The Hardest Part

I found out the exact time of Jay's departure yesterday. Something weird happened. I started bawling uncontrollably. Where did that come from? I haven't cried at all since I found out he was leaving. I was going to be the stoic wife. (right...)

I had known Jay has to leave for some time now.  I have been focusing on survival with just the kids and I.  Really, it isn't going to be so bad.  He spent three years in the recruiting field and was hardly home. So this won't be so different.  The only extra cog is the fact that I haven't been here long enough to develop those friendships that I know that I will rely on for the next year. I won't have my Misty, Lisa, or Jackie. That stings.

Maybe it was the loss of a companion that was breaking my heart. We are so busy with him and his work, and me with three kids and a household to run that we don't take time for ourselves, anyway.  We had date night a few weekends ago.  We just went to a noisy sports bar, then watched a movie at home. We got bored, so we went and picked the kids up three hours early.  Did we do that so we wouldn't have to have a conversation? Did we drown ourselves in noise and then the silence of watching a movie on purpose?  Maybe we just love our family and genuinely missed the kids. I really don't know. I know that I miss my husband already.

I got really sick on Sunday night. Jay had Monday off, so he got Madelyn off to school and managed Hannah for me.  To keep the kids quiet after school, Jay and the girls looked up Disney vacations. They priced Disney World and Disney Cruises.  They all came running in and jumping on the bed excited to tell me what they've been doing. They were geared up and happy.  Even though we can't afford it, and they knew it, they still spoke of the images of their dream come true with sparkles in their eyes and goofy grins on their faces. And that wasn't just Jay, the kids, too!  That is what I will miss.

I'm not worried about me or the kids for this deployment at all. I am worried about saying 'goodbye'. That is always the hardest part for me.  Peter Pan has been quoted as saying, "Never say goodbye. Goodbye means leaving, and leaving means forgetting." I don't think that will apply to us. I do hope that I can forget the 'goodbye' itself. Its so painful.

I am concerned about the conditions that Jay will be living in. In my opinion, M*A*S*H #4077 had it way better than the camp Jay will be in.  But, we shall see. It may be fun for him. He is happy to be out of recruiting and back in the 'real' Army.  I'd post pictures, but it isn't close enough to Halloween to be scaring all of you.

Yep. Goodbyes suck. But, Misty taught her daughter that you can't have hellos without goodbyes.

Very wise.

So, until the next 'hello'...

Unwind or Unplug?

It has become apparent to us that some things are not missed until they are taken from us. But, how often do we realize that some things are not necessary until they are gone, too?

When Jay gets home from work, or home from anything for that matter, he changes into his shorts and sits in his La-Z-Boy recliner.  The T.V. comes on, the laptop comes out, and the cell phone gets plugged in to recharge.

When Madelyn gets home from school, she gets thirty minutes to 'unwind' before homework and chores. She pulls out the iPad and watches NetFlix.

Hannah loves Barbie. She turns her T.V. on and puts a Barbie DVD in herself. She tunes the world out for about twenty minutes, then plays with her Barbie dolls while watching the movie.

When I am not with Audrey, who has proven to be pretty difficult this past week, I am checking messages on the computer, working on my blog, or playing on Pinterest.com.

We all have our vices. We all need something to help mellow us out from our day.  If I didn't have a family to care for, and I am not saying that I don't adore my family, I would be out walking or going to aerobics classes at the gym. I love that stuff. But how many of these vices do we really need?

Yes, technology is great, and yes, there are stories out there about how it is starting to isolate family members from each other. Yesterday was a great example, because our power went out for three hours.

Jay was livid. His sports analysis on the T.V. was gone. He couldn't surf the web because the router couldn't function without electricity.  He had his phone. But the battery was near dead.

And the air conditioner shut off. It was in mid- to upper-ninetys out.

Hannah came screaming out of her room, "My T.V. is broken!"  She tried to turn Jay's on. It didn't work. She got upset again.

I just looked at my family.  Madelyn and I were doing her homework at the table. She listened to the expletives coming from her father and watched Hannah's temper tantrum in awe.

"This is terrible," I said. Every one agreed with me. This housing was in such shambles that they can't keep the power on, was the consent.  That wasn't what I was commenting on. I was ashamed of the way my family was behaving.

"Well, we get to interact with each other for entertainment, now. How about that?" I stated it pretty matter-of-factly.

Jay got up and went to the bedroom. He announced that he had a headache.

Hannah, through tears and gasping sobs, said, "Alright."

