SUMMER ROCKS!

I have not posted in a while and that is mainly because it is SUMMER! I love the summer. Summer is a no rules kind of time for me. Ice cream for lunch. SURE. Staying up late. NO PROBLEM. You all want to whine? Well, the answer for that is still NO. Sorry!

In all seriousness though, this has been a great summer thus far. There have been beach days, pool days, swimming lessons, camp, laze around the house days and of course, lots and lots of ice cream and popsicles.

As a kid, I remember going to the beach almost every day in the summer and we always stopped at our local Dairy Queen on the way home. The memories that a slushie from DQ or a soft serve with extra sprinkles can evoke for me are endless. I only hope that my kids will have similar and happy summer memories. Childhood seems to be getting shorter and shorter for kids and I want mine to get as many innocent and carefree days as they can. So, until summer is over, I plan to spend as much time outside making memories and smiles as much as possible. See you when its back to school time. And no, it is not all cherries and rose petals here, and I will be ready for the school bus come late August. But until then, I am signing off (unless something really blog worthy happens!)

Happy second half of summer!

Happy Mommy

In a moment of stress with the kids yesterday, I snapped at Sean and then later, when we talked about it, I realized that what really bothers me is that everyone expects me, Mom, to always be healthy, happy, feeling great, in the mood, smiling and giving compliments, and so on. While I am these things plenty of the time, I am also human and need to express my stress just as everyone else does.
Sometimes the kids really piss me off. Do they mean to? I do not think so. But they still do. And sometimes Sean pisses me off. Does he mean to? Absolutely not. I know it is not intentional and I also know that I am not always a party to be around and I can piss him off as well. The thing is is that, as moms, somehow we have pigeon holed ourselves into this supermom persona. Quite honestly, I would like to be regular mom, not super mom. I would like to be the mom who yells sometimes, who has a headache sometimes, and who really does not feel like parenting sometimes. Oh, wait.... that IS who I am. And yet, it is not widely accepted. We are just supposed to grin and bear it. Well, I am just not a grin and bear it kind of gal. Just as my kids and Sean let me know when their needs are not being met, sometimes I need to do the same.....so, if you hear some loud yelling later on, be not afraid. It is just me, telling my kids, that I do NOT want to cook five different things for dinner and that no matter how much they whine about it, this supermom has taken off the cape and is back to being a regular run of the mill mom....one who does not have the patience, nor the skill, to cook five different meals!

Top 10

Top 10 things they should tell you in parenting books...but don't:



10. The amount of vomit that can come out of a child is quite disproportionate to his/her size...



9. Sibling rivalry should be called sibling combat...and it should come with the approriate armor.



8. The lung capacity of a small child is also quite disproprtionate to his size...



7. No matter what food style you adopt, you WILL serve macaroni and cheese more than you ever expected...



6. Your child loves you unconditionally, but he also assumes you are his personal servant....not sure which came first, the unconditional love or the position of personal servant...it is a chicken/egg question indeed.



5. No matter how hard you try, you will yell at your kids and you will sound like your parents at one point or another...it is inevitable.



4. You will be tired...a lot. You will long for sleep long after the newborn phase ends. You will long for long lazy mornings in bed....and yet, somehow, you will be amazed at how much you love the snuggles from all those little ones at an all too early hour on a Saturday morning.



3. You will be amazed at the lengths you go to to find quiet...locking yourself in your room, your bathroom, your closet, or perhaps taking a drive to the local nunnery and hanging out there with the cloistered nuns in total silence.



2. You will love the sound of little feet running around...



and finally, last, but definitely not least....



1. When your child has diarrhea, whatever you do, do not put him in the tub to clean him up until you KNOW he is empty, otherwise you will have a VERY UGLY scene on your hands....very ugly.

Boogers and stuff

While on the phone with a friend (who is also a mom) the other day, I got to overhear the following conversation between her and her child, whom we will call Silly Girl to protect her boogery identity.



"Silly Girl-is that a booger on your finger?"

"Nope."

"Well, why don't you go get a tissue or a piece of toilet paper to wipe whatever it is off."

"Nope."

"well, what are you going to do with it?"

Silence

"Don't wipe it on me."

Silence

"did you just wipe it on the couch?"

Silence

"Did you wipe it on the rug?"

Silence

"what did you do with it?"

Silly Girl smiles...



Motherhood---glam-or-ous!



