156 Card Pickup

May 18 2011

Posted in: The Kids · Tags: Abby, lists

What my 2.5 year old daughter, Abby, is currently into:

Playing Cards
Not for playing with, mind you. She carries 3 open decks of special Easter edition bunny cards with her everywhere. And they must be in a certain order, with a preferred rabbit sitting on top. It makes the 100 times a day that we play pickup all the more enjoyable.

Nutella
Nutella is a recent find in our house, though I’m not sure what took so long. We all love it. Maybe a little too much. Where my oldest will at least use pretzels to administer his like dip, my daughter dives in mouth first. I’m more prone to follow her lead.

Asking “What, Mommy?” or “What you doing, Mommy?”
Except it’s more like, “What you doing, Mommy? What, Mommy? What? What? What? What? What?”, until I’m worn down enough to answer. “I’m just going to the bathroom, Abby.” It makes me almost glad that Buzz skipped this step.

Temperature-inappropriate clothing
Abby is still stuck in winter and refuses to come out. I actually bribed her in a spring dress the other day, but only because I let her keep her favorite corduroy pants on under. She won’t wear a short-sleeve shirt unless it’s layered. I feel I’ve won if it’s 80 degrees and I can keep her out of a hoodie.

Ducks
We have the same duck couple that returns to our area of the neighborhood every spring. If we see them nearby, we’ll stand on our porch to toss a couple pieces of bread. Abby is charmed, of course. So now, every time I open the door, it’s “What, Mommy? Ducks? Duckies? Bread? What? What? What? What?”.

Powder

May 17 2011

Posted in: Daily · Tags: Jedi, type 1 diabetes

You know that kid at the grocery store, face in a bag of junk food disguised as breakfast? He comes up for air smeared in powdered sugar crumbs. He could really use a napkin, along with a lesson on not eating like a pig in public. You’ve maybe snickered.

Have you seen him?

No? Then you weren’t at the store with us this weekend.

I try to never take all 3 kids to the grocery store. Up until last week, I never had. But my mom wasn’t feeling well, and I couldn’t wait another day. I was out of ice cream, it was a dire emergency.

Not only that, but we were also thrown off schedule. The only window of opportunity to make it to the store was when we normally start lunch. I try to have a routine in place so Jedi’s blood sugar doesn’t fluctuate anymore than it already does. I still thought we would have made it back with plenty of time before his morning dose of insulin really kicked in, however.

I thought wrong.

Towards the end of our trip, his mood shifted. Then, “I think I need a test”. Meaning his blood sugar test, which is how he tells me he’s low. Of course I came unprepared, so I grabbed the first thing I saw off the store shelves with enough quick carbs, stuffing his mouth full in front of an unwitting audience with giant, sloppy bites. Nothing discreet about it, it was as if a powdered donut exploded in aisle 9. Like I need to give people a legitimate reason to look at me in disapproval.

An Inspirational Poster in the Making

May 16 2011

Posted in: Me Myself · Tags: life

The boys had mini-blinds in their room at first. It didn’t take long before those cheap window coverings were worn ragged, however. Time spent kicking at them, tying up their toys, brutally forcing the slats apart to see outside, it all took its toll. When I couldn’t stand the sight any longer, they were replaced. Then again. A few times over. Until those cheap window coverings began to get a bit expensive.

Clearly they had to have something covering their window, but the blinds were obviously a poor choice. And so I bought a rod and blue curtains. I then settled in for the rest of our days not needing to worry about their window dressing any longer.

Until Buzz broke the rod. Pulled it down and snapped the thing in half. My determination, distraught and annoyed, was yet unwavering.

What else could I do but purchase another, only to have it be met with the same dastardly fate. I may have been determined, but Buzz seemed just as determined to undermine my attempts.

By this point, I didn’t want to deal with it anymore. It had become a ridiculous daily stress that I didn’t need. It’s just curtains. They’re not really that necessary.

Instead, I grabbed some nails and nailed those curtains in place once and for all.

Windows are a bizarre hiding spot for inspiration but I’m grabbing the metaphorical life lesson within: Determination is key. Do not throw your hands up in defeat, even if it seems like you’re running out of options. If all else fails, nail the damn thing down.

We’re All Good at Something

May 12 2011

Posted in: Favorites, The Kids · Tags: conversation, Jedi

“Do you play basketball a lot at school?”, I asked Jedi.

“Yeah, but I have to use the funnel basket, because I’m not very good.”, he replied.

“I guess we won’t be signing you up for basketball any time soon then, huh?”

“No, but what about baseball? Wait, is that ball hard?”

“Yes, the ball is hard.”

“No baseball, then. Unless I can just be the batter and run around the bases. What about softball? Is that ball hard?”, he wondered hopefully.

“That ball is bigger, and still hard.”

“How about golf? Oh, no! I couldn’t do golf! That ball is hard, too. When I hit it I’d have to yell FOUR! then duck like this and run away.” Jedi said while demonstrating his best crouch.

“You’d probably like soccer. That’s mostly kicking.”

“I could be a goalie!”, he exclaimed. “What does the goalie do again?”

Sensing a pattern here, I cut to the chase. “He blocks the ball. Which means he might get hit with the ball.”

“Oh, hmmm…”, he thought, our options dwindling.

“Well, there’s always track. That’s running. You like to run.”

“Yeah, I’m really good at running!”

This I Know

May 10 2011

Posted in: The Kids · Tags: Buzz, family, motherhood

Buzz is a handful. This I know. I’ve said it before and it bears repeating because it’s true. I would never consider him easy unless he’s sick, then he’s just cranky and I’m not sure if that’s better. That kid can push buttons I never even knew existed before. I’ve pulled out so much hair over him that I’m amazed I have any left. He doesn’t stop. Ever. Never. Does. Not. Stop.

All of this I’ve said before. Here and in venting to others, particularly my own mother. She’s had to babysit quite often recently and has been privy to his antics. I can hear the frustration in her voice when I return. She tries to offer advice. None of which I want to absorb. I don’t want to hear how bad my kid is from someone else, even and maybe especially Grandma.

It’s OK for me to say, because I’m his mom. I call him a little shit in the moment after a long day, but I also say it with love. I love that kid fluently, though he pushes and pulls. I know where his behavior stems and how his actions move like only his mom can. If anyone else says the same, it feels like an attack. Like we’re doing something wrong. Like somehow, if I’m not the only one who can notice, my kid must be bad.

You don’t talk about my kid, even if he’s related and maybe possibly deserves it. I don’t care. I will cut you. A really mean look, anyway. On the other side of the telephone. Where you can’t see. Because this is my mom, after all. For anyone else, though, I will cut you.

Mama bear. Rawr.

Yes, I know Buzz is a handful. He’s also an incredibly cheery, bright, and playful little boy, even if his version of playing may be a little rough. He is not a bad kid. He doesn’t set out to be mean or angry. I don’t believe he has a mean-spirited bone in his body. He’s 5 with moods just like every other and some days he really is just too much, but he’s trying. I know he is. We all are.