It has been awhile my friends! So, a quick update before the "Big Day".
We learned last fall that Sean's company had been sold and his job would eventually dissolve, so we've been going back and forth about moving farther away or going back to the Mitten...the mitten is winning which is bothersome to me because I won't get to finish school here in Indiana.
We also learned last fall that our oldest, Hooligan A, has a rare disease called juvenile dermatomyositis. The skinny on that is that her condition is getting better. A few of her liver enzymes aren't cooperating, but everything is looking good. She is responding to her treatment well and so hopefully within a few months we'll be backing off some of her daily meds. Victory is hers!!!
SOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Onto the "Big Day"!
Most of you know that tomorrow is Hooligan A's first day of KINDERGARTEN!!! She is going to a private catholic school (I am paranoid about the relentless teasing in a public school because of her constant sunblock applying and hat wearing. Those Nuns will set teasers straight!), and she couldn't be more excited about getting to wear a skirt EVERYDAY and dressy shoes.
Mommy is excited for her to learn to read. We have been trying to teach her all summer, but she likes to pretend she "can't remember" or that it's "too hard" so we let her play on starfall.com (wonderful site, btw) and read to her and her cohorts at bedtime. It is going to be a big exciting year! Learning to read, writting better, and a bunch of time away from away from her brother and sister.
That's all I have today, I am a little busy preparing a back to school snack! I promise to write again soon instead of in a couple of months!
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Just Call me Ellen...
Hello, My name is Beth, but you may as well call me Ellen...Ellen Griswold. My husband Sean will respond to Clark. We are a modern day Clark and Ellen Griswold!
No, we don't tie dead family members to the roof of our roadster (we have a mini van, still no dead relatives), and we don't drive cross country with our kids to go to a theme park (Sandusky, OH isn't that far away), no we are more the Christmas vacation kind of Griswolds. We have tree issues and rants that need tylenol for resolution, and exterior illumination is dangerous and expensive. Sean has been hesistant for years to admit the similairies, but tonight, tonight he came to see the light (giggle).
Last year we had a tree that was too tall. As we stood back staring at the tree, I slowly leaned over and said "Clark, do you think there's enough room for the angel on top?", Sean did not see the humor. While driving back from a trip to MI, Sean had some serious road rage issues, I said "Alright Clark, what are you going to do next? Drive us under a truck?!", this time the humor was not lost. At Thanksgiving we had a turkey in opposite Griswold fashion, looked beautiful outside, but was frozen inside. Before the first guests arrived, Sean said he was cancelling Christmas and all holidays next year if the kids didn't learn to get out of the kitchen (immediatley followed by 4 motrins).
Now, if the previous tales haven't told you how much we seem to follow the calamity of the Griswolds, then tonights story ought to bring you around.
Tonight, I finally got to help set up the outside Christmas lights with Clark...I mean Sean! We had everything up, lights lining the porch, small decorated trees and candy canes. Sean asked me to come out and help him hang the $5 wreath that we bought at a garage sale this summer. We're talking a wreath that you hang on the house, ginormous, green, beautiful wreath. Anyway! I go out to to help him, and he has his ladder on the porch ready to climb. As I walk out onto the grass, I hear a loud woosh and I look and see Clark, I mean Sean, sitting on the porch bench, holding onto the ladder. I stop for a moment to ask if he is ok. He responds, "yeah, just having a seat", and he says it with a cheeky grin on his face. Then I get it, the light bulb is on! He seriously had just slid down his ladder and fell backwards!!!!! Granted he did not slide as nearly as far as Clark Griswold did, but I swear to you it did not make it any less funny to see. He had forgotten to lock the extension part of it after we decided the roof was to dangerous to climb on and hang the wreath at the peak. Oh my gosh, I wish I had it on video, so freaking hilarious. I think I have to sleep on the couch tonight for the amount of laughing I did and the amount of "I hate you right now" that I heard as he climbed back up and tied the wreath down while blushing and trying not to giggle.
Just call me Ellen.
PS. This year we have a fake tree. Didn't want to press our luck with having three straight years without a squirrel infestation.
No, we don't tie dead family members to the roof of our roadster (we have a mini van, still no dead relatives), and we don't drive cross country with our kids to go to a theme park (Sandusky, OH isn't that far away), no we are more the Christmas vacation kind of Griswolds. We have tree issues and rants that need tylenol for resolution, and exterior illumination is dangerous and expensive. Sean has been hesistant for years to admit the similairies, but tonight, tonight he came to see the light (giggle).
