When your bathtub becomes a battleground

I think that sounds like a great book title.

Tonight is as good a night as any to let you inside the chaos that is my marriage.
Yes, you can keep reading - it's not about the 'dirty laundry' - this laundry is actually quite clean.

I do my laundry. And like kj, I am allergic to putting it away.
After you do all the work to sort it, wash it, dry it, sort it again, fold it, yada yada yada - I cannot seem to bring myself to put it away.

His, that is.

I put the kids' away. I put mine away. I put the bathroom and kitchen laundry away. I even put his laundry that goes into drawers away. But whenever I think about opening his closet door, I just simply cannot.

I think to myself, 'It will only take 5 minutes of his time. Surely he can do that...'
Then I dump it neatly in the bathtub and walk away.
I ask him when he gets home to "put it away when you get the chance."
He says he will.
I ask him in the same sweet tone of voice to put his laundry away every day for the next few weeks.
He says he will - never changing his tone either.

We civilly, silently, and passively 'argue' over whose job it is to put away his laundry for weeks that turn into months. Until one day, somebody gives in.

I have always been that somebody.

In earlier years of our marriage, I did this menial task without so much as grumbling on most days. Now that I am a bit more sturdy in my beliefs about household chore sharing, I have grown the proverbial 'laundry putting away' backbone. You hadn't heard of such a backbone?
Oh yes, it does exist - and I am the proud new owner of one!

So I stand before you today, a woman with a new badge.
I was not the "somebody who gave in" for the first time in our marriage.

He put his laundry away.
After a month and a half.

I have finally outlasted him.
At least with regard to clean laundry.

Rodeo.

One down - One to go.
The rodeo at school went fine. Not Great, but fine.

Tomorrow Chris and I are going to try to take our kids to the fairgrounds.
Is it awful for me to say that after living here all these years, I don't know anything about our rodeo?
Well, I don't.
I did, however, get a brand new pair of boots yesterday.
Yes, crys, I got 'em. I understand that this compromises our friendship in countless ways ;)
I do love my boots though - and I am not sure that you will find me without them for a while.

J. also got a hat and boots. Apparently, Chris was a little cowboy back in the day - so we have some of his old Western shirts and his old belt with the last name on the back of it. The best part is the GIANT buffalo buckle on the belt!!
He and I are pretty smitten with our new boots!
Looks like the rodeo is going to get a dose of style tomorrow!

Back in the saddle... again.

I would wager that there have been many posts titled this way - but today it seems especially appropriate.
Tomorrow is our annual "rodeo" at school. It could be described as a music program, but more harrowing.
During THIS program, 90-odd preschoolers and Kindergartners must gallop into the gymnasium on the various and sundry stick-horses they have (or have not) created at home.

We sing songs and *as a special addition to this year's program* Ms. Smarty-Pants Music Teacher decided that it would be cute to end it by scootin' a boot to the Cotton Eyed Joe.
The only version devoid of foul language that I could locate ends up clocking in at a whopping 4 minutes and 22 seconds long. Let me tell you, it doesn't sound that bad - until you remember the ages of the children in question and factor in their coordination.

Picture 90 'shannons' doing their rendition of the Cotton Eyed Joe.... Sorry to sell you out like that, sis. But it's true...

They fall all over the place. They look like little bowling pins knocking each other down. And unlike 90-something 'shannons', they don't laugh it off. Each one expects you to rush over to them, scoop them up, and offer them a Boo-boo bear to make it better. It's a nightmare.

By the end of nearly 4 and a half minutes, I am frothing like an old mare that got spooked out on the trail.

Usually at the culmination of this motley rodeo, there will be dead sequins, partial boas, half-crushed googly eyes, yarn 'mane' remains, and dismembered stick-horses splattered all over the gym floor. A gruesome sight, for sure.

The parents of the Cowpokes are usually so enamored with the "Cute Factor" that I come out on the other side relatively intact.

So "back in the saddle again" is right. Maybe next year, I'll have the foresight to call in sick...

Knowing.

A fellow teacher walked up to me today and asked, "So have you begun the 'waking up tired every day, no matter how much sleep you get' phase of the school year yet?"
I was validated by her line of questioning.
We all feel that way, don't we?
It just becomes so much more bearable when you know you're suffering together.

So much going on, so little to say.

Tomorrow is Friday. Hold the applause.

Tomorrow J. is going on a field trip to the rodeo fairgrounds.
I have to work, as I have no remaining sick days - so DH has the day off work and has decided to go with him. I think that is sweet. I'll probably think of my two buckeroos there while I am at preschool. Yeah, let me tell ya...

