"every time you go away...

.... you take a piece of me with you." Sing along, folks! You know you remember this old Paul Young song.

No, I'm not going to write another post (yet) about a song, it was just an appropriate title for me today.

My children are not here. They have gone to stay with their Gramma L. The four of us went out to lunch yesterday, and Gramma took The Kiddos home with her, while I went home all by myself. Well, my husband is still here, technically, but he's been working. I get The Kiddos back tomorrow, don't worry.

What this means is that I will have had two whole nights and one whole day in my house with no children to care for. How strange. Of course, I had grand plans for all of the things I would get done. I think my plans were too ambitious. I only finished about half of the things on my list.

-I stripped the beds and washed all the bedding in The Kiddos' rooms
-I cleaned up the bookshelf and put away books that have been outgrown
-I cleaned up the toys and put away those that are not given much attention anymore
-I spent way too much time on the computer
-I watched Project Runway 3 times last night
-I went out to lunch with my husband

Here are some odd things I noticed about myself when I get to be myself. First of all, I'm not very good at just being Erika anymore. I seriously didn't know what to do with myself, hence all the projects I gave myself. What did I used to do before kids? I must have been very bored. There wasn't even the internet back then! LOL. There was the internet, but I didn't even have email, that's for sure.

Secondly, I am apparently a slob. If I am not cleaning up after The Kiddos, I guess I'm just not cleaning. I left all my dishes in the sink for a whole day. There were crumbs all over my counter tops. I slept until 10:30 a.m. and barely made the bed. I did take a shower (thank goodness), but not until 8:30 p.m.

Third, I'm boring now. I spent a good deal of time looking at the clock and saying things like "Hmmm... it's 5:00, if The Kiddos were here, I'd be making dinner". or "wow, 6:00 already, and look at me, not even starting the bath". "7:15! I'd be putting The Kiddos to bed now".

Good God, woman, THINK! What did you used to do before The Kiddos? What did you think about? What happened in your day? How did you spend your time?

If today is any indication, I apparently spent my time sleeping, eating, and entertaining myself with mindless things such as the E! Fashion Police, Emmy edition. Yes, I must have been very bored. I am glad to get The Kiddos back tomorrow.

hi-fives

The Boy is starting to potty train. Well, he has been starting to potty train for some time. He's in a lull, there's been no real progress since early July. In his defense, we're not really trying that hard. It's early yet. I won't worry about potty training unless it's still an issue when he's 4 (although I'm really hoping for 3).

Ever since this incident , The Boy has referred to tinkling in the potty as "making fountains". Silly boy. Silly, adorable little boy.

So, here's what's happening these days: The Boy will make a fountain in the potty without fail as long as he has no bottoms on what-so-ever. If he is wearing underwear, he doesn't always realize that he can't just let it all go right there as he would if it were a diaper. So, as long as he is nude:

1. he recognizes that he needs to go
2. he announces that he is on his way to going ("make fountain, mommy! make fountain!")
3. he goes
4. he wipes
5. he runs his naked bottom all over the house giving everyone a hi-five.

Could he be any cuter??!

these are days...

.... to remember. OK. I'm not a very huge 10,000 Maniacs fan or anything, but I do like that song. Here:

These are the days you'll remember. Never before and never since, I promise, will the whole world be warm as this. And as you feel it, you'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky. It's true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.

These are the days you'll remember. When May is rushing over you with desire to be part of the miracles you see in every hour. You'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky. It's true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.

These are days. These are the days you might fill with laughter until you break. These days you might feel a shaft of light make its way across your face. And when you do you'll know how it was meant to be. See the signs and know their meaning. It's true, you'll know how it was meant to be. Hear the signs and know they're speaking to you, to you.

See, when I was in college, this song was a hit. At least it was in my circles. I always liked this song, and at the time I imagined it was about being young, and learning to live on your own, finding yourself and your freedom, etc etc. And it was about all of that at the time.

Now when I hear it, it's like a whole new song. Now it's about having a family and cherishing the moments, the small things we might otherwise forget. It's funny how the same song can have different meaning for you at different times in your life.

This is why I started blogging. Not because of an enormous love for the 10,000 Maniacs, no.... but because these are the days. These days, right now, are the ones I want to remember. I want to document the small, silly things that happen as part of every day life. I'm pretty sure I'll remember baptisms and first communions, first steps and first words. But I don't want to forget the seemingly mundane: the silly arguments, The Boy running outside naked because he's too excited about his tricycle to be bothered with clothes. The sweet things The Babe will do to keep The Boy from being sad. The first time he said in his small sweet voice "Goodnight, Dizzy".

