no longer ashamed

Today I took the kids on a playdate with the children of one of my closest friends. The kids really do enjoy each other's company, but really the playdate is between me and my friend. We would do it even if the kids didn't get along, so BONUS for us that they do. She and her family just recently moved into a beautiful vintage victorian house in the absolute perfect location in the town in which we both grew up.

She and her husband are financially secure, and this house cost more than 2.5 times what mine did. I saw it on-line before she closed on it, and I knew instantly that I would love it. It is exactly the house I always dreamed about. Totally vintage, with all the details and the woodwork, and the beautiful leaded glass, but it's been re-habbed and is modern and beautiful to today's aesthetic as well. They moved into the new house in early January, and this was our first visit to the new place.

I was hesitant to go. I love my friend, and we always have a good time, but I didn't want to go see my dream house and have it not be mine. I was upset at myself for being so shallow... for letting myself feel like a "have not" when I truly do have so much. I was ashamed of myself for feeling this way, but I knew I couldn't put it off forever, so I went to the house.

You know what? It is beautiful. It is more than I thought it would be. There is so much more to it in person than the pictures ever could tell. It is completely my dream house, and I love it 1000%. You know what else? I did not, and still do not, feel one pang of jealousy. I actually found myself to be overcome with feelings of happiness for my friend. It's obvious that she loves that house, she is excited to be there, has so many plans.... and honestly, out of all the friends I have, I can't think of a single one who deserves good things more than she does. Just out of pure karma, I guess.... she's the one that I would root for in almost any contest.

I surprised myself today. I am no longer ashamed of myself. No, I will never own a house like that, and yes, it is still my dream house; no doubt about that. But my feelings of joy for my friend were so great that I didn't even think to be jealous, if that makes any sense.... I just feel so contented, and that's really something.

*my sticky shoe*

OK, that has nothing to do with anything really.... does anyone remember that episode of Friends in which Phoebe is sick, but she gets that sexy, sultry voice and she loves it (and she sings the 'sticky shoe' song during her gig at the coffee shop), so she tries to keep herself sick and is sad when she feels better?

Do you all think I am crazy now?

This is The Boy. He is sick. He has quite a bad cold, actually, and I feel sorry for him. Really I do. But he has this voice now. He has the sick, sultry, low, I really need to quit smoking 2 packs a day kind of voice, and it is cracking me up! I love his voice so much right now that I know how Phoebe must have felt. Part of me will be sad when he's all better.

Bad mommy, I know.....

five food things

I was tagged a while ago by HipMamaB to list five food oddities that I have... things about me and food that you might not know. I feel terrible that it has taken me so long to respond. I haven't been ignoring you, B! It's just that I am having a hard time thinking of anything interesting to say. I'll do my best.

1.) Mint. Chocolate Mint. I love chocolate mint. Anything chocolate mint. Enough said.

2.) I always think I will not like tuna salad, and I never ever make it for myself. But I always end up liking it when I am presented with it.

3.) The best french fries in the whole wide world come from Gene's and Jude's hot dog stand in River Grove, IL. They make them from real potatoes. They have a potato slicer on the wall, they pop a potato in, pull a lever, and fries come out the bottom. And the best part is that they fry them in real lard. Honest to goodness, I've seen them place a big, fat, white chunk of lard to melt in the fryer. MMMMmmmm... probably good that I moved far away.

4.) I have rediscovered oatmeal. I love strawberries & cream instant oatmeal.

5.) I drink at least 32 ounces of tea a day. Hot tea, now that it's cold; but iced tea in the summer. Hot tea is taken with sugar only. Iced tea should never have sugar, but lemon is really nice.

sick

Well, The Boy is sick. I'm still not sure of all the details because the worst of it has happened after bedtime. I'll know more tomorrow. Here's a cute story, though.

He was coughing a bit this evening before bed, and my ears perked up. The Babe has just gotten over a bronchitis, and has now relapsed into her cold; so the fact that The Boy was coughing was not lost on me. After he had awaken 3 separate times, and it was only 11:15 pm, I looked to see if I had any medicine I could give him. I have tons of cough medicine, mind you, from The Babe's bronchitis, but it is all formulated to her size and I am not comfortable giving it to The Boy. So, I searched and found some Tylenol Cold and Cough Infant Drops that do not expire until April. Yay!

I go into The Boy's room for the fourth time this evening, and I asked if he wanted some medicine to help him feel better. He nods yes, and opens his mouth right up. I gave him his 1.6 ml, and kiss him goodnight. He is looking very sleepy, and his eyes are rolling back into dreamland. He murmured something very quietly. I almost didn't hear him, and I'm not sure he knows he said it.

"My just love that medicine."