So, the other day, I took the kids to get their hairs cut. I had all four, but only two of them needed cuts this time. We got there and there was no wait, which was great. Ok, I thought, this will be quick and easy, and as soon as I had that thought, it was as if one of my children (who shall remain nameless) read my mind and decided to quickly turn my silly plan upside down in a hurry. When I say that the next 30 minutes were complete and utter torture, I am not exagerrating. Said child proceeded to scream (in the loudest and most obnoxious way possible) to the point that the women who worked at the place were starting to wonder if said child was possessed. Siad child then decided to touch everything and run around the place like a loon...throwing train tracks off the train table, opening bottles (yes, plural) of nail polish and spilling them, getting it on clothes, picking up a bottle of shampoo and then WALKING OUT THE DOOR of the place into the parking lot. I was watching said child so I watched the child do this and when he/she looked back, he/she knew I was less than pleased (read PISSED BEYOND BELIEF). All this because this child wanted a haircut too. I told this child that he/she could sit in the chair and get his/her hair sprayed and combed, etc too, but he/she freaked out more...wanted no part of that....UNTIL, we got in the car to leave and he/she realized that offer was off the table...



I love my children beyond belief, but this 30 minute time span was complete torture.

Migraine anyone?

So, I think I have finally figured out why our kids like to bang their heads against the walls. They are trying ever so cleverly to self induce a migraine so they can see if the migraine in fact really warrants all the drama that we (the parents who get them) say it does.

Well, kids, since I can see you have not successfully self induced a migraine yet (since you are still moving, functioning, and making a lot of noise), let me help you get the idea.

One-Imagine your head is a tire. Say it is supposed to be inflated to 30 psi normally, well, go ahead and inflate it to 40 psi instead. That ought to give you a nice head start as to how this will feel.

Two-Get a bunch of big rocks. Imagine someone is picking them up and throwing them at your head, from about an inch away.

Three-Close your eyes as tight as you can. See how dark that is? Well, guess what, not dark enough.

Four-Imagine your head (but no other part of your body) is about 20 degrees higher in temperature than it should be.

And five- In your best four year old high pitched scream, yell loudly over and over again so that your ears ring and your head nears explosion.

Your head is throbbing, sweating, and you generally want to crawl into a cave and hibernate in complete and utter silence and darkness.

OK, now that I have created a good picture, I hope that will clear some things up for you.

I used to get migraines a lot when I lived in Texas and, let me note, I do not find this coincidental. In any event, my initial drug of choice was a bag of M+M's and a can of cold coke while lying on a cold floor in complete darkness. Sounds fun, huh? It used to work. But when that trick stopped working, I actually went to a doctor and got a prescription for a little magic pill that would dull the migraines when I got them.

When I moved back to New England, my migraines pretty much stopped. Not a coincidence. Anyway, for the first time in years, I am now the lucky winner of what is going on a 3 day migraine. It is unbearable. I have taken drugs, drank caffeine, taken to my bed in complete darkness, and nothing is touching it.

Please, oh gods of migraine healing, please come and taketh this away. I am begging you....

Yes, I am a slacker

and have not been posting as often as I once envisioned. Allow me to elaborate on some of the reasons! Buckle up, some of these reasons are downright ugly, but don't worry, most are just funny! This is going to be a stream of consciousness type of post...here we go

Easter brunch--all in all, it went well for brunch with four small kids. But let me start by saying the restaurant first seated us literally two rooms away from the buffet. I understand they wanted to seclude us so to speak, but we also need to be near the food!!! I mean really, what were they thinking? Anyway, we asked and they moved us graciously. The food was good but I estimate that we got up to get food at least 30 times. Not kidding.

The amount of time spent plunging toilets, wiping asses, cleaning dirty underwear--disproportionate to the amount of time I spend on my own personal hygiene...and if you live near me and see me on a regular basis, I am sure you will agree.

Discipline--Disciplining children sucks and when you have to discipline several at once, but NOT all four, things can get quite hairy. Me no like. I hate the tactics I have come to use, but you gotta get them where it hurts, and in the case of my kids, it is the stuffies they snuggle at night. Needless to say, I see a lot of nights without those oh so special stuffies ahead. Granted, taking one away seems silly when they all have about a thousand on their beds, but they do have clear favorites, so I know what to take to make it hurt! The non-listening whiny behavior has got to stop. Oh yea, and the kids need to stop it too!

OK, this post is not really all that funny or entertaining I am realizing, so I will post and move on....gotta give my audience something.

May I have your attention please?

Attention future parents, moms to be, toddlers playing house and mommy on the playground-let this be your official warning: Parenting.IS.challenging.

And no, I am not just talking about the sleep deprivation and self induced crankiness that follows. While that first part sucks, apparently, no one tells you that it just gets more and more challenging. Sure, there are joys to go with it too--first smiles, first steps, first words, hugs, kisses, etc. And these are the things that will get you through. But truly, just like with pregnancy, the general public just does not forewarn you about all the not so fun stuff. Let's categorize this into five categories.

