House Rules

I have sometimes contemplated developing a list of House Rules to post by the front door. The problem is that for the most part, they really only developed out of something Noah did, Noah started to do, Noah was planning to do, etc. Here are a few:

1. Don't start daddy's car.
2. Don't touch the tailpipe of cars.
3. Don't stand in the washing machine.
4. Don't touch poo poo.
5. Don't put pens in the water dispenser.
6. Don't put anything in the water dispenser.
7. Don't ride your bike with you Batman cape on. (we have a picture that shows what happens when you don't listen to this one).
8. Don't press the red button on mommy's key thing.
9. Don't stick any of brother's toys in your mouth.
10. Don't lick soap bubbles.

There's more. There's so many more.

This is the one that cropped up tonight however:

11. If you poo poo in the shower, you have to tell mommy but then you have to clean it up your self.

-Sheryl

I Remembered

I remembered what I had meant to post. It was one of those mom moments where you are absolutely so stunned that you don't know whether to holler or curse or to make a life moment of explaining the right thing to do for your children.

But after a long weekend on my own with Alan out of town, and worn out with the variety of screwiness that followed the weekend including a baseball game, team pictures, making a garden, covering for my boss, a cleaning project inside, a toaster oven failure, etc., I was VERY glad to end my Monday with picking my boys up. But it was stinking raining so here we were dashing to the car from school with still thinking about whether we had to negotiate baseball practice AND cub scouts or just scouts or neither depending on how tired we freaking were.

Before I could even put the car in drive Noah hollered he was thirsty. In my ultra-Seattle re-usable bag, I had a stash of juice boxes and fruit snacks and cracked open a fresh Minute Maid apple juice for him. As I was handing it back to him he started screaming like a mad man because HE WAS SPRAYING IT ALL OVER HIMSELF AND HIS BOOSTER SEAT WHILE I WAS STILL HOLDING IT. Some how it wasn't registering to him to just let go of the damn juice box. This wasn't the first time we've done the hand-the-juice-box-back-to-the-pre-schooler-in-the-car-seat-maneuver so I don't understand what the failure was here.

I used Joshua's sweatshirt jacket to clean it up and vowed to wash it when I got home tonight. Now that I think about it I'm pretty sure that I left it in the car. Gimme a break... I carried in a backpack, computer bag, cute blue purse, Target shopping bag, stuffed leopard and a pizza in one shot. I'm not a super hero.

But that little incident isn't what really blistered me. It was about half a mile later at a red light where Joshua handed me his capped water bottle and asked me to "open it carefully". Now Joshua has OCD, is meticulous, is relentlessly careful and as Jill has often said, a 46-year-old man in a 7-year-old body. So telling me to be careful opening a container for fear of a tiny spray of random water that he doesn't want to get on his own flesh or clothes is not unusual.

BUT NO.

This sucker dumped at least half a cup of water or more all over me and my lap and my drivers seat. And all Joshua can say is "See. It does that every time! I don't get it."

I could only turn around and stare.

Really.

Couldn't he have just told me it spilled water every time he opened it?

We stopped at Target and bought Icees and popcorn and a new water bottle.

Remember when we didn't take water bottles to school and instead lined up behind the entire class to wait for the drinking fountain after gym just hoping we weren't behind somebody gross as if that made a difference in the amount of germs we were inhaling off the faucet?
-Sheryl

It Got Eaten

My post got eaten that I put here Saturday. It was about Noahy and Joshua's baseball and eyeballs and butt wrinkles. When I'm done being mad about it getting eaten by blogspot I'll re-post.

And now because I typed that I forgot what I was originally going to type.

I guess that's what I get.

-Sheryl

Why We Have 'Wrinkles'

****This was the post that I thought I lost.... dang blogspot for hiding things in edit mode...

Noah has a level of charm that I have never witnessed from another child on the planet. Random strangers- and best pals such as Jill- fall in love with him nearly instantly and there's no explaining it. Jill LEFT her glitter flip flops for him because that's what he wanted. She LEFT HER FLIP FLOPS FOR HIM. That's what he does. He causes people to be so charmed that they give him the shoes off their feet.