Poor little sweetie. I hope he feels better soon.

screening

Today the phone rang as The Boy and I were sitting at the desk together. I looked over and saw that it was an "Out of Area" call. As if I'm going to answer it. So, I just let it ring.

The Boy: Mommy, the phone!
Me: It's OK, we're not going to answer it.
The Boy: But Mommy! The phone!
Me: It's OK, don't worry about it.
The Boy: But it's ringing at you!!!

He made me pick it up, and I pretended to answer it, LOL. See honey? There's no one there. He was pretty happy with that. I didn't realize the phone was so important to him... he was so insistant! (or is it insistent?)

a break in the routine

I've mentioned before the bedtime routine around here. I'll recap (I wouldn't want all my new readers to be lost) ; ) The routine includes story time. We switch off in whose room we read, and who gets to pick the story. If we are reading in The Babe's room, then The Boy picks the book, and vice versa. Each night I read whatever the "chosen" book is, and Good Night Moon is always read after that, as a closer.

Without fail, there is a problem each night. If it is The Boy's turn to pick, The Babe pouts and whines because she does not like the story he has chosen. In her defense, he chooses the same story every time, and even I am quite tired of it. But, it is his choice... she can choose tomorrow. Also, The Boy has this strange habit of wanting to sit on the chosen book and "surprise" you with it. "What book did you pick? Oh, surprise! There it is! It's Happy Easter, Little Critter for the 8,756th time!" This sitting on the book thing irritates The Babe for some reason. I think it's because he insists on sitting on the book even if it's one she's chosen, and then it's like he's taking credit or some such nonsense that would only matter if you were 5 years old. If The Boy cannot sit on the book, there are meltdowns of massive proportions. So, he sits on the book. Every night.

Last night, it was The Boy's turn to choose, which meant that we would be reading in The Babe's room. When we got upstairs, however, we found that Cosmo the cat was sleeping on The Babe's bed. This is better than gold to The Babe. Cosmo is her all time favorite sleeping companion, and she thinks it's beyond special when he chooses to sleep by her. I like to encourage her fondness for the animals, and I appreciate how special this is for her. So, I quietly told her that maybe we can tell The Boy it's her turn to choose, so we can read in his room, therefore not disturb the cat, in the hopes that the cat will still sleep with The Babe at bedtime. I told The Babe we could give it a try, but that if The Boy remembers it's really his turn, then we have to let him have his turn. But, The Boy fell for it, and accepted the fact that it was The Babe's turn to choose and we will read in his room.

I walked in to The Boy's room and I asked The Babe what book she chose. She showed me. She picked the book... the one she always complains about, the one The Boy always picks. I was surprised, and she leaned over and very quietly she said "Since I stole his turn, mommy". Oh! She's so nice! The Boy was 1500 miles beyond surprised, he was elated! "Happy Easter, Little Critter!!!! Dizzy pick Happy Easter book!" He was just about glowing, the smile on his face was so bright. And then he surprised me, too. "You sit on it, Dizzy? Take it. You sit on it, OK?"

It's so silly and little, and probably doesn't make much sense. I hope I explained it well enough... it just made my night. *sigh*

she's all growns up

Ahhhh.... I love the movie Swingers, anyone else? Anyhow, no mom, that's not a type-o, it's from a movie... I know it's poor grammar.

The point is, The Babe is getting so big. In the past couple of weeks there have been two major incidents that have proven that fact to me, and I find I am just not ready.

The first incident came when The Babe announced that she thought it was time she have a hair cut. I have always kept her hair long. She has such lovely hair, always has, that we just kept it growing and growing and growing. She did not have her first haircut until after she was 3, not even one strand was touched before then. Since that time, we have always kept it long, at least mid-back. A couple of weeks ago, as it came close to her bottom, she decided she wanted it cut. I told her she could cut it however she chose, since she's 5 now. She's a big girl. This was a very difficult thing for me to let go of, but I was able to do it with the support of my friends. I know it's silly, but I didn't want to let go of her beautiful hair. Bottom line though, it's not my hair.

The Babe decided she wanted it pretty short, at least as far as I was concerned. I mentioned that if we were going to cut that much off, maybe we could donate it to Locks of Love, and we measured her hair. You need 10 inches to donate, and it turns out The Babe did not want to cut that much off. But, when we got to the salon, she changed her mind. We cut her hair shorter than we had planned because she had decided that she wanted a sick child to have hair to wear (as she puts it). Oh, it's so much shorter than I wanted, but how could I say no? What a wonderful thing she did! And you know what? Her new 'do is adorable. It makes her look a bit older, but I am not sure if I think that because she actually looks older physically, or if I now perceive her as older because she did such a giving, generous, and mature thing.