Also, I am going with meems to wichita falls this weekend. Uh-huh. Very exciting!
I am going to get to see baby Joshua, and his Mommy - who is one of my most favoritest people!
Not to mention, the purpose of the trip to begin with is to help a dear friend get her new business rolling. I think it's actually already doing well but I like to take all the credit I can get...
I think we will have a great time while we are 'working' :)

Also, my sister is going to drive to hang out with us!

Could this get any more exciting?

My parents are going to watch the kids.
I am going to have girl time all weekend with meems, la, and sisser!
What a cool dealio!

One other earth shattering thing that happened - my parents' offer on a house TEN BLOCKS AWAY from my house was accepted this week. If I have to go back to work full time next year, they are going to take up my 'mommy slack' and help with getting the kids to-and-fro giving them lots of grandparent love all the while. How blessed we are!

Got Bugs?

If you haven't talked to me in the last few days, it would be important to note that we have had a stomach bug.
And when I say, "we" I mean, "I."
Sort of...
(Seph - you need to ask Landon why this is funny...)

Sunday morning I woke up with amazing tummy trouble.
It proceeded throughout the day - to the point that, if C. hadn't been here, my kids would have had no reasonable level of care. I can only think of maybe two other times in motherhood that I was that violently ill.

Most of the day Sunday, Chris and I had to remind the kids why Mommy couldn't do __x__.
Or why Mommy couldn't hold them... Or why Mommy was sick.
We decided to use the term "tummy bug" when referring to my ailment.

Several times throughout the day A. would look down my shirt and say, "Where's the bug, Mommy?"

I would laugh and explain that it was too small to see and that it was inside my tummy.

In the middle of the night, as luck would have it, A. ended up getting sick too.
Quite sick.
This morning, after a really rough night, she woke up and said, "Mommy, I found your bug."

Hope

knowing that you don't know anything can be the beginning of faith.

sometimes praying that you stay right in His palm is the origin of peace.

there IS something around the bend worth hoping for, worth believing for.

God is not a man, that he should lie, nor a son of man, that he should change his mind. Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill? Numbers 23:19 (NIV)

I heart candy.

It's 6:52.
Do you know where your children are?
Mine are in bed.

In a related story, why does it seem that Valentine's Day brings more candy into your house than a Golden Ticket? Sweet Jesus, I am in candy overload mode!
I thought I would have to peel their sticky bodies off the walls, they were bouncing so!

I am with Julia and La on the construction paper artwork to show your devotion. Even if you did eat it, it wouldn't be devastating to life and limb...

I think next year I'll beat everyone to the punch and manufacture huge sugar cubes (reminiscent of a deer lick) and install one in my kitchen at about my waist level. That way - I could spare myself having to say - FIFTY TIMES A DAY, "You've had enough sugar." or "Did you just steal another piece of candy?" and "What is this candy wrapper doing in your closet if you didn't sneak another piece?" Or "Are you seriously eating one lollipop for each side of your mouth? Those sticks look like tusks, you goof!"

I have decided that there are two types of memories in life:
Childhood memories and Mom-ories.
Valentine's Day had so much more appeal back then...

Hope your Valentine's Day was a good one.

I will say that this Valentine's Day beats the one a few years ago when I didn't realize eating 4 or 5 pieces of "Sugar-Free" chocolates had the same effect as taking 6 boxes of Ex-Lax...
OY!
And you're welcome for the image...

Brownie Batter Beauty

Coffee addiction and its effect on your children.

Today at school, J's class came into my music class and I took one great big (much needed) gulp from my Monster Mug of coffee.
One of the students asked, "Is that coffee? My dad drinks coffee."
I said, "Yes, I gotta have my coffee."
Then J. stood up and said, "Yes, but coffee has caffiene and that has adverse side effects."
(Yes, verbatim.)
It tends to make me wonder what 'adverse side effects' he might be referring to...
Clearly, he's not familiar with the me sans caffiene.

Fickle layout girl.

I know that you are all sick of my switcheroo layouts.
Shan didn't like the last one.
Otherwise, I would not have had commitment issues.

Juevos Grandes.

The kids' bathroom toilet nearly just overflowed.
I stood there in horror, shouting at my comatose husband, "I need a plunger!!!"
I couldn't walk away from the toilet and take the chance that my very interested audience of 3 and 4-year olds would get too curious about the liquid pouring over the top of their commode.
So I stayed perched over the toilet and I kept saying, er shouting, "I need a plunger!!"

At that last moment when I could see the mixture of potty water and 'potty' bulging over the rim, but not yet spilling over the edge - I made a personal preference decision.