Madelyn was excited.

But Audrey had lost her last paci. So I had to load the kids up and take them to Wal-Mart for a fresh batch. We enjoyed each other on that trip. There was nothing for us to rush home to. No television. No video games. No iPad. Just darkness and our senses of humor. We grabbed McDonald's on the way back and ate at our table and actually had a conversation. We could hear each other because the T.V. wasn't blaring sports at us. It was great.

Afterwards, I snapped some of those glow sticks and put them in the bubble bath for the girls. They had a blast chasing them in the dark. It was amazing how much they illuminated the room!

I was really sad that Jay wasn't feeling well enough to enjoy our time together. He was playing soduku on his phone, waiting for his ibuprofen to kick in in the bedroom.

I may flip the breaker tonight. Just to have some quality time with my family.

We'll see if Jay gets another headache.

Prepositions are Important

We spent most of the day in the house, yesterday.  Audrey is developing a cold, and Madelyn and Hannah are getting over the stomach virus.  It was a good day to stay indoors.

Except, there isn't much to do in this tiny space.  So we became creative.

We took boxes and turned them into cars. Then we were going to place them in front of the television to have a drive-in theater.  It was a lot of fun, for me. Hannah decided to make her own "craft" and Madelyn got on a birthday card tangent. She made one for me. So, how could I be upset.

So, I made cars out of boxes to simulate a drive-in theater.

Here is Madelyn's

Hannah got finished with her project and held it up for all to see. It was a mass of glue, sequins, and ribbon.

"Oh, so pretty, Hannah! Go hang it on the fridge with the rest of your pictures."

She was down and gone. She was on a mission. After a while, I heard the refrigerator open and knew she was after food. The kid is always eating.

We (meaning 'I') cleaned up the mess and we all went off to bed.  We ('I') spent so much time on the cars that there was no time for a movie. We decided it would be better to have a drive-thru breakfast experience the next morning, instead.

Hannah announced that it was time to wake-up around six this morning. I rolled out of bed and trudged into the kitchen. I opened the fridge for milk for her cereal and I found her craft project on the shelf. Humph. What is this doing here. I picked up up and analyzed groggily.

Then it hit me.

I told Hannah to put it ON the fridge. She put it IN the fridge.

She must think I'm an idiot.

What Is That Smell?!?

I have no quirky intro for this one. The title says it all.

I had a pretty good day, yesterday, after digging the quarter out of the toilet and all. I spent the afternoon visiting with a neighbor. Audrey and Hannah went down for their naps like champs. And, I got to watch some t.v. that wasn't sports related, nor Disney or PBS. It was a pretty good day.

After I got home from picking Madelyn up from school, I cleaned the kitchen. I wiped the counters down, loaded the dishwasher, and cranked it on. The house echoed with the woosh-swoosh of one of the best inventions known to motherhood.

Hannah brought me her flash cards. She has some with pictures on them so she can learn the names of things around her. She mastered these almost a year ago, but she has begun using the cards to make up stories. She lays them out and tells me how each card fits into the plot. It is very entertaining.

Madelyn was busy designing dresses. She is my fashionista and spends her time nurturing her creative juices.

After about forty minutes of relaxing with the family, I went in to the kitchen to get supper organized. Or, at least to get it out of the freezer.  I was immediately repulsed by the smell in the kitchen.

"Eww, honey. What is that smell? It smells like burnt plastic. It smells like someone has left an emergency brake on or an electrical fire." Yes, I know exactly what it smells like when the emergency brake is left on. My husband does it all the time. I may have done it a few.  It was on my tractor, though. So, the lack of cab and the open wheel made it evident quickly.  Anyway, I digress...

Jay comes in right behind me.

"Unplug everything," he says.  We start sniffing the air like bassett hounds.  We unplug everything but the refrigerator, dishwasher and stove.

"Should I call housing and report it?" I am always wanting to report everything.

"No, stay close, but give it a moment. See if it goes away or gets stronger."

"Alright."

We go into the living room, but I can't concentrate on the girls.  I am actually worried. Images of our house in flames and us standing on the sidewalk circle my head. I get up and march right back in there, determined to figure it out.

I sniff everywhere.  I sniff until the point where I can't smell anything strange at all.  I open the coffee container and take a deep whiff.  That clears me up! I can smell the strange smell again.  It was near the sink.  So I sniff around that.  I sniff up high, then I sniff down low.