The second thing that proves to me that she's all growns up is that she is losing her first tooth. I was really not prepared for this! I thought that happens when they're, I don't know, 7 years old? Anyhow, not now! Not to my baby! But there it is, she's losing one of her bottom middle teeth. It's loose, and there is already a new tooth growing in behind it. A few more days and it's gone. The tooth that is loose is actually the first tooth that The Babe got, which I guess is only fair, but it also means I have a weird, sentimental attachment to it. I remember so vividly when it first appeared, looking just like a tiny piece of rice on her gums. I remember I was a bit sad that she was getting teeth already (she had just turned 6 months old), because I would be losing that beautiful toothless grin of hers. I remember I spent a whole day taking oodles of pictures of her before her tooth came in and ruined it all, LOL. And now, here I am, just as sad that the tooth is leaving us. *sigh* It's hard to be a mom....

She's all growns up. Next month... college.

so frustrating

This starts out sweet, and ends OK, but in the middle; it was just so frustrating!

The Kiddo's Gramma and Grampa J are coming this weekend for a visit. This is always big excitement for The Kiddos, and they spend a few days prior to the visit talking about it non-stop. So, this morning, The Babe wants to put together her puzzles and leave them so that Gramma J can see them when she gets here. Isn't that sweet? I think so.... But Gramma and Grampa aren't coming until Saturday, and The Babe has chosen to do her puzzles on the kitchen island.

I explained to The Babe that if she wants to do her puzzles on the island, I will have to pick them up today. I use the island *a lot*, and I can't have her puzzles there. I told her that if she wanted to save her puzzles for Gramma to see, she should do them on the dining room table. That table is rarely used because we have an eat-in kitchen with a table which is the common meal place. Doesn't that seem so reasonable? I didn't tell her she couldn't do her puzzles, I didn't tell her she couldn't save them for Gramma; I just told her she would have to use a different table.

Well, I guess that's an awfully unreasonable thing to suggest to a 5 year old. I had given her that news and, not realizing it was a big deal, left the room. She cried. I came back in the room to investigate, and The Babe was sitting at the island crying. She doesn't want to do her puzzles in the dining room, she wants them on the island. The thing is, it wasn't a throwing a tantrum cry, it was like she really was quite sad and upset about this turn of events.

So, then I tried to explain it very nicely. Gramma would love to see her puzzles and all the hard work she put into them, so we should make sure she gets to see them. We should do them in the dining room and save them carefully. The Babe just looked at me with her big, teary eyes. She got down off the island stool and just gave me a hug. She wanted to snuggle on the sofa then, so we went and sat quietly for a bit.

I'm still not sure what the whole problem was, but it's so frustrating! I don't know what I could have done differently, or why it was so upsetting... but there it is. And she still hasn't done the puzzles. I picked up the pieces from the island and put the boxes on the dining room table in case she changes her mind.

playtime

Today as I was working, The Boy came up behind me and said "You have a picnic mommy? Come on! You have a picnic?" I turn around to find the boy just laden down with play food, clutching his green babies which he has started to spread on the floor for a picnic blanket. I was busy at work, mind you, but The Boy has never asked me to a picnic before, so I decided it was breaktime.

We sat on the floor and spread out the buffet of play food. "That's an eggplant, mommy. You eat it? My think it's good." "My brought you bananas. You like bananas." "My make you a sandwich. You eat it." We had so much fun, and I hope he wants to have a picnic again soon.

The Babe has discovered a new game of her own. Each night I read her a chapter of whatever book we are currently reading. I keep the receipt from the library as our bookmark. So, each night I sit in the little tea-table chair by her bed, open the book, place the bookmark on the floor by my feet, and start reading. Last night, The Babe accidentally dropped her Brown Bear on the floor as I was reading, and when she picked him up she grabbed the receipt, too. When I was done with the chapter and looked for the bookmark, she giggled that I didn't know where it was. I hadn't noticed that she picked it up along with Brown Bear.

So, tonight she is fidgeting in her bed as I am reading. She gets out of her bed on the opposite side from me, crawls on the floor all the way around the bed, reaches her hand way out, grabs the bookmark, and crawls back around the bed and climbs in. All the while she is trying very hard to stifle her giggles, and all the while I am pretending not to notice, because I know exactly what she's doing. I finish the chapter and pretend to look for the bookmark. Where could it be?! I know I put it right here! Oh, she was hysterical. She honestly believes that I didn't see her take it.

I am enjoying playing with The Kiddos so much. They are so sweet and innocent. The simplest things make them happy. It's really sweet to be a part of it.

little known facts

Well. I've been invited by HipMamaB to attend a "virtual cocktail party". The requirements of said party are that as you make conversation with the other guests, LOL, you share 5 facts about yourself that might not otherwise be known. Hmmmm... this is a toughy. Don't you all know me by now?