Sight-the THINGS you will see. Dear lord, prepare yourself. You will see kids put their hands in their pants, pull it out, and then (wait for it)-SNIFF. Ack. You will see way too much ass crack. You will see nose picking. You will see too much.

Sound-the NOISE. The level of noise. The whining. The crying, The screaming. The repeating the things you say, and it is only the choice words at the most inopportune times such as shit, dammit, and so on.

Smell-See my first anecdote in sight. Way too much poop smell, and vomit smell. Too much.

Taste-well, this can be good or bad. Sometimes, you have to taste a child made concoction. Something like raisins and peanut butter and pickles all stuck together in a ball. Ack. On the other hand, a sweet slobbery popsicle kiss can be oh so sweet.

Touch-While there can a lot of touching, too much sometimes, there really is nothing as sweet as a kid snuggle or a bear hug. The problem is, those seem to be fewer and farther between lately.

In any event, the point is this: parenting is like a roller coaster. You make it up the hill of sleep deprivation and then you breeze down the hill of they can't move yet or talk yet and all they do is smile! AH. But before you know it, you are climbing the hill of the terrible twos. And then you coast down through consistent naptimes. Then you climb through potty training and breeze through NO.MORE.DIAPERS. And then before you know it, you realize you have made it through all the checklists and now, your primary role, as it has always been but possibly clouded by those milestones and checklists, is to raise a good, honest human being. One who makes good choices, who is kind and honest, who can make friends easily and can be a loyal friend. One who will look to you and watch your every move and will try to be like you, thinking you are the be all and end all. Now is the time that I should be on my best behavior, at a time that I feel is so challenging and overwhelming as a parent. Sigh.

So, let me reiterate. Parenting. Is. Challenging. Buckle up. You are in for a wild ride.

I have more today....

OK, two quick things--First things first. Today it happened. The thing I hoped would never happen and the thing that has happened before but not to this level.....drum roll please: One of my kids turned into a class A brat in a store whining and crying and begging and stomping feet making ridiculous pleas for ridiculous toys and other miscellaneous crap. It was hard for me to remain patient, but I did....until I didn't. And when I could no longer be patient, I became that mom, the crazy mom, getting down to her child's level, talking between clenched teeth and telling her (yes, now you know it was not John) to cut the sh*t. So, all you 20 somethings young and in love and you newlyweds with no children or little babies in tow and making your judgements, JUST LIKE I DID, let this be your warning. IT.WILL.HAPPEN.TO.YOU. Sure, you will be a better mom, you will never let your kids act that way, you will have it all together, blah blah blah. I repeat. IT.WILL.HAPPEN.TO.YOU.

OK, second agenda item---girls clothing. All I really have to say is WOW. Is it really necessary to dress little girls like complete whores. I mean, geez, while we are at it, why not get them all breast implants and botox at age 5. Good god. It is getting more and more challenging to dress my kids like the little girls they are as opposed to the little hookers you clothing manufacturers would like them to be. Please, BACK OFF and let them have an innocent childhood, let them enjoy brief underwear and allow them to wear a one piece bathing suit with pride. And no, a monokini does not count as a one piece here. Good lord. really??? Perhaps I should go into clothing design. I know nothing about it, but what I do know is that no little girl needs hip huggers, low riders, skinny jeans, trashy undies or midriff baring shirts to name but a few.

OK, rant over. Enjoy the Oscars!

The Slumber Party

This weekend, due to some home reovations, we had the first Dowling family slumber party in the basement. I had the place set up so nicely. Pull out couch for me and Sean, and two double sized aerobeds for the kids. I made them, put all their necessary stuffies and other random items on the bed, put a few night lights in appropriate places, rented a G rated family flick, got some popcorn, etc etc. All they could possibly need.

We went to a friend's house for dinner and arrived home around 8:15. Kids were in jammies. Movie went in and I hoped for a quiet drift off into slumber, with Horton Hears a Who lulling everyone into happy sleep. HA! How naive I am. The issues began quickly. There was drama over blanket distribution, space per child, amount of popcorn each child was given to start. There was also a lot of whispering and giggling, which was cute for the first 15 minutes or so but then quickly wore on my nerves.

We quickly moved into phase two of annoyances--all body related and not pleasant: poops, coughing, a loose tooth that was barely hanging on.... Phase two led to phase three--the overtired and extremely dramatic WHINE! This is where I lost my patience. I held on for a long time, but then, just like that, I LOST.MY.PATIENCE. Folks, it was not pretty. It was riddled with me making ridiculous threats about people sleeping in the garage with the mice---not my proudest parenting moment.....