WHAM! It hits me on my way to the down low. About hip high. At the sink. Garbage disposal? I didn't unplug that. I hung my head down and just hovered there inhaling the plastic smell. Humph. I have no idea.

While my head was there, I thought about how Hannah likes to turn the 'Heat Dry' off on my dishwasher. This irritates me. I like things to be dry and non-spotty when I open the dishwasher.

THE HEATING ELEMENT IN THE DISHWASHER!

I yell at Jay that I found it.  I open the dishwasher and there in the bottom, the top of one of my plastic travel coffee mugs was laying across the heating element.  It had blown off the top rack and landed there.  It was melting. It was melting quickly. And it was stinky.

I was so bummed. It was the lid to my BeautiControl coffee mug. It was my favorite. Tupperware made it specifically for BeautiControl one month and I was only able to get one of them. Humph.

Jay retrieved it for me and ran cold water over it in the sink.

"Wait! Do you think you can mold it back? Just push the warm plastic back together. Then we can screw it on to the mug to re-thread it!" I acted like I was joking. But this woman doesn't joke when it comes to her coffee and her coffee mug.

He was gentle. He laid it in the sink, placed his hand on my back and quietly called time of death: 1646 hrs.

We hung our heads, and slowly walked to the trash can. We buried it beneath a paper towel.  The mug followed later this morning. I couldn't keep them apart. They have been together too long to deprive one of the other.

As I sat on the couch, reflecting on all the wonderful memories we shared together, I could only think of one comforting phrase.

This, too, shall pass.

I just wished the smell went away as fast.  Yuck.

I still think Jay could have salvaged it... :)

The Best Hiding Place, Ever!

Hannah growls. Hanna growls a lot. Well, she is part dinosaur, you know.  Dinosaurs growl. I tried it. It is not so appealing when Mommy growls, apparently.  But, some days, a Mommy just feels the need to growl.

Last night, Madelyn decided she was big enough for an alarm clock. Out of the blue, she is in dire need of an alarm clock.  I received one for my birthday from my Grandma Shirley when I was in Second Grade.  Yes. I still have it. And now Madelyn is using it. I set it for seven a.m. and everyone went to bed.

I was up eight times last night.  Three with Audrey, took Hannah back to her bed (climbs in with us quite regularly) three times, took Madelyn back to her bed (rarely climbs into bed with us, but knew Hannah was getting away with it and thought she could), and then to chase rats from my living room. The rat part was part of my vivid imagination working. I dream eccentrically.  I tend to act them out.

I was up at six-thirty this morning feeling pretty perky, considering the night. Maybe I was happy that the rats weren’t really there in the first place.

After I got ready for my day, I went in to check on Madelyn. I heard her mumbling. I found her in her closet picking out her clothes. I asked if her alarm went off. She said that it had, and she had shut it off and was getting ready for school.

Score! She is ready for an alarm clock.  I hope it lasts.

After we took Madelyn to school, Hannah and I played.  Hannah had found a quarter and wanted to play hide-and-seek. I told her I would, but changed the rules. Our house is nine hundred square feet. Not much room for Mommy to hide. So we played hide-the-quarter.  I went first.

I ‘hid’ the quarter in the middle of the living room floor. She found it quickly.  I hid it on her pillow. She found it, too.  Then, she insisted that she hide it.

“Alright,” I said. I loaded the dishwasher until I heard the “I’m ready!” bellow from the back of the house.

I could not find that silly thing.  I was exasperated. She wouldn’t give me hints or play hot-or-cold with me. Finally I had to concede.

“Where is that quarter, Hannah?”

“All clean, Mommy!”

Sink? No.  Washing machine? No. She couldn’t have slipped it into the dishwasher while I was working there. Checked anyway. She is sneaky. No. Laundry basket? No.

“Hannah, seriously? Did you eat it?” She has a habit of doing that.

“No, Mommy.  See?” She ran off. I found her, and her secret hiding spot.

She lifted the lid on our toilet and just beamed.

“See, Mommy? All clean!”

Eye roll. Head slap. And, eventually, a grin. Yes. All clean.

The P/X is Rated G

Have you ever walked into a room and felt everyone staring at you like you had your dress tucked into your underwear?

Today was ‘errand’ day.  After the struggle of waking up forty minutes late, yet still getting Madelyn to school on time, I managed to get the house cleaned and the youngest down for a nap.  Hannah danced in the living room while I worked on the computer.

An hour later, Audrey woke up, had a bite to eat, and we were off.  First stop was to be the med counter at the Crossing, then the Shopette for a tank of gas, and, finally, the Self-Help building for some grass seed.