1.)I'm grumpy. When I was a bank teller, I'd pull the seniority card so I could work the drive thru. That way I could curse and say unkind things to the customers when I turned off the microphone.

2.)I recently started having my nails done... something I used to do long before I had kids. I love that my hands look well kept and nice, and I know it's froufy. I don't like to think about how this somehow makes me high maintenance.

3.)I lost a lot of weight when I was ill in the summer of '05. I went from a size 12 to a size 6. I am really liking this, and it was a great perk to that horrible illness. However, my DH is extra happy about it, to the point that he makes comments about when I was "fat" and now I am really frightened of gaining the weight back...

4.)I never went to a single dance all through High School. When I was in college, DH's band was hired to play our old HS's prom, and I went to that. Does that count? Ummmm ... no, not really.

5.)I am known on-line as 'Pollyanna', but I am the biggest potty mouth in the whole wide world. Well, not maybe the biggest one, but I am *always* the first one to slip up and drop the f-bomb in the most inappopriate of circumstances. Surprised?

Now... who can I invite to this cocktail party??? Most of my blog writing friends have already been tagged... OK, Nita, Anneke, Jules, You're it!!!

the stuff that dreams are made of

I think every parent has looked at their little newborn child and wondered what that baby thinks about. As they grow older, we still wonder... what is going on in their head? The mystery lessens as the child begins to talk and communicate, but there are still times when we wonder. I am sure we will be wondering until the end of time, as I am sure that no matter the age, they will still do or say things that make little sense.

The bedtime routine around here goes like this: teeth brush, tinkle, then we read a story to both children. They switch off in whose room we read, and who gets to pick the story. Then each child goes to his/her own bed. I read another set of short stories to The Boy, I turn on his "songs" (it's a Bach CD), and bid him goodnight. He always instructs me to close the door all the way, so Cosmo (the cat) can't get in. Then I move into The Babe's room, where we read a chapter from her current book (we're still in the Little House books... almost done), sing a song, and then I tuck her in.

Often, The Boy wakes during the night. As much as it is bothersome to me and disturbs my sleep, I can't really complain. Usually, he is just upset because he has awakened to find that his songs have ended. I go in, press play on the CD player, give him a kiss and leave. Sometimes he is upset because there is a storm or other such noise. I go in, I reassure him it's OK, I give him a kiss and I leave. Every once in a while, I can tell that The Boy has been awakened by a bad dream. He's just generally upset in these instances, for no specific reason. Last night was one of these times, but I was lucky enough to get a glimpse of what goes on in that silly little head of his...

I walked into his room, and he is crying. I get him to lay down, and I give him a kiss. I asked him what's the matter. "Cosmo ate my leg!" I'm a bit confused. Mind you, it's the middle of the night for me, too. "what?" I ask him...."what's the matter?" "Cosmo ate my leg, mommy! He ate my leg!"

OMG. I actually did really well and was able to keep from laughing until I got back to my own bed. I assured The Boy that Cosmo couldn't have eaten his leg, because we had closed the door. Cosmo couldn't get in. And then we lifted the covers and checked out his legs. They were both there. It was all good... ahhh, how strange to know the stuff his dreams are made of. LOL.

"my a big boy now"

That's what The Boy said to me today. Here's the scenario:

The Boy is pretty well potty trained. He wears underwear all day, every day, except for his nap time and while he sleeps at night. We are virtually accident free. We leave the house, go on long car rides, we are not limited at all. He tells us when he needs to go, and we take care of it. The one thing holding us back is poop. The Boy refuses to poop in the potty. I figure he's young yet, no need to make an issue of it and cause him undue stress over poop. So, usually, he times his poop to be first thing in the morning while he still has a diaper on, or he takes care of it during his nap. If, for some reason, he needs to poop at another time during the day, he will simply ask for a diaper, and we comply with this request. He's still way ahead of where The Babe was at this same age, so I figure it's OK.

Today The Boy tells me that his bottom hurts. Well... here's how it went:

The Boy: Mommy, my bottom hurts.
Me: Why does your bottom hurt?
The Boy: My need to poop.
Me: OK, go get a diaper, I'll help you out.
The Boy: No, my need to poop on the potty! My a big boy now!
Me: (hurriedly) OK then! Let's go!

So, we went into the bathroom and he sat right down on the potty, no arguement, no fuss. Sadly, he was not successful, and as it is currently very close to nap time, I think he may end up pooping as per the normal routine. But what a big step he made! I'm so proud of him!!! 6 years ago I never would have even contemplated sharing a poop story with my friends, but you all understand.