At about 11:30 all were finally asleep, but there were several more wake up calls in them iddle of the night. And somehow, the two men of the house slept through it all. That ability to sleep through ANYTHING chromosome....we women got gipped.

Sweet Dreams

Whining as an Olympic event....

Whhhhhhyyyyy does everyone haaaaaaaaaaave to whiiiiiiiiine so much around here???? Seriously, they wake up in perfect whining form. If there were an Olympic event for whining, my kids would be fighting one another for gold. Seriously.

I used to consider myself a fairly patient and laid back person. I had fun at parties, could tell a funny joke, had a good sense of humor and was all around easy going. Cue the dramatic music. Then I had kids. A lot of kids. Whom I love. With all of my heart. So much it hurts sometimes. But, they also whine. ALOT.

Now, I am able to admit that when I was younger and less wise (and before I knew what the day in and day out of parenting REALLY looked like, not what they paint in books about crafting and tummy time and all peaches and cream), I used to wonder why these often overtired frumpy looking moms could not keep their kids quiet or tell them no and that be the end of the story.
Cue the dramatic music. Then I had kids. A lot of kids. Whom I love. With all of my heart. So much it hurts sometimes. But now I get it. It is hard, really hard, to be patient all of the time with little beings who can tweak your nerves in a way you never knew possible until you had them.

So, my kids whine and lately, I find myself whining back. Which makes me laugh a little inside because it is so stupid. I am trying to get my spawn to stop whining and here I am whining back at them. No parenting book would approve. No child psychologist would approve. And I know, no twenty something, size zero with a nose ring chick, would even remotely have a clue as to how hard this whole mommy thing really is. But one day she will learn....oh yes, indeed she will learn.

Dreaming of a whine free zone-
Mommy Dearest

Two, Four, Six, Eight...

who do we appreciate??...blah blah blah. No. This is not part of a sweaty gym cheer routine. Instead, this is an all out rant on my ever growing self. I am a growing girl indeed.

Today I decided to tackle my bedroom closet since it has been bursting at the seams with clothes, junk, shoes, kids' miscellaneous projects and papers, and a whole lot of other crap. Let me start by telling you that I got rid of four bags of stuff in this cleanout and I feel quite accomplished with that. However, what I did not like was the array of sizes in my closet and the fact that the size that now fits me is the biggest size in my closet. I just seem to be expanding. Now, I am all about being a real woman...I truly despise the bony shoulders and the sunken rib cage. That repulses me. On the flip side, I also despise the muffin top and the flappy arms. Why has it suddenly become so hard to maintain a steady weight?

When I was 17, a size 2 was no problem. I had no hips, tiny boobs, a flat stomach, and rockin legs if I may say so myself because I walked or ran five miles every day. When I was in college, I put on the freshman 15 with all the beer guzzling I did, but I still managed to stay a size 4 and was quite content with that. Then I graduated into the real world, kept drinking a lot of beer and now had money to buy pizzas and wings, so I went up to a six. Fine, no problem. I will be a six forever. Then I got married and settled into a couch potato routine with my better half. Love is great, but I hate eight....and an eight I then was. And then, cue the drum roll, I decided to have kids, and decided to have them two at a time no less, and well, with that, and with now 6 years of parenting and grilled cheeses and chicken nuggets and mac and cheese and little motivation to get off my ass when I actually do have free time, I am now embracing the double digit size ten.

I am attempting to start climbing back down the ladder, but as I now know, it gets harder to take off as the years keep adding up. I never believed that when I was 17. Wish I had listened!

So, for now, I am learning to embrace the ten....until I have to get into a bathing suit and then you will hear me screaming profanities all while trying to remain calm and zenlike. Then in my anger, I will go get a coke and fries....damn dirve thrus, they are not helping my cause.

Love yourself and all that it has to offer!

Valentine's Day

So, with a show of hands, how many parents out there really could do without the "must do crafts" part of your job description? C'mon....I KNOW I am not the only one, I promise this is anonymous...ok, I see a few hands, but I know some of you are closet craft haters. I, for one, am officially out of the closet.

Well, Valentine's Day with four kids meant that on the one hand, I received some cute crafts (but I must add, the cuteness factor goes up several notches because I DID NOT HAVE TO BE INVOLVED in any of the gluing, cutting, pasting, coloring, painting, sticking, and so on). On the other hand, it also meant helping all of them prepare their Valentine's cards for school. First of all, who was the brainiac behind the tiny Valentine cards when kids who are just learning to write tend to write unusually large letters and cry when they cannot fit their whole name on the card. Next up is stickers, because that same brainiac felt the need to add a second step to the process. And let us not forget the ones where you are to insert a lollipop or a pencil through a precariously small little hole, one that no child can feed the lolly or pencil into....EVER.

