purchased a dress for a couple of upcoming weddings. If anyone needs a boost of self-confidence and encouragement, I’ll rent out a Bean at a reasonable hourly rate. Every time I donned a new dress, they oohed and ahhed as if they were watching Heidi Klum herself, strutting down the runway. You can never get enough of, “You’re so beautiful, Momma,” even when you’ve got your hair pulled back, you’re in an old MSU shirt and torn jeans and you know better.
3. The Pie has lovely eyes. I always ask to see them and she responds by batting her long lashes (inherited from J, thankfully) and scrunching her nose. Yesterday, when I asked to see them, she frowned at me and said, “I don’t want green eyes Momma. I want brown eyes, just like you.” And yes. I cried.
4. And lastly…Peanut is still not potty-trained. And, frankly, I haven’t tried. Pie is done and done and I’m thrilled but I don’t have the energy for the battle. I know it’s all a power trip. Peanut knows what she is doing and will actually tell me while she’s in the process. She runs to the bathroom with Pie and is her personal cheerleader, hugging her as she sits on the toilet and reminding me that Pie gets a reward for her business. But, when I ask her (half-heartedly), she just shakes her head no and responds, “Maybe tomorrow.” I keep telling myself that one day, I’ll look for her and she’ll shout from the bathroom, “I’m going pee, Mom!” Right? Right?!?!?
Dear Whale,
You really scared the Pie, you know that, Whale? When she woke in the morning, she told us that you spent the evening in her room. At first, she was brave and all business. Her bottom lip began to quiver when she told us about the cage you put her in. In the beginning we thought it was just her active, vibrant imagination. But when I went to leave for work in the morning, she clung to me and asked me what I dreamt about. Surely I couldn’t leave her if I had been a party to such an unpleasant night.
I told her that I dreamt of the zoo and of picnics in the park with my girls. I dreamt of planting flowers and running through sprinklers. I saw ice cream cones and I chased our dogs. I told her that everything was wonderful in my dreams because she was in them. That didn’t help. J took her and she wrapped her arms around him and when he asked her what she wanted to dream about, she said, “My daddy.” I cried.
A little later in the day, I called Mom to see if the topic was brought up again. She assured me that Pie was fine and hadn’t mentioned a thing about you, Whale. But when I arrived at the house a couple of hours later, Mom confirmed to me that Pie was still disturbed by what had occured the night before.
As it neared bedtime and we commenced our nightly routine, I could see Pie getting more and more anxious. I promised her that I was nearby and would never let anything happen to her. I told her that you had gone and would never return. I invited J to search the nursery to verify that fact. She burst into tears, angry that we were subjecting her to the same fate as the night before, worried that you’d return with your cage.
It was her first nightmare, Whale, and apparently it was a doozy. I couldn’t send her back to the room, though I may have done more damage than I meant to. Instead, I gathered their blankets and let them sleep on our bed. Even that wasn’t consolation enough. When I went to kiss her goodnight, Pie grabbed my hand and pulled her toward me, tears in check but still on the verge of escaping. I curled up next to her and whispered promises that everything would be okay. Finally, her grip loosened a bit and I slipped away. When I turned to make sure she was asleep, she was looking at me. Lips still quivering, but eyes heavy and far away. Then she closed her eyes and turned into her sleeping sister. I wanted to crawl back into the bed with her but I thought the better of it.
When it was time for J and I to call it a night, I gently lifted each girl and placed them into their cribs. Neither stirred but I still whispered, “It’s okay. I’m here. Sweet dreams. Happy thoughts,” in the hopes that she’d hear me and steer her dreaming to something peaceful.
When she awoke this morning, I held my breath waiting to hear if you had broken my promises to her and returned in the middle of the night. Thankfully, she did not speak about you again, but she did mention that she was in her bed last night instead of mine. The tinge of sadness in her voice made me worry that she felt that I had abandoned her to be snatched up again by you. But then she hugged me tight and kissed me goodbye and I was forgiven just like that.
Please Whale, don’t make me a liar. Leave her alone and take your boogeyman and ghost friends with you. Keep the shadows away and don’t make her fall into thin air. Let her dream of puppies and sunshine and of her daddy. Go away.
Yours truly,
MB
‘Cause she’s my bess fwend!
Peanut: “Push me high-ER Momma! High-ER!”
MB: “Okay, Bear.”
Peanut: “Oh! I love it! I love to swing!”
Pie: “Don’t do dat, Momma.”
MB: “Don’t do what, honey?”