It was that charm that saves him when I'm in the middle of trying to watch his older brother's baseball game while I let him sit in the car and dink around hosing up every control, open every cd, dump out the glove compartment and deposit the contents of my purse throughout the entire square footage of my mom van. He is allowed to stay in the car with me no more than 10 yards away and he was told to not holler at me unless it was super duper important. Which of course as soon as Joshua goes up to bat Noah starts hollering. I bolt over to see what the issue is:
"MAMA! MAMA!! MAMMMMMA!"

"What Noahy?"

"Um. Um. Um... what happens when somebody only has one eye?"

I couldn't be mad. Because his little head was stuck through the window and it was an honest question and to him it was an emergency. And everyone within 49 feet was giggling.

But perhaps his best statement of the week was:

"Mama, I know why God gave me a wrinkle." I was definitely perplexed at where in the HELL my 32lbs 4-year-old had a wrinkle...

"Why Noahy?"

"He gave me a wrinkle so that I don't stick to the potty."

Wrinkle. Crack. We all have a word for it I suppose.

-Sheryl

What The HELL

Accomplishment of the week:

Convinced my mother to stop storing her purse in her car trunk. She some how thought this was ok.

What the hell moment of the week:

I caught the name of a friend on the right side of that damn thing on facebook and clicked her to friend. I interned for her the summer of my sophomore year in college. She facebooked back nearly immediately- to tell me she was dying of lung, liver, bone and lymph cancer.

Noahism-

"They maybe far away... or maybe real near by..." He's been singing the score to Annie. Relentlessly.

Joshua moment-

He HAD to go buy a white balloon Wednesday night because he wanted to send a message to God. He didn't want me to read it (of course I had too... but pretty much he asked God to read his thoughts in his brain). He released it and as it paused up in the sky for a moment, Joshua was sure an angel was grabbing it right then.

gutter mind

So last night I was reading a bedtime story to Gracie. Toot and Puddle and the Great Cheese Chase. In case you don't know, Toot and Puddle are two pigs that are life long BFF's-kinda like me and Sheryl. Really cute illustrations and they've even made it in to a cartoon.

Anyway, It was the first "non-cardboard" book i've read to her and was excited to be reading something with a plot, so to speak. It was all about how they traveled to Paris for a vacation and got to see all these famous spots, but what they really wanted was to go to this cheese bistro. In the end they got their cheese and returned home to Woodcock Pocket.

Well, what are you thinking about right now? Cause I can tell you what was running through my mind....WOODCOCK POCKET???? Is the author for real? You want me to read this to my kid with a straight face? Yeah, that didn't happen. But maybe not everyone has a gutter mind like I do. I'm not sure I can read that book again to her. Just looking at it on the bookshelf makes me bust out laughing. I'm super mature like that.

~Jill

baby steps

Gracie started walking this weekend. Most mamas understand that this is a happy and exciting thing, but it's also sad. We are nearing the end of her "firsts". She's already done the first smile,rolling over, sitting up, crawling, clapping, standing, first word (mama-yay!), and now walking.

I mean, what other firsts do I have to look forward to? First day of school-I think I can handle that. First crush-oh geez. First kiss-vomit. First serious boyfriend-shoot me now. From here on out, the "firsts" are just gonna get tougher.

I can't help but feel a little jipped. She's only 9 months old and she started doing all of this stuff earlier that normal. I wanted a little baby nugget for just a little longer. More likely that not, she is my last baby. I am trying to etch every single milestone into my brain, something I didn't do with the other two. Or maybe I did but it's been a decade since they were babys and now i've forgotten.

I will remember how funny she is. How her laugh sounds like an overly happy duck, quacking wildly. How she laughs like that as she takes her baby steps. When she finally falls on her butt she claps ferociously and looks so proud of herself. So funny to watch, so sad to watch.

~Jill

Thank God It's Sunday...

It's almost one o'clock and i'm still in my pajamas, wrapped in a snuggie sitting on my couch. Incidentally, I despise snuggies. But, I was cold and it was here. It's tie dye with peace signs all over it, which means it belongs to Emily. Anyway, I have done nothing today and now I feel like a lazy piece of poop. I am recovering from a terrible week though, so I will give myself a break.

I have some kind of weird cold and I have no voice. Literally. Only a whisper is coming out. My children are probably in Heaven. Every time I ask Alex to do something, he says "what" over and over and pretends he can't hear me. It's fantastic. Why can't they loose their voices? At the same time too....I would pay hundreds for that to happen.