Now, I do not want to come off as a party pooper or a Valentine's Day hater, but I will say that I prefer the innocent kiss, the I love you scribbled on a scrap piece of paper, or any other gesture expressing love that does not involve the preparation and craftiness involved in the classroom Valentine card.

With Love
Cupid

Potty Pooper...or not

OK, so the little guy is now 4 and was only potty trained a few months prior to turning 4, but we were finally living in a house in which everyone peed and pooped in the potty....until Sunday. For some reason, he has regressed, he is on strike, he is plain old lazy---one thing is for sure, there have been far too many wet pants the past three days.

So, I am calling on you--oh medical experts, psychoanalysts, perfect parents, potty boot camp instructors, peers who poop in the pot, and so on and so forth. Please share your wisdom, come into my home, exorcise the demons, do what you must and I will turn my eyes. Please, bring us back to the crapper once and for all.

Thanks in advance!

Double trouble....bathroom style

So, I am on the phone today (with a doctor, not a personal call people!), and I hear those words that I really have learned to loathe: "Mooooooooooooom, we neeeeeeeeeeeeeed you". As I am trying to listen to what the assistant is telling me in one ear, I hear more words, words that I now loathe even more than those first words: "we're in the baaaaaaathroom". Oh shit. This cannot be good.

I complete my call, take a deep breath and climb the stairs, like a dead man walking. Please no mess, please no mess, please no mess. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

OK, I walk in to see the following: one child, the only one armed with a penis, standing in front of the toilet with a dumbfounded look, hanging on to said penis. The other child, who shall remain anonymous, is sitting on the little potty like she owns the thing. She says: "I was just sitting here minding my own business and then HE came in and started peeing and sprayed all over me and everything. My clothes are soaking wet. Can I still wear them? Will they stink? And look, I did a huge poop in here!!! Wipe my butt."

Well now, if that isn't a nice "how do you do", I do not know what is! Let the weekend begin!

Birthday Parties

So, with four kids, it seems that we will be attending many a birthday party over the next few years. And it seems, that this year, we have hit the January jackpot. Over the course of the last month, we have attended eight borthday parties.
So, last Sunday we attended a party at a local paint your own pottery type of venue. The birthday girl's parents were kind enough to extend the invitation to our younger two since their younger daughter is in class with them. So, off we all went, as a family, to attend an hour and a half of controlled mayhem.
First, let me just say that the party was well done, the parents are so kind and generous and nothing about this post is about them. It is about me and my lack of tolerance for that level of mayhem.
The venue: small. The number of parties going on at once: two (Plus general public allowed in any time as well in the front area of the room). The number of children being instructed, painting, etc: at least 35 between the two parties. The number of times the kids were instructed to say Happy Birthday to the birthday girl "as loud as they could": twice. Wow, once was enough.
In any event, the kids all came away with a fun painted item that they did themselves and all had smiles on their faces...at least til we loaded them back up into the car and the fighting over balloon color ensued.
Just another relaxing Sunday afternoon.

Tuesday, Jan 26, 2009

Ah, ever have one of those days where you just feel like you are running in circles and you cannot get out of your own way....all that, plus 4 kids running all around and between your legs, and one can start to feel frazzled quickly. That was me today. Meghan woke up whining and would not let up all day. She had to be on me or near me, which is par for the course with her, but I swear I tripped over her at least a dozen times. John was not much better with his constant requests for snacks starting about one minute after he finished his cereal. I am thankful for the American school system that required my two big girls to be at school all day. But when they came in the door, LOOK OUT. Snack requests, whining about what I did or did not pack for lunch, stories about the day, questions about what WE did while they were at school (note to self--the answer to this question should always be: "we did NOTHING, and that nothing was far from fun if you must know"). God forbid we venture out to CVS to pick up a prescription--we are not allowed to do that without the older two! Ha, if they only knew the "fun" things we do all day---let's see--sweeping the kitchen, endless laundry, bathing the two little ones, lunch, snacks, breaking up fights, and oh yea, a trip to the library. Shhhh, that part is a secret. No fun allowed unless it includes all four kiddos.
As I put them all to bed tonight, I reminded them in a loving, but frazzled mom kind of way that I love them but that unless there was blood or vomit, I did not want to return upstairs until it was MY bedtime. Sweet dreams everyone!