The choices: A.)let it spill over and clean all the flooring, rugs, hall carpeting, my kids again yada yada yada
OR B.) jam my arm all the way down in there and force the clog down in the style of a 'human plunger' while choking back my instinctive response to puke.

I chose B.
It worked.
I have detoxed my arm all the way to my elbow.

The end result? I am not currently bleaching the floors, baseboards, towels, rugs, or participating in any type of scrubbing. I did not have to re-bathe my kids. I will not have to steam clean my carpets. That, my friends, is called living without regret.

New capris.

I have been waiting until our tax return came in to buy a new pair of blue jean capris (That fit).
The return came today so off I went to Academy, the only place I like to buy full-price clothes.
I got home and tried them on - they actually looked great! Then I took the tags off and went outside to straighten my van up a bit because my parents needed to borrow it for the weekend.

In less than three minutes after I took the tags off, I had torn a hole in my new capris on the backseat of the van.
So disappointing.

Good thing my husband was so understanding about it. He said, "Well why'd you have to get all gussied up to clean out your van?"
Since when are jean capri pants classified as "gussied up?"
PUH-LEASE!

Chicken-counting.

Classic case of announcing news before you have verified it...
It is over!
You don't have to listen/read about any more certification tests.
I am done.
I took the information provided to me at the end of my test today regarding number of correct answers. Mathematically speaking, there is no other option. I passed.
You are cheering audibly right now - I know.
Me too.

The LOVE Doctor is in...

So during this month of Love, I have made some choices about how I am going to love.

• freely- without holding back
• passionately - without remembering a grudge
• tenderly- without a hint of being forced
• truly -exposing my underbelly
• deeply -as though my life depended on it

As freely as water pours over the edge of a cliff, I want love to flow forth from me.

Without even pausing for a moment to question the trade-off or the risk: I endeavor to love my husband, my children, my family, and my friends. Yes, even strangers. Harder still, to those who would gain from seeing me fall - my position will remain a loving one.

Beyond the obvious, I am going to work really hard at thinking loving thoughts when a horn honks next door at 2:30 in the am. When I get cut off in traffic - HA! traffic... When someone says something snide or catty, I want to resist the urge to jerk my knee. Turn the other cheek and plant a big fat smooch on theirs instead.

When I want nothing more than to have a moment to myself, but the world just keeps on turning - rather than 'frustrated' or 'overwhelmed', I want love to be my response.

It's all about love. And the LOVE Doctor is in...

Giant J.

He is now 4 years, 8 months.

He is big like a man. Too big to fit comfortably in my lap.

He scrunches up his body into a ball to sit in my lap.

His heart is pure gold. His mind is brilliant.

He's absolutely dreamy!

His language skills are probably better than mine.

He still says his Momma is his girlfriend.

Nothing makes him happier than a dirt pile, a bucket, and a stick.

He hates mashed potatoes and has yet to concede that bedtime is not negotiable.

If anyone ever figures everything out, it will be him.

He's reading small books with small words. He knows all the planets - in order.

He ran inside yesterday and said, "Mom, you have to see this! The bee is pollinating out here!!"

My sweet brilliant baby boy craves learning. I love that!

Little A.

She is now 3 years and 2 months old.

Her language skills are incredible. (She must get her chatterbox from her momma.)

What amazes me is her ability to portray empathy. She is soooo empathetic. And sweet. And lovey dovey.

She always asks me to lay down next to her when I tuck her in at night - then she stares at me with her big brown eyes. She's really the softest, most tender heart I know.

I love to watch her play Momma to her baby dolls. There may not be anything that makes her as excited as getting her fingernails 'done.'

Fashion is big for her at three years of age.

Her bubba is her best friend and she still uses her blankie (Ayee) every night and day. It is so tattered it probably needs to be thrown away, but I'll never do it!

She is my sweet princess.

When I imagine my doll, I see her stretching her arms into the air and saying, "Hold you..." in the prettiest-sounding voice ever.

My babies are gone.

My parents have my kids.
They took them so that I could study for tomorrow.
I am so lonely but I have managed to kick back 2 and a half good study hours since I got off work.
I am actually hoping for some quality time with my hunny tonight.
But only for a short while, then it's 'hit the books' again!

I miss my blogworld friends!

I did, however, commit to let blogging go until this hurdle was crested.

A lesson learned: Take exams pertaining to things learned in college right after college.

unofficial.

I received THE "unofficial" Scores back today.
I "unofficially" passed.
I am unofficially relieved.

Wednesday holds the other half of the exam.
We shall see...