Also, I have a boob infection. WTF??? Can my life get any better? That meant that I had to go to the doctor, which I avoid doing at all costs. She always bugs me about loosing weight and I hate listening to it. Look, I know i'm fat ok? It's not news to me, and I don't need a doctor telling me I need to loose weight. Hello?? Does she think I like having three asses strapped to my back? But, surprisingly she said "you've lost 12 pounds since you had the baby". Actually, what she said was " you've ONLY lost 12 pounds since you had the baby". WHAT!?!? FOR REAL?!?! I'LL TAKE IT!!! Shit, I gained more than that AFTER giving birth to the other two so loosing 12 pounds is sweet! I think this is the only good thing that happened all week. Here's hoping next week is better.

~Jill

Noah Quotes of the Week

1. I don't like birds. Because they poop on peoples heads.
2. If a gorilla comes into my room, I'm going to poop on it to scare it away!
3. I think you are beautiful mama.
4. After we all say grace at dinner, Noah adds "And please bless Joshua and make him not so crabby."
5. Upon standing in front of a full length mirror in his swim trunks: "Oh my I look GOOD!"

Today

I didn't get to talk to Jill today because her throat was so sore she isn't talking. I was just wanting to say hi. And to egg some sympathy for having no hot water for 5 days except of course I was in Dallas for 4 of them but that 5th day sucked when the water heater guy came and left a gas valve hooked up wrong and by the time piano practice passed there was enough gas emitting from the house to blow up all of Mill Creek. So the boys and I stayed in a hotel and enjoyed swimming for about 15 minutes before Joshua puked in the water and I literally was scooping blown chunks off the bottom of the Holiday Inn Express pool.

But we slept good and got showers with water that wasn't boiled off the stove.

And the Puget Sound Energy emergency dude fixed everything.

Today is my mother's birthday. I did call her and speak with her. This screwed up stuff that I think only happens to me actually originates much with her- twice she's locked herself in her own bathroom and had to rip off molding over a several hour stint in order to get out. And she didn't get to chat with her grandsons because when they should have been calling her I was scrambling to figure out the hotel thing. She did call in the middle of it- because that's just when she calls- but I hope she knows I'm glad she gave me her screw up genes because I wouldn't have as much to write about. I wouldn't have as much to be grateful for. I wouldn't have nearly as much after-the-fact laughing if it wasn't for Nana Coo Coo. She got that name from my brother. And still smiles when it's what we call her.

Diligence and Peeing in Your Shoes

I went on a business trip to Dallas for a few days this week. I was grateful from the stand point that the hot water heater had crapped out over the weekend- it's less than 2 years old- and the part wouldn't be ready until THURSDAY.

I was balistic and I wasn't even the one stuck at home with two little boys who at some point would need a bath with actual warm water. Not to mention dishes... laundry... standard, basic stuff.

But the very day I leave I receive an email from my 1st grader's teacher letting me know he would be recognized for the character quality of diligence on Wednesday. When I wouldn't be home. I felt horrible. She noted that he was "being honored for his diligence in listening, following directions and great comments".

There was also a note sent home from my pre-schooler's teacher. He had become aggravated at lunch because his spaghettios were slimey. So he was sent to nap early which caused him to throw his blanket, flip his cot over and in general be mad. He then proceeded to 'fake' going potty only to get back to the classroom and consequently peed all the way down to his shoes. He was even sent to the pre-school directors office for his inordinant- but horrible- behavior.

I love both my sons equally. I do. The boy who got an award for diligence also left the certificate on my pillow and left the light on in my room so I would see it when I got home around midnight. The boy that peed in his shoes was mad his mama was gone. And he diligently tried to point this out for anyone that could understand. I hate leaving them but I must get paid too- new shoes that don't smell like pee are expensive.

Ahhhhhhhh.....

Today was a weird day. It was the first day back to school after spring break. Normally, i'm not all that happy about a school vacation coming to an end. I like hanging out with my kids, for the first few days anyhow. I like not driving the to and from school, activities ect..... But today after I dropped them off it was like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders.