The three of us strolled up to the medicine counter. I ordered some allergy meds and waited patiently at the window. The girls were sitting quietly in the cart, noting that everyone was staring at them with a huge smile.  I get that a lot. My kids are kind of cute. 

After signing for the meds, I turned the cart around, and headed towards the P/X. No, it wasn’t on my original list, but there was a sale flyer in the cart that advertised my Secret antiperspirant/deodorant for $1.  It was normally over $2.50, so this was a great deal.

Hannah decided she needed to walk. I didn’t argue. I wanted her to be more independent. So, I placed her on the floor next to me, and kept on chugging along. The marketplace wasn’t busy at all, so I let her dally behind me a few steps. The marketplace is a huge square area that is full of kiosks that you could find at a mall.  Some are there permanently, and some have vendors that may only stay a few days at a time.  So, there is usually something different there for me to see. I was gawking at a new vendor that had t-shirts with catchy phrases on them when I realized that my shadow was a little farther back than I had liked.

I kind of flicked my head back and asked Hannah to step up the pace. She replied with something of a mumble.

“What, sweetie,” I asked as I perused the shirts.

“Mom! My diapaht berkshen!”

“Honey, I can’t understand you with that paci. You were supposed to leave that paci in the car. You remember the rules. Paci in the car and in bed only.” Yep, still fingering all the t-shirts. I found a great one with several dinosaurs. Hannah loves dinosaurs. I wanted an extra small for her. Oh! A pink one!

“Mom! Mirsh dipath brickensh!”

“Han-“

“Excuse me, Miss,” the vender broke in. He just grinned at me. Then he pointed.

He pointed in Hannah’s direction.

Uh-oh.  I turned my head and the world spun in slow motion. Everyone there was smiling at me. Yep. Hannah had pulled a ‘Hannah’.

Standing in the middle of the marketplace was my darling, two year-old, Hannah. She was standing with her dress pulled above her ears waiting for me to figure out what she was trying to tell me.

“Mom! My diaper broken!”

The Velcro had worked loose and her diaper had dropped to the floor.

My daughter was standing in the middle of the marketplace butt-naked, with her dress held high for all to see her dilemma.

And I was preoccupied with a t-shirt.

After mentally patting myself on the back for being such a great, attentive mother, I scurried over to her and quickly reattached the diaper.

“Thanks, Mom!” Hannah gave me a huge hug and snuggled into my neck. I had felt terrible.  But, I know that she forgave me, and she would move past this entire incident.

I hope that I can.

An Army Mommy's Wishlist

Birthday lists are usually easy for me. I start months before it is due and add practical things to it, so I don't have to purchase them myself. I love chip clips, and rubber scrapers, by the way.

This year, I approached it a little differently.  I thought about making an Army Mommy's Wishlist. It would be something like the following:

A smile to greet my children with every morning (I am so not a morning person)
Cheerful heart while I do laundry, because some children do not have clean clothes to wear
Patience while I help a sick child, to allow their immune system to work as God has designed it.
Respect for my husband's uniform, even if it sends him to hostile places beyond my grip.

But, after a bit, I decided to scrap that idea. Get serious.
Here is my REAL birthday list:

·      Night Nanny

·      Trip to Disney World

·      Credit Cards paid off

·      Car loans paid off

·      Free food so I can cook what I want and not have to budget

·      New Bedroom Furniture

·      New coordinating bedroom furniture for the girls’ room

·      Organizational specialist to come help with my house

·      Financial provisions to follow through with organizational specialist recommendations

·      Beautifully landscaped front yard

I do understand how that list can not really be realized. So I made another one. It is a lot simpler.

·      Insulated cold drink cups that don’t sweat (dishwasher safe, pls)

·      IKEA gift card(s)

·      Six sets of 2 White KASSETT CD boxes with lids (Article 801.154.60)

·      Six sets of 2 White KASSETT DVD boxes with lids (Article 401.858.41)

·      Any size of KASSETT boxes with lids in white!

·      Anything that will help with storage of ‘crap’ in my house

·      Wireless printer that works with my iPhone 4. See here for models. I need it to scan, too.

·      Cookbooks for picky eaters

·      MacGourmet Deluxe 3 software (For MAC, to manage recipes; really want this!)

·      101 Questions Children ask about God (and other books like it)

·      New kitchen mat for sink area

·      Stainless Steel Batter Dispenser (for pancake day!)