Pie: “Don’t swing her so high. Be careful.”
MB: “She’s fine, Pie. Look! She likes it!”
Pie: “No, Momma. You gotta be careful. ‘Cause she’s my bess fwend.”
And with that, my heart leapt and my eyes glistened in the sight of true love.
Can I get a collective “Yippee!!!!”
I may be speaking too soon…but it’s been over a week…and…
The Pie is potty-trained!
I’m not a failure after all!
One down, one to go. And Peanut isn’t going down without a fight.
I’m gonna just revel in this one for several days so that I can muster up the courage to deal with A.
Hooray!!
Winner of the Father of the Year Award
Three years running…
He thought it would be hard, but nothing in his life came easier than this.
Happy Father’s Day, my sweet boy.
The one where I admit I am to blame.
I’ve tried stickers.
I’ve tried bubbles.
I’ve tried M&Ms.
I bought big girl undies.
In all different shades and characters.
I’ve promised school.
I’ve promised big girl beds.
Nothing is working!
Nothing!
I’m at my wit’s end. I don’t know what to do.
Actually. I do. It’s my fault. My procrastination and laziness has been the weak link in this project.
This weekend, we had several accidents on the carpet in our living room. Peanut withheld for a day and then woke in the middle of the night, announcing her accomplishment by shouting into the dark, “Change my diaper please!” Pie regressed. Where she had before been exemplary at doing #1 in the potty, she was found clueless, uninterested and damp several times throughout the weekend. I admit, I only half-assed it. We were supposed to stay home all weekend, but balmy weather and restless Beans meant that we weren’t happy sitting at home and waiting for the Potty-fairy to work her magic.
Last night, we had what I think was a small success. Peanut, who was the one that wouldn’t even place her bum on the potty, went. J and I were initially unsure if it was bathwater or actual pee that poured itself into the toilet. I choose to think it was the latter and so I rewarded Peanut with a few minutes on the deck with the bottle of bubbles.
I think I was a little too cocky, going into this adventure. After all, these were the girls that were sleeping through the night by nine weeks and that kicked the bottle and the pipe by fourteen months. Maybe I thought this would go just as smoothly. So far, I haven’t really had to work at this motherhood thing. I mean, aside from the daily chores and physical and mental exhaustion and all that, I can honestly say that motherhood has been a lot easier for me than I ever anticipated. I’ve been blessed with two very easy-going, quick learning children. I never had to struggle with colic, we had few colds and illnesses compared to my friends’ children. I didn’t have sleep issues and, because of their low weight, I have been lucky to be able to feed them anything and everything within reason, in order to increase their caloric intake. Life couldn’t be easier, having these two for children.
So, maybe I thought that potty-training would go just as easily. Maybe I assumed that we’d glide through this as we have through other milestones. Whatever it is, I am now in the grips of my first breakdown of motherhood. So, here’s me, taking the blame. Realizing it’s my fault. Figuring out that I actually have to work at this. And, here’s the thing: I’m going to be better; I’m going to stop giving the girls mixed signals; I’m going to stop starting and stopping and confusing them altogether; I’m going to be patient and understanding and I’m going to accept that this isn’t going to just happen without work.
And then, when they are fully potty-trained, I’m going to take my diaper money and buy myself a great bottle of wine.
An umbrella shouldn’t be so pretty…
otherwise you’ll want it to rain all day long.
Bedtime. Lately.
7:45 p.m.: One last cup of milk for the Beans, to get an extra dose of calories into them.
8:10 p.m.: Fishy time. A’s nightly date with the nebulizer.
8:15 p.m.: The Pie, sensing what is looming, looks out the window and protests, “But it’s not dark out yet!”
8:16 p.m. to 8:21 p.m.: J and I, on the floor of the living room, try to coax, threaten, bully and plead with the Beans to “get over here now and get your jammies on”!
8:22 p.m.: I look at the clock and remind J that it is almost past their bedtime.*
8:23 p.m. to 8:28 p.m.: I get into a tickle war with Pie and J gives me the, “I thought we were supposed to calm them down and not get them riled up,” look.
8:29 p.m. to 8:39 p.m.: Teeth-brushing time, complete with singing the song that J has repeatedly informed me is technically incorrect and possibly dangerous:
Brushing your teeth all day long,
Makes your teeth big and strong.
Brushing your teeth every day,
Makes those cavities go away.
Hey, it works. Whatever.
8:40 p.m. to 8:43 p.m.: The search for both Duckies and both Cookies. One night, this is going to end in disaster.