"you'll know it's true, that you are blessed and lucky". Thank you 10,000 Maniacs. I couldn't have said it better myself.

murmer

I don't know how many of you know that The Babe has a heart murmer. She was diagnosed with it while we were still in the hospital when she was born. She's had many tests done, and we go to the cardiologist every year for a check up. From everything I've been told, she has the most ideal kind of murmer, in type, size, and placement. So, yay! At her very first cardiologist visit, when she was one week old, they gave me a medical card to carry with me. The doctor explained to me that if The Babe were ever in an accident, needed surgery, or major dental work, that special precautions would need to be taken to prevent infection. Complications from said infection could be fatal, so I would always want to be sure medical professionals were aware of The Babe's condition.

The Babe is almost 5 years old now, and her murmer has never been a problem. Until today.

Today we saw the dentist. The Babe has been going to the dentist since she was 3. The first few times, they just poked around in her mouth a bit, but last time we went, they actually polished her teeth. So, we've had this appointment on the books for weeks now, and we've been talking it up. You know how it is with kids, you have to build them up to big things like this. About a week before any of her dentist appointments, we start talking very excitedly about how fun it is to go to the dentist, and we all practice making our best dentist faces, holding our mouths wide open for long periods of time. This madness works for us, and The Babe was very excited to go see the dentist today.

Because we had taken her to the dentist several times in the past, I was not even concerned about taking her today. Her murmer didn't even cross my mind, as certainly a routine cleaning does not qualify as major dental work. Wrong I was. At her very first visit to the dentist, back when she was 3, I had given them a copy of her medical card from the cardiologist to keep in their file. Glad I did. Apparently, the card says right on it (in medical speak) that The Babe needs to take an antibiotic an hour before routine dental cleanings in order to prevent the possible dreaded infection. I guess it's right there, you just have to speak medical-ese to understand it. This was never an issue before, because the most the dentist ever did was polish her teeth, but today they were planning to clean them with the metal tools and everything. So, we were a no-go.

I was worried that The Babe would be terribly disappointed, but our wonderful dentist understands kids very well. I've actually been seeing him since I was a kid myself. He looked in The Babe's mouth for a bit, told her how beautiful and perfect her teeth are, and gave her the usual goody bag with a new toothbrush and flosser. Thank goodness he's so good with the kids.

I, on the other had, felt like a total dumbass. I had brought my child to her doom without even knowing it. I know that's dramatic, and it wasn't that bad. Thank goodness the dental hygenist was on her game and read that card. But, I still felt stupid for not realizing that today would be a problem. Nice parent I am.

The plan now is that I need to speak to her cardiologist at her next visit (coming up!) and get updated written instructions on what is necessary before she has her teeth cleaned. If an antibiotic is needed, I need to have a scrip written so I can give her the dose an hour ahead of her appointments. The up side of this (I guess), is that the dentist is of the opinion that if the antibiotic is needed, her dental visits should be limited as a child. He doesn't want her to build up an immunity to the antibiotic as a child, because apparently it will be far more important when she is older... so, he says he'll only want to see her once a year, rather than every 6 months. He even said that depending on her teeth, he may only want to see her once every 2 years. So, at least there's that, for her.

guilt

One of my oldest friends is hosting a "Girl's Weekend" at her summer cottage about 2 hours away. When I got the invite, I knew I wanted to go. I love my kids, I love my husband, but I need to get away with the girls.

"The Girls" consists of a group of us, I'd say 10-15 of us, depending who can make it, who have been friends since at least college years, some even since high school. Some are married with children, like me. Some are married but no kids, and some are still living the single life. We're a diverse group, and we always have a good time. So, yeah, I am itching to get away on this girl weekend. I've been excited about it since the dates were announced.

The planning that goes into me getting away can be a little overwhelming. I'll have to leave a good amount of instruction for my husband (and a separate set for the kids, LOL). We don't have a second car right now, so I need to catch a ride with a friend. We're leaving Friday afternoon, which should be fine, but I need to be home no later than 10:00 am on Sunday morning so my husband can get to work. So, even though I totally deserve this little weekend away, I'm already feeling guilty.

I feel guilty about leaving my husband with the kids all weekend. I feel guilty leaving the kids with just my husband. I feel like I will miss something, and they will miss me, and oh, how selfish of me to want to get away for less than 48 hours! I know it's ridiculous, and it certainly isn't going to stop me from going, but there it is. The Mommy Guilt. Every mother has it.

So today, we get a letter from The Babe's preschool announcing which classroom she is in and giving details on the fall schedule. The day I leave for my guilt-ridden, selfish mommy weekend away with the girls is the First Day of School. As if I didn't already feel bad enough.