·      NICE storage boxes for the girls’ clothes when between sizes. (Like this, only with a lid)

·      Awesome house slippers, with soles, that I can put on without using my hands

·      iTunes gift cards (for iPad Apps)

·      Freezer full of food

·      9” x 13” cake pan with a snap on lid

·      Automatic timers for wall outlets for lamps and my Scentsy Warmers

I am aware of my intentions here.  I began with this total utopian mind frame.  I was all sentimental and nostalgic.  Then something selfish kicked in and took over. I wanted what I wanted.  After realizing none of those were going to be possible, the sensible 'Mother' in me kicked in and rounded out the list.


I can't control these urges, anymore than I can control the formatting of this post (Yes, I am a control freak, and the hanging-indent is driving me crazy!) But, its what makes us human. We are all human. Even Moms, and especially Army Moms.

Rewind! Rewind!

Its amazing how much patience you can have when you really need it.  Sometimes.

Madelyn has been after me to make a Red Velvet cake. She knows that my birthday is approaching and she knows that it is my favorite birthday treat.  She is sucking up because she also knows that her birthday follows mine. :)

I finally managed to get a cake mix at the commissary.  After school last Monday, we got my trusty Kitchen Aid mixer out and began to gather the other ingredients.  We didn't get far. I had only two eggs. We needed three.

So, after listening to Madelyn whine about not getting to make a cake, I started to put everything away.

"I will go back to the store tomorrow, Madelyn, and get you an egg."

Tuesday came.  There was a briefing about my husband's impending travels, so I didn't make it to the store on Tuesday.

On Wednesday, I had Audrey's doctor's appointment. (See 'Intimidating Experiences') I did run errands that day, but managed to forget to get eggs. Ugh.

Another 'tomorrow' came, and it was my MoPS meeting. I rushed to the store after dropping Madelyn off at school to buy some bagels. I couldn't get eggs then. They would sit in car for hours. Have to go it another time.

On Friday, four days after Monday, and four days after I had promised to get eggs 'tomorrow', I had managed to purchase eggs.  Yey!

At one o'clock, I laid three eggs out on my counter to come to room temperature. I went and picked Madelyn up from school, and at three-fifteen, we started, again, to make a Red Velvet cake.  We got the mixer out, again, and mixed our goodies together. We carefully timed the thirty second mixing period, then then two-minute beating period.

"Mom! How about cupcakes?"

"Sure! Get the papers out and line the muffin tin."

And it was done.

I began filling the liners with the deep red batter as Madelyn sat on the edge of the sink licking the beaters.  I turned and placed the tin in the oven and set the timer.

"Only nineteen minutes, Madelyn."

"Great mom," she said with batter from ear to ear and a little up her nose. "But, when do we put the eggs in?"

Whaaaat? Crap. There they were. Sitting on the counter.

I had forgotten the eggs.

Madelyn giggled as I opened the oven, pulled the tin from the rack, and began to milk the batter from each liner back into my batter bowl. I gave her a glare. Then I smiled. "It's alright," I kept saying to myself. It's an easy fix. I explained to her how even though I was totally exasperated by this entire experience, that I was not going to give up and that we will prevail.

I added the eggs and beat the batter a while longer. We decided that cupcakes were not totally necessary and elected to just make a nine by thirteen cake.

After the cake had spent thirty-three minutes in the oven, I decided to turn it on.

Sheesh.

One More Day

Diamond Rio has a great song. Its called "One More Day". Its about a loved one coming back from Heaven to spend just twenty-four hours here on Earth.  I had that experience this summer.

No, it wasn't my dad. Although, he does visit me regularly.  He teases me during my day through Hannah, and smiles at my life in my dreams.

It was someone else.

I am not one of those who dwells on her high school years. It was a typical four-year experience. It is the people that I dwell on. Friends, teachers, staff, and their families as well.

I helped with the boys' basketball team. I helped keep the scorebook, tally stats, and help with practices.  I was on the dance team, but that was the limit of my athletic ability.  I hated competitions. I loved watching them, however.

The boys' coach was our Health and P.E. instructor as well. We only had to take that class as freshmen, but that was long enough to develop a huge respect for him. It was easy to help a person when they are easy to help.

Coach had a father that was out of this world. He was so jolly and friendly. He remembered your name. That is a wonderful feeling to have when someone cares enough to remember your name.  He came to every game and was the team's biggest fan.  That was a great part of my high school days. Watching Coach's dad.