I came home and promptly got more accomplished in one hour than I did the whole past week. There was no bickering. No "mom, what is there for breakfast?". Um, the same thing there is everyday? No lazy butt pre-tweens slouching on the couch expecting me to wait on them hand and foot. Not that I actually do wait on them, but when I say no, or do it yourself, I am met with "oh my God mom, you are sooo mean"or "That is so unfair!". "AAALLLEEEXXX I HATE YOU!!!" (Emily says that about 28 times a day)

When did my children become so demanding and lazy?

Today there was peace and quiet. Summer break should be fun. I'm researching summer camps asap.

Found IT!

I found the picture of Jill and I in Chicago... complete with our matching outfits that Jill's mom made. I loved those clothes. The cotton shirts always had matching underwear too. I'm not kidding. Ever since we took the Puget Sound picture it made me think of that Chicago/Lake Michigan photo... and how very long ago it was 6 and how much we couldn't possibly imagine would change.

We were going to grow up and live next door and have pools... what happened???

I'll scan the picture in when I find the cord and the plug and the thing that makes the scanner work... I'm also out of town for the next 3 days and you might as well count that as being out for a week and a half for how much havoc it causes when I actually get back home, etc.

Just so everyone knows, I will be finding a new photo of Sheryl and I pronto, even if it means hopping a plane to Seattle to have one taken. Although, photoshop is probably a faster and cheaper way to go. The shirt I am wearing in that picture was promptly discarded upon my seeing that photo. I had no idea I looked that hideous until I saw it. It does little for there being any hope of me becoming a non-hermit.

I am the World's Best social hermit. I call myself a social hermit because what with having 3 kids and all, I am forced to be a tad social. I would, however, be able to spend much of my life in my house if given the chance. As long as the house was filled with warm blankets, good books and a working computer. So I could Facebook, of course. Facebook is amazing because it allows one to be a hermit yet still feel social at the same time.

I am so hermity that the very year the hideous photo was taken, my next door neighbor approached my husband and said she was sorry to hear about my leaving him. Apparently, I had spent so much time not out and about in the hood, it was abuzz with gossip that I had up and left my husband and children. I mean, I had decided to take a break from my garden that year, so it was a tad overgrown. There was Matt's work crisis, which left us all a little stressed and depressed and probably equaled a little more indoor time. There were the 4 days I spent in Seattle and our 10 day Boston/D.C. vaycay. And as usual, I didn't sprint out my door on every single nice day, parading my kids up and down the street, unlike many of my neighbors. But lordy, it's not like I dropped off the planet or something! I still did my usual carting around of the kids, grocery shopping, garbage taking out ect.... Whatever. I'm fine with my hermit factor. I like that I am comfortable being by myself. I am not the life of the party, and i'm aces with that.

That picture was taken during one of my most life defining years. It was the year my husband quit his job and began his quest to start his own business. And because as any sane, unemployed couple would do, we decided to get pregnant. GENIUS! It was, as it turns out, a pretty smart thing to do. Gracie is amazing and pretty much one of my most favorite people at the moment. Probably because she can't talk yet. It was also the year that, contrary to what my neighbors think, I came out of my shell a bit and took my second ever solo trip.

There is something to be said for being comfortable in the everyday norm. There is also something to be said about going out of your everyday norm and being a bit daring. Because it was on that trip that I got to re-connect with my life long friend. I witnessed first hand what an awesome mama she is and how she is the center of her boys world. I got to know and fall in love with her boys. It was the trip full of Thomas the Train, Uno tournaments and sparkly flip-flops. I guess the picture isn't that bad. How could it be with memories like that?

One Mom-Van with a Touch of Bird Crap

You know you are entering a new level of awesome-ness when not only are you driving around by yourself in a mom-van, but, there's bird crap running down the entire side of the car some how.

I forget about my mom-van when I'm trolling around with kids and all their gear. But there is something entirely wrong with it the minute it's just me, and Disney toons are still crooning away on the CD player's repeat mode, because I'm just numb to it.

Snoopy Band-Aids

First off... a writer is what I WANT to be... a mama? Yes I am. A senior supply chain analyst (it's a long winded code for being good at something that might be considered kind of boring- God has a funny way of messing with people!)? But yes I am. A writer? Yeah no. Not yet. I still dream for the dream that made nerdy wizards and vampires really awesome.