*sigh* Repeat after me: "I deserve to get away, I deserve to get away, I deserve to get away". Maybe I'll actually believe it myself if I say it enough times.

little house

When I was a girl, I read all the "Little House" books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Well, I read all of them except Farmer Boy. Almanzo never did interest me too much. I don't know exactly how I got into reading, I was too young to remember the details. But, I do remember doing a lot of reading as a kid. Not just the "Little House" books, either. Lots and lots of books... from Go Dog, Go to Little House to Encyclopedia Brown, Beverly Cleary, Judy Blume, and Nancy Drew and Choose Your Own Adventure.... la la la and the list goes on.

So, how do you get your kids interested in reading? Conventional wisdom says that you do it by reading to them starting at a very young age. Well, we've been doing that, and I do think it works. My kids are certainly interested in books. The Babe's favorite book these days is the big book of Curious George stories, but only when I can convince her that we should read a story and not just a letter from the Sesame Street Dictionary. I don't know how much more I can take of that one.

So, out of sheer boredom on my part, and a desire to get The Babe interested in other books besides just those two, I took a trip to the library and came home with the first book in the "Little House" series: Little House in the Big Woods. The Babe and I read a chapter each day while The Boy is napping, and we have almost finished the book - - just one more chapter to go. I was worried about this at first, because these books do not have many pictures, and I wasn't sure if The Babe, at 4.5 years old, was ready for this. I needn't have worried. She looks forward to our "chapter book" as she calls it, and I am enjoying re-reading the same stories I must have read 100 times over when I was a girl.

I hope my plan works, and The Babe learns to love reading. We shall see.

"see me, mommy!"

When they're young, and just learning, little kids speak their own language. Of course, there's the baby nonsense, and then comes the jibberish where it seems your child knows exactly what he's trying to tell you, but since none of it is in English, you can't understand. Next come the single word phrases, repeated over and over until the child gets what they want: "milk. milk. milk milk milk? MILK MILK!" Then the fragmented sentences are always fun. But the phase I am enjoying with The Boy right now is one of my favorites. It's the "Speaking English But Have My Phrases All Wrong" phase.

Today The Boy found a long lost pretend cell phone that plays music when you push the buttons. Some buttons simply beep, but some buttons make entire songs play, and The Boy dances. Now, The Boy doesn't dance like you or I might dance. What he does is skip/run around in a big circle (somewhat in rhythym with the music). He'll take up as much space as is available to make his circle, and when the song ends, he likes to end his dance by landing with a thud on his knees.

The Boy loves to dance, and he wants an audience. In between each song, he asks me to watch him, only that's not what he actually says. "See me, Mommy! Mommy, see me, please!" It's so cute.

My next favorite wording of his is how everything is kind of in the past tense, but not quite right. "My bowl felled" "I felled and hitted my mouth". I am always a little sad when they start speaking better English because it's much less fun.

Of course, it will be a while before I have to worry about it. The Babe still doesn't have it all quite right. She calls being without clothes "nakedless". I am sure she's confusing 'Naked' and 'topless', for example; but no matter how hard I try to explain that being "nakedless" would mean you were "without naked", meaning you would have clothes on... so therefore "nakedless" is the exact opposite of what she is trying to convey.... oy! I give myself a headache, no wonder she doesn't get it yet......

hide and seek

Today I walked into the kitchen as The Babe was standing, face to the wall, hands over her eyes, counting to 100. When she got to 100, she called out "Here I come!" and ran off.

I look at DH, and quietly ask who is she playing with? Seriously, The Boy is in his nap, and she's obviously not playing with either one of us... so? I knew the answer already, of course. The Babe was playing hide and seek with on of her many pretend friends (they're not imaginary, mind you, they're pretend. She'll correct you every time).

So, I kind of laugh about it, and DH answers my question of with whom she is playing: "I don't know, but I bet they're hard to find". LOL.

concerned for her future

Tonight, while eating dinner, The Babe informed me that she's hot. "Mommy, I'm hot. I need to take my shirt off." While it's not as though that's a very common request around these parts, we're not the kind of family that really cares about naked. "Sure, honey, take your shirt off." I'm thinking, what difference does it make? Just take your shirt off and eat your pasta.

Both of my children routinely parade around the house in various stages of dress and undress at all times of the day. They're little, who cares? If they're still behaving this way in mixed company while in their teens, I might start to worry. That's what I thought. But here I am today, concerned for her future.

The Babe took her shirt off, and proceeded to parade all around the kitchen.

"I'm topless! I'm topless! Look at me! I'm topless!"

Hmmmm....