After my dad died, I heard that Coach's dad had passed away. I felt terrible. But, I knew that Heaven was getting a great cheerleader!

This summer, thirteen years later, I found Coach's phone number by chance. I dialed it to see if it still worked. It did! His wife answered and it was a wonderful 'catch-up' conversation. She shared their info and I was able to meet up with them for their son's basketball tournament.

I walked into that gymnasium and welled up with tears. It was good to see Coach and his wife. But, standing there, next to Coach, was his father. His dad was standing right next to him. I couldn't see. The lights began to dim and I stammered for words. Yes, I do that a lot. But, I actually couldn't speak. I acted like nothing was out of the ordinary, but was so confused.

After watching a bit of the game, I finally had enough courage to tell Coach's wife what had happened and wondered how I might have gotten so confused.

She told me it was her father who had passed away. What a confusing wave of emotions I had that day. The relief to see someone who's soul I had been praying for actually walking the earth, then the sorrow learning it was another who had lost a parent.

I left after that very entertaining ball game and headed home with all of these thoughts swirling around in my head.

What would you do if you had the same encounter with someone you had believed for so long had passed away?

All for Nothing

There are days where I wish I could turn back time. There are days where I wish I could fast-forward time. I've never thought I would have a day where they both happened at the same time.

Audrey has been having some rough nights. She is getting settled in with some new medications. She loves her mother dearly and can't seem to part with her. This includes all hours of the night.

Today was day three of cranky nine month-old survival.  I was exhausted. But, silly me, I began a project, anyway.  Dig out the 6-12 month winter clothes storage tub from the stack.

Audrey's room is now the storage room, with a crib.  We have moved from an 1,800 sq. ft. home to a 953 sq. ft. home. It's been difficult.  But, it is home.

After moving six tubs of girl clothing out of the way, I finally yelled, "Eureka," and did my happy dance. They were in the bottom tub. Of course.  At that very moment, Audrey began shrieking from her swing and Hannah had come running in from her nap. She wasn't in a very helpful mood at all. She plopped down on the rocking chair and began fussing herself.

I just hung my head.  My small victory was thwarted by two very upset little girls.

"Okay, okay."  I realized that it was five o'clock. Supper time. Everything happens at once. I just wished that I could get past this drama and see eight o'clock on the wall. Supper would be fed and cleaned up, and the girls would be cuddled and snuggled in their beds.

The clock did change. It said five-o-two.

The decibels were increasing in the house with all the madness of my littlest girls and their vocal chords. I quickly began cleaning up. Biggest tub on bottom. Three mid-sized tubs on that one. Then the two little tubs on those. After checking for tippage, I deemed my tower safe and secure.

I picked up Audrey and held Hannah's hand. I spun around to smile one last victory smile at my 6-12 month winter clothes tub, excited that I had finished my project in just fifteen minutes.

There it was, smiling right back at me.

On the bottom. Right where it was to begin with.

Crap.

Do you understand what 'understand' means?

Scolding children is always a challenge. Its hard because you are upset about whatever it is that they did, and their reaction to your rant may not always be what you expect.

Hannah baptized Gramma Mary's floor this past June.  I had just checked on her in the bath, and went and sat down in the living room.  I swear, three seconds later, Gramma walked in the back door and started screaming, "Where is all this water coming from?"  Crap.

I dashed up to look, too. Sure enough. A river was making its way from the bathroom and down the back hall.

Upon our hasty investigation, Hannah was discovered to be pouring water by the cupfuls out of the bath onto the super big case of toilet paper kept by the tub.  Whoops.

She was disciplined and life went on.

After we moved to El Paso, Hannah struck again. She poured water out of the tub. She was caught cup-handed, spanked, and removed from the bath. This was a suitable punishment because she adored bath time.

Three weeks later, she did it again! But this time, she pulled toilet paper into the tub, as well.  I lost it. I grabbed her by the arms to hold her still and leaned down so our eyes met.

"Hannah! You can't do that! You will ruin the floor. The water belongs in the bathtub. You are getting a spanking for pouring the water out. *spank* You are getting a spanking for ruining the toilet paper, too *spank* Now, don't ever do that again, do you hear me? Do you understand?"

Hannah looked at me bright eyed and replied...


"No."

She didn't understand?!? I had to leave the room and laugh. I didn't want her to see me laughing and think it was a positive reinforcer.  But it was pretty darn cute.  Now I need to figure out how to ask her if she gets what I'm saying.