Last year we had a tree that was too tall. As we stood back staring at the tree, I slowly leaned over and said "Clark, do you think there's enough room for the angel on top?", Sean did not see the humor. While driving back from a trip to MI, Sean had some serious road rage issues, I said "Alright Clark, what are you going to do next? Drive us under a truck?!", this time the humor was not lost. At Thanksgiving we had a turkey in opposite Griswold fashion, looked beautiful outside, but was frozen inside. Before the first guests arrived, Sean said he was cancelling Christmas and all holidays next year if the kids didn't learn to get out of the kitchen (immediatley followed by 4 motrins).
Now, if the previous tales haven't told you how much we seem to follow the calamity of the Griswolds, then tonights story ought to bring you around.
Tonight, I finally got to help set up the outside Christmas lights with Clark...I mean Sean! We had everything up, lights lining the porch, small decorated trees and candy canes. Sean asked me to come out and help him hang the $5 wreath that we bought at a garage sale this summer. We're talking a wreath that you hang on the house, ginormous, green, beautiful wreath. Anyway! I go out to to help him, and he has his ladder on the porch ready to climb. As I walk out onto the grass, I hear a loud woosh and I look and see Clark, I mean Sean, sitting on the porch bench, holding onto the ladder. I stop for a moment to ask if he is ok. He responds, "yeah, just having a seat", and he says it with a cheeky grin on his face. Then I get it, the light bulb is on! He seriously had just slid down his ladder and fell backwards!!!!! Granted he did not slide as nearly as far as Clark Griswold did, but I swear to you it did not make it any less funny to see. He had forgotten to lock the extension part of it after we decided the roof was to dangerous to climb on and hang the wreath at the peak. Oh my gosh, I wish I had it on video, so freaking hilarious. I think I have to sleep on the couch tonight for the amount of laughing I did and the amount of "I hate you right now" that I heard as he climbed back up and tied the wreath down while blushing and trying not to giggle.
Just call me Ellen.
PS. This year we have a fake tree. Didn't want to press our luck with having three straight years without a squirrel infestation.
Monday, November 12, 2012
The last few months
It has been months since I have made a post. Not every story I have to share is funny, sometimes it is just sad or disheartening.
Hooligan A has been diagnosed with Dermatomyisitis. Big word, scary meaning. Basically her immune system has been going non stop fighting an illness that is not there. Adding to her auto immune disease, it has an underlying portion of vasculitis. Her muscles aren't getting enough oxygen and blood flow, so slowly but surely her muscles have been getting weaker and weaker.
In June, her knees developed a red, ever present rash. It didn't go away. Resembeling rug burn, I asked almost daily if her knees hurt or were itchy. She always replies no. I even took her into see her pediatrician. She shared in Hooligan A's thought of it was nothing to worry about. By early August, her hands and feet had the same red rash and tiny white bumps, concerned we took her back in. Hooligan A said nothing hurt still, so we were advised it looked like juvenile arthritis but since she wasn't complaining of pain she refered us to a dermotoligist. By mid September she could no longer get up and down the stairs without help. She would tell that her knees wouldn't "blend" and that she needed help getting down to and off the floor. Back to the pediatrician we went.
This time she asked us to go and see a pediatric rheumatologist in Indianapolis. We had her blood drawn and x-rays taken before her November 19th appointment. By October 25th, the rheumotologist office called and said they were concerned and needed to see her as soon as possible. Our appointment was moved up to the following Monday and we spent an agonizing weekend wondering what was so wrong with our baby.
As soon as the rheumatologist walked into the room she said "You must really be hurting. The good news is, I know what this is and i know how to fix it!". I can not tell you how releiving that statement was, and yet how terrifying to consider what "fixing it" could mean. It means that Hooligan A is the bravest little stinker I know. At 5 years old she has never really been sick. Never needed "pokes" except for immunizations and routine blood tests. Now, she goes through an IV infusion every week and her dad gives her an injection at home once a week too. She takes oral prednisone every morning and swallows it in applesauce like a champ.
I realize that she can live with this. At night I will still have my baby to hold. It doesn't however stop me from crying because she has to go through this. Or that for months I thought she was being whiny because she wanted attention, not because she was frusterated with her unexplainable loss of ability to do all the things she used to be able to do. All the online reports tell of how agonizing this is for kids. How painful it is for them...and of course how it can be fatal if left untreated. Thirty years ago this very well could have been a life ending diagnosis. Thankfully she has an excellent prognosis and we are very blessed to have found it early enough that it didn't get any farther. By all accounts, once we get this in remission she might never experience this again. But watching my baby cry and ask "ow ow are you done yet? stop it" once a week is just heartbreaking. I cry with her and try not to look as sad as I feel.