Jill might have sliced my finger a tad with child-proof-safety-scissors, but she did promise me a coveted Snoopy Band-Aid. And I made it home without her mother knowing. But either the all too guilty Jill fessed up or else her mother noticed our slack clean up job in the bathroom. Either way, Jill and her mother were at the door of my house pronto.

I don't know what you are feeling so guilty about though... I was the champ who got the brush snagged into your hair while playing beauty shop in the garage, I participated in the incident that blazed a hole through the finish on your desk with nail polish remover and I was standing at the top of the concrete front porch stairs while you were definitely at the bottom hollering. Tangled in your child-size lawn chair.

I suppose there was a good amount of mutual pain inflicted. We made it though.

I was your sucky maid of honor too don't forget- and you didn't suck- you warned me you were pregnant and phobic of people. I showed up at your wedding which was only the second wedding I had ever attended- and the last one had been when I was 11.

I'm sitting here typing this with Noah laying next to me in my bed. Wearing his Roo Halloween costume from 2006. And watching Pooh and the Heffalump. It's a happy place to be.

-Sheryl

Dodge Rock

Ok, so just like Sheryl, I'm trying to get this out with a small window of time. My 9 month old is entertaining herself in her "office", which is really just a corner of our living room crammed with her toys. I expect at any second for her to slam her hand in her play laptop and start screaming because she does this about 19 time a day. Also, I'm not even sure if I'm going to be any good at this blogging thing. At least, not as good as Sheryl. For Christ sake, shes a writer. I'm just a glorified ass wiper. But, I'll give it a whirl.

I guess this blog is going to be about us, our friendship and such. So, I guess i will start off by giving you a small history of our friendship. Sheryl and I have been friends for approximately 32 years. This is something that is not easy for me to admit, since I mostly tell people that I'm 26 when they ask my age. Frankly, 32 years later, I'm a tad shocked that Sheryl is still my friend. I mean, looking back now, I don't think I was always the best choice for a friend.

For example, there was the time one summer that I made up a game called "Dodge Rock". This entailed one person to sit is our wading pool and the other to stand outside of it and throw rocks at the person in the pool. The idea was for the person in the pool to swim back and forth and try to avoid getting pummeled by jagged, pointy rocks. I, of course got to be the rock thrower and Sheryl held the position of the dodger. Come on, who wouldn't want to play that game???

There was also the time I nearly amputated her finger with a pair of kiddie scissors. While she was bleeding profusely and crying, I was covering her mouth with my hand to muffle her cries so as not to alert any parental figures. It was of course purely accidental, not planned out like Dodge Rock. I'm not a complete psychopath.

After being such a great childhood friend to Sheryl, she asked me to be her maid of honor. I totally sucked at it (sorry again, Sheryl). In my defense, I was like 50 months preggers with my second kid and totally broke. Also, I was only 23 and didn't really get how the world of weddings worked. Like, planning a shower, bachelorette party....or at least helping the bride get ready on the big day. Nope, didn't do any of these. I rock!!!

Over the years we have grown apart and found our way back to each other a zillion times. I am lucky that there were enough good times in our friendship to overshadow Dodge Rock and the like, so she would still want to be my friend. You all know you want to be BFF's with me too. Come on, it'll only cost you a game of Dodge Rock. And maybe a pinkie toe.

~Jill

I Have 5 Minutes Before Dinner

I have 5 minutes before dinner to get this out. My pal Jill and I have had a friendship that has lasted over 30 years. This friendship endurance can happen for many people- except most people don't start their friendships when they are hardly 2.

One of the main things we have in common is that we've known each other forever- sort of like how you have family members that you love and care about and want to spend time with but if it wasn't for sharing some DNA it would have been hard for your paths to cross. Jill and I are that way.

Something that is similar for us is that we didn't grow up having a sister- Jill was an only child and I had two brothers and now I even have a step-sister and there are sister-in-laws and moms that stopped being moms and are friends. But Jill and I have hung on to us.

There is 2300 miles separating us, 5 kids between us and only 24 hours in a day. But we talk, email and now will blog about the laughable, happy and of course heinous parts of being mamas, daughters, wives, former wives, employees, grunts that do the laundry and heroes that find whatever got lost. We are human and love the funny parts about it!

My five minutes has been shot to hell and has also been compromised by breaking up a fight over blocks and fixing the DVD remote.

Cheers to the first of many posts from Jill or Sheryl.
-Sheryl