This is my Hannah

Watch What You Say

With three kids, I have learned that what I say at any given moment, can and will be repeated by those tiny little mouths of my young ones.

I have always tried to keep my tongue bitten. It is very hard. For those of you who have known me the longest, you know how much like my father I truly am.  But now that there are kids around, I have to try even harder.

Its easy to try the 'replacement' method. You know the 'S' expletive can be replaced with 'Sugar'.  My two year-old uses 'Crap' a lot. So much to the point where I have begun using it. (See previous blogs.) She got that from her Grandmother. Thank you for that!

But today I had a huge outburst out of nowhere. I was at my MoPS group working on a craft. I was painting a plate. I realized that I was painting on the wrong side. Again, if you know me, you understand. Out of the blue, I yell, "Stacy, you retard!"

Whaaaat?!? Where did that come from? We had just heard a devotion about a mother who had a mentally troubled son and she never gave up on him.  Everyone was sensitive to children with special needs in the room after hearing that story. And what do I do? I yell "Retard," for all to hear.  I just knew all eyes behind me were boring their way into my skull. How could I be so insensitive? What makes it worse is the fact that I, nor anyone in my household, uses that term. Ever. Crap. Er...ugh!

My friend next to me was comforting me. She said that people can get too sensitive to things like that.  It helped. A little. For a while.

So I decide to trudge on with my project. I flipped the plate and started painting on the correct side. It was adorable! I made a pink purse with an 'H' monogram on it. I was just a humming along, chatting with the ladies, and I decided I needed to rinse the pink paint from the paint brush and head on into the black. So, I reached across and dunked my brush into the water for a good rinsing.

Only...it wasn't the water cup.

Yep. I did it again. Space Case. I plunged my brush into my cup of pink lemonade.

"Oh!" I said. But, I stopped myself there. Who knows what else would come out of my mouth. The verbal control was present. Yey! But, my mind started following the path of what would I have said? My imagination has free run on my day. I got so carried away playing out possible outcomes to possible outbursts that I got thirsty.

So I reached out to get a drink.

Yep. From the lemonade cup.

The moment it hit my lips, I stopped. Sheesh.

I quit.

My Monogrammed Plate and Me. The baby is borrowed.

Intimidating Experiences

Is it the Doctor himself that has the power to intimidate, or his staff?

Audrey has been having some issues with her diet, my diet (I'm nursing), and her digestive system.  Recently, we've been referred to a specialist to find out just what is going on.

Upon calling his office to make the initial appointment, I was greeted by a very speedy speaker. It was very hard to understand what she was saying. See, I live on the border near Mexico, and most of the people here are native Spanish-speakers.  So, their English has a slight twist to it. I don't mind it if I can read their lips. But, the phone is a different monster.  (And if you question my phone skills, please see the first blog posted.)

After saying, "Pardon," a few times, I could tell that I was making the receptionist frustrated.  She began to talk very slowly.

"New. Patients. Must. Phone. Between. Nine. And. Eleven. In. The. Morning. To. Make. An. Appointment."

"Oh," was my reply. SERIOUSLY? I can't even make an appointment because it is two o'clock in the afternoon?  Alright. Whatever.

I phone the next day at nine-thirty. After taking my insurance information, contact information, Audrey's measurements and weight, and being placed on hold for three minutes in between each of my replies, I was given my appointment time.  I thanked her for her help and wrote "Audrey Doctor Santos" on Wednesday, August 31st at 2:15 P.M.

Relieved that I got that task out of the way without stuttering or stammering, (again, see first blog) I went on my merry way of housework.  Then it hit me.

Crap.

I have to pick Madelyn up from school at 3:15. How am I going to get all the way back here from the other side of the mountain?  Way to go, Space Case. You were so intimidated by that receptionist that you didn't even THINK about your other obligations. Sheesh.  No problem. Jay can get Madelyn. Yes, Jay can pick her up. He's still here.

After phoning Jay, it was set. Emergency diverted. He will be able to get off of work to get Madelyn in time.

Well, that appointment was kept and I noticed a sign in the waiting room. 'There will be a $25 fee assessed if cancelled appointments are not made at least 24 hours in advance.'  I arrived at two o'clock so I would have time to fill out the 'New Patient' paperwork.  It was three o'clock when I noticed the sign, still waiting to be seen. I wondered to myself, "if you are going to charge me if I have to cancel at the last minute, will you reimburse me for MY time that I waste sitting in the little room when you are running massively behind schedule?" Just another stab at the intimidation factor they have going there.