Does anyone out there have any notes of wisdom? Or encouraging mantras that have helped them through tuff business such as this?
Hooligan A has been diagnosed with Dermatomyisitis. Big word, scary meaning. Basically her immune system has been going non stop fighting an illness that is not there. Adding to her auto immune disease, it has an underlying portion of vasculitis. Her muscles aren't getting enough oxygen and blood flow, so slowly but surely her muscles have been getting weaker and weaker.
In June, her knees developed a red, ever present rash. It didn't go away. Resembeling rug burn, I asked almost daily if her knees hurt or were itchy. She always replies no. I even took her into see her pediatrician. She shared in Hooligan A's thought of it was nothing to worry about. By early August, her hands and feet had the same red rash and tiny white bumps, concerned we took her back in. Hooligan A said nothing hurt still, so we were advised it looked like juvenile arthritis but since she wasn't complaining of pain she refered us to a dermotoligist. By mid September she could no longer get up and down the stairs without help. She would tell that her knees wouldn't "blend" and that she needed help getting down to and off the floor. Back to the pediatrician we went.
This time she asked us to go and see a pediatric rheumatologist in Indianapolis. We had her blood drawn and x-rays taken before her November 19th appointment. By October 25th, the rheumotologist office called and said they were concerned and needed to see her as soon as possible. Our appointment was moved up to the following Monday and we spent an agonizing weekend wondering what was so wrong with our baby.
As soon as the rheumatologist walked into the room she said "You must really be hurting. The good news is, I know what this is and i know how to fix it!". I can not tell you how releiving that statement was, and yet how terrifying to consider what "fixing it" could mean. It means that Hooligan A is the bravest little stinker I know. At 5 years old she has never really been sick. Never needed "pokes" except for immunizations and routine blood tests. Now, she goes through an IV infusion every week and her dad gives her an injection at home once a week too. She takes oral prednisone every morning and swallows it in applesauce like a champ.
I realize that she can live with this. At night I will still have my baby to hold. It doesn't however stop me from crying because she has to go through this. Or that for months I thought she was being whiny because she wanted attention, not because she was frusterated with her unexplainable loss of ability to do all the things she used to be able to do. All the online reports tell of how agonizing this is for kids. How painful it is for them...and of course how it can be fatal if left untreated. Thirty years ago this very well could have been a life ending diagnosis. Thankfully she has an excellent prognosis and we are very blessed to have found it early enough that it didn't get any farther. By all accounts, once we get this in remission she might never experience this again. But watching my baby cry and ask "ow ow are you done yet? stop it" once a week is just heartbreaking. I cry with her and try not to look as sad as I feel.
Does anyone out there have any notes of wisdom? Or encouraging mantras that have helped them through tuff business such as this?
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Why H.B. will never paint.
Even though H.B. is my tough little boy, he also happens to be the whimpy kid when it comes to touching things. Jello is not a food he will eat, so you can imagine all the fun things that are out because of texture.
This 4th holiday the Hubs and I decided to paint out living room (after two years), since we just signed a 2 yr lease and know that we are staying here until I finish college and we are ready to purchase our dream home. We painted half of the living room on the 4th and finished the rest yesterday. Here is the break down of my whimpy kid's helping.
Please note: all conversations from H.B. are typed as he would say it...
"Dare go Mommy!" (painting my already painted way with a sponge brush..)
"Thank You dude."
"Dare go Mommy! (dropping paint filled brush on carpet) Ucky, ucky,ucky" (has paint fingers and it's freaking him out)
"Dammit H.B.! (angrily climbing off of my chair) How am I going to get paint out of carpet?!?! (baby wipes, not kidding) Let me get a baby wipe (wiping his hands clean)"
"Dank ooo Mommy!"
"You're Welcome H.B."
As he walks off, he walks into the wall, painting his entire right arm in Lindhurst Timber...
"Moooooommmmy! Uuuuuucckkkyyyyyyy!"
"What the hell dude! Didn't you figure that out a second ago that the wall was still wet?!?!?!"
"Ucky Mommy"
"Let me get a baby wipe...(wiping him clean)"
"Dank oo Mommy"
"You're welcome H.B., try to stay away from the walls ok?"
"Ok Mommy"
Walking up to paint tray, H.B. bravely and stupidly sticks his fingers into the wet paint...