8:44 p.m. to 8:54 p.m.: Finally in the nursery, I settle down on the floor with the Beans to read a story, while J refills the humidifier.
8:55 p.m. to 9:00 9:05 p.m.: The Beans hug and kiss. J and I give hugs, kisses and a boop** to each girl, and then switch. Then each girl demands a high five.
Then a kiss from Avery.
Then we convince them that Max is too heavy to lift into the crib.
Then we leave, only to hear A call out softly, “Momma?”
“Yes, Audie?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too baby. Go to sleep.”
“But Momma?”
“Aud!”
“I love you! And I love my daddy.”
“We love you too…”
“Momma!”
“Mag-”
“What you doing?”
“Go to bed Maggie! Talk to your sister if you don’t want to sleep!”
“Okay Momma. Daddy?”
…
…
…
“Daahhh-deeeee!”
9:06 p.m.: Finally.
*We tell everyone that their bedtime is 8:30 p.m. It used to be. Now it’s just a goal that we hope to reach again one day.
**From “Superbad”. Don’t ask.
My Free Day
On Saturday, I had what I haven’t had in over two and a half years. A day to myself.
Last year, J and I went on vacation without the Beans, but I still had obligations. I was still required to care for someone. Occasionally, I get a chance to catch up with friends, but I may bring the girls along.
But this day…this day was mine to do whatever I wanted. Earlier in the week, my parents informed me that they’d be taking the Beans to a friend’s new ice cream shop and then to the park. That’s what they do. They take my children and I’m welcome to come along if I like. This time, I said no. This Saturday was also J’s required Saturday to work, so I was going to be all alone until 5:00 p.m. My toes curled in anticipation!
I dropped the girls off at my parents’ in the morning after we saw J off to work. They asked again if I’d like to come along and I shook my head a little too hard, I think. This day was mine! I told J and myself that I would use it to give the house a much needed spring cleaning and I repeated the prepared speech to my parents as I skipped out of their house, barely stopping to plant light kisses on the tops of my Beans’ heads. Beans who had already dismissed me and were busy convincing their grandparents that they should leave for ice cream immediately.
When I got in the car and turned my mix from the iPod on, I sighed. Free. For the day at least. I thought about what I would do next. Did I really want a nap at 11:00 a.m.? Maybe. Instead, I drove over to Starbucks and indulged in an iced coffee. After that, I wandered over to the mall to get my eyebrows waxed and return an outfit that I had planned on wearing to Tracy’s shower. When I arrived at the salon, I was told that there was a half hour wait. Pfft! I’m waiting for no one today! It’s my day. I tried on a couple of tops without having to crawl under dressing room doors to find one girl or to shush another who is about to shout something inappropriate [Side note: This has been happening a lot lately! Example: When seeing an elderly woman walking towards us at Costco, Maggie exclaimed, “Look at that angry face, Momma!”] and I walked right by Children’s Place without a moment’s thought. And, I bought something! For myself!
After the mall, I drove over to the nursery just up the street from our house. I wandered slowly up and down the aisles, trying to determine which species of flowers I wouldn’t kill the quickest. I smiled as exasperated parents ran after mischievous children. I picked out four flats, waited in a ridiculously long line and finally made it home with my purchases.
I knew the girls would be upset if I didn’t save some impatiens for them to plant, so I spent most of the remaining part of my day planting the flowers around the deck. Without interruption. Every once in awhile, I stood back and admired my work, sure that I would never have been able to get so much done with Beans and J around.
Satisfied with my gardening, I collapsed on the couch to give Max and Avery some much needed puppy love. Too soon, the phone rang and my dad informed me that they were home and the girls were hungry. For food, for me and for J. I lingered around the house a little longer than I needed to and then made my way back to my parents’ house. The girls were happy to see me and to tell me about their day. They didn’t miss me one bit.
I didn’t tell anyone that my eyes welled up a little on the escalator at the mall. Behind a little girl and her mom, I eavesdropped as they discussed plans to meet up with her daddy for lunch. And, I didn’t tell anyone that my final decision on flowers were the Jelly Bean mix of petunias because of their appropriate name and because they contained both blue and yellow flowers. M&A will tell anyone who wants to know that their favorite colors are blue and yellow, respectively. And, finally, I didn’t tell anyone that, as nice as it was to spend the day alone and free of responsibility, I’d really rather spend it wiping sticky faces, chasing runaways, sharing iPods and just plain being with my Beans.