Anyway, the nurse called us in after another fifteen minutes.  The doctor ordered a few tests. After those were performed and evaluated, his office called to let me know the results.

"The doctor would like you to come in with Audrey to go over the results of the tests.  Your next appointment is Wednesday, September 14th at 2:45 P.M."

"Okay, got it. We will be there."

STACY YOU DID IT AGAIN!

"Wait! Wait! I can't! Something is going on that day. Umm...what was it? It's Heather's birthday. No, something else... I have to get my daughter from school!" I shouted in time. She was still on the line.  She was confused, but still there. "I am available from nine o'clock until two-thirty," I say.  That is a huge window. "Get me something in there."

"Well, we open the office at two. If you can be here at ten 'til two, we will see you promptly at two. But, you must be here at ten 'til two."

"Okay. Got it. Thank you!"  Then, I thought, why not give me two o'clock in the first place?

So, today was September 14th. I had meticulously planned my morning. Maddy to school, Audrey nap, Hannah and Audrey snack, run errands, home by eleven, girls' lunch, girls' nap, wake at ten 'til one, leave for doctor's appointment.

And I got it all done!  Audrey woke up on time for a quick snack. She helped me gather items for the trip around the mountain and the wait in the office. Tippy cups. Munchies. Baby rattles. Loaded iPhone with Little Einsteins for Hannah. Pacifiers. All ready to go.  Just have to go get Hannah.  Wake Hannah from nap. Load girls into truck. Back out driveway, and head off to UTEP Children's Hospital.

After the forty minute drive around the mountain, we arrive on campus. Stop at every corner for the little college girls to cross the street, taking their sweet little size-two time. We make it to the top of the hill and find a parking space.

"Mommy! Where my shoes? My shoes gone!"

"Whaaaaaaat??? Hannah? Where are your shoes?"

"I don't know."

Crap.  In my haste, I swooped up my precious two year-old and forgot to grab her shoes.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

"Well, just stay in the stroller, please?!? Okay?"

"Okay, Mommy!"

Bless her little heart. (I live in the South. Everything is Darlin' and every heart is blessed here.) She stayed in her stroller and was a champ! I have a Sit-n-Stand stroller and she sat in the middle seat part facing forward and kept her feet tucked in the basket. No one noticed she didn't have shoes. At least, no one pointed it out to us.

I was so worried about making a good impression on this doctor and his staff that I forgot my daughter's shoes. I was mortified.

I vowed to never again let anyone have that much psychological pressure over me.

Well, until I make the follow-up appointment in two weeks.

I am sure that will be another Blog entry.

The Greatest

Everyone has something to offer but me.

I would pout about this statement on a regular basis.  My brother has a connection with Philips Electronics, and his wife has one with Ford.  My mom has a connection with her David and Misty has one with the Bible.

I have a degree in Mathematics and Secondary Education, yet, no one ever called and asked me for help. Well, Jay's co-worker did for her college algebra. You know, I felt alive again doing that math. I loved it. I felt like 'me' again!

But, today, I heard God. I end my prayers at night with a plea to help me hear Him, and today, he answered!

I was, again, dwelling on how useful everyone else can be.  Then I got the head-slap from Our Father and he actually yelled at me.

"I gave you three children. You are a professional mommy. I gave you the Mommy Connection, and that is the greatest."

Amen

Meeting New People

Why does everything have to be so profound? Why do we have to be so witty to feel accepted?

I joined a mommy's group a few weeks ago. It is just finding its feet and needing volunteers.  I am getting ready to be at home alone with three fun, quirky little girls and decided that volunteering would be a great way to keep some sanity. Or, to meet new ladies to share (to be read as 'whine') with. Okay. Maybe 'vent' is a better term.  I am in charge of the snacks for the meeting that is approaching in three days.  After being given a list of nine names, I began to phone each and every one of them asking if they could bring an item for the food table.  Panic sets in when there is a live, breathing, human being on the other end of that line for me.

...Quick...Think...I should have written a script for this...ummm.."Hi! This is Stacy from the MoPS group. Can you bring food? Bagels? Butter?"

Ugh.  Why me? I used to be so organized. Had my wits gathered. But I turn into an immediate dope when I have to speak to somebody new. Its easy to start off with a laugh. It lightens the mood. But I just can't and I turn into such a space case.

So, if you get a phone call from me for any reason, please have patience. Don't judge me for my phone skills.

However, this whole experience does not grant any sympathy for telemarketers. You are still slime.