"(loud screams and lots of crying)"
"OMG! What's the matter? Are you ok?"
"Uuuuuuuuuckyyyyyyyyyy (sobbing)"
--this is where I lose my shit, so imagine lots of cursing and yelling--
"Jesus! What is it going to take for you to leave the damn paint alone!?!?! You don't like it, stay the F out of it!!!! --deep breath-- Come here, I'll get the baby wipes. (wiping at the paint) Look, I give you points for trying repeatedly, but sometimes ya just gotta it give up. you don't like the feel of it, probably never will"
"Ok Mommy. (Giving me a hug, either for soothing purposes, because paint is tramatizing, or for thanks)"
A little while later...
"(Screaming)"
"What is it now!"
--Sean: "He stuck his hand in the wall, I can't see where,but his hand is painted."
"Really H.B.? Grrr Kid, just grr."
I have to cut him some slack, because he's only 2 and 1/2, but come on, after the second painting freak out, you would think he would have let that idea go....
This 4th holiday the Hubs and I decided to paint out living room (after two years), since we just signed a 2 yr lease and know that we are staying here until I finish college and we are ready to purchase our dream home. We painted half of the living room on the 4th and finished the rest yesterday. Here is the break down of my whimpy kid's helping.
Please note: all conversations from H.B. are typed as he would say it...
"Dare go Mommy!" (painting my already painted way with a sponge brush..)
"Thank You dude."
"Dare go Mommy! (dropping paint filled brush on carpet) Ucky, ucky,ucky" (has paint fingers and it's freaking him out)
"Dammit H.B.! (angrily climbing off of my chair) How am I going to get paint out of carpet?!?! (baby wipes, not kidding) Let me get a baby wipe (wiping his hands clean)"
"Dank ooo Mommy!"
"You're Welcome H.B."
As he walks off, he walks into the wall, painting his entire right arm in Lindhurst Timber...
"Moooooommmmy! Uuuuuucckkkyyyyyyy!"
"What the hell dude! Didn't you figure that out a second ago that the wall was still wet?!?!?!"
"Ucky Mommy"
"Let me get a baby wipe...(wiping him clean)"
"Dank oo Mommy"
"You're welcome H.B., try to stay away from the walls ok?"
"Ok Mommy"
Walking up to paint tray, H.B. bravely and stupidly sticks his fingers into the wet paint...
"(loud screams and lots of crying)"
"OMG! What's the matter? Are you ok?"
"Uuuuuuuuuckyyyyyyyyyy (sobbing)"
--this is where I lose my shit, so imagine lots of cursing and yelling--
"Jesus! What is it going to take for you to leave the damn paint alone!?!?! You don't like it, stay the F out of it!!!! --deep breath-- Come here, I'll get the baby wipes. (wiping at the paint) Look, I give you points for trying repeatedly, but sometimes ya just gotta it give up. you don't like the feel of it, probably never will"
"Ok Mommy. (Giving me a hug, either for soothing purposes, because paint is tramatizing, or for thanks)"
A little while later...
"(Screaming)"
"What is it now!"
--Sean: "He stuck his hand in the wall, I can't see where,but his hand is painted."
"Really H.B.? Grrr Kid, just grr."
I have to cut him some slack, because he's only 2 and 1/2, but come on, after the second painting freak out, you would think he would have let that idea go....
Thursday, June 28, 2012
I Love the Sprinkler
It's HOT!
Don't get me wrong, I don't hate the heat, just the humidity. So, as we reach the high point of the summer, and the sweltering heat makes you feel like you can't breath there is only one thing to do....
BUST OUT THE SPRINKLER!
This afternoon, after everyone had a nap, I turned on the hose and suited up myself and the kids. We braved the immense heat while I sunblocked everyone and then...the sprinkler was attached to the hose. This was always met with delight and anticipation in my childhood, my kids however, greeted the hose like this...
"Mommy, I don't want to get sprayed, I just want to get wet!"
"No Mommy, no spinkla, nooooooo"
H.C. "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa"
I stood in just the zone of the sprinkler so only the drips would get me, I stood where I was in direct line of spray, I stood off to the side, and not one of them joined me. Finally, fearing I was getting funny looks from other adults in the neighborhood, I grabbed H.C. and ran through the sprinkler with her "Whaaaaaaaaa"ing all the way. Soon there after, H.B. comes running through, squawking the whole way. H.A. is still unconvinced that she won't melt if she runs through. I try telling her I'll run through with her. I try telling her if she would just run through once she will enjoy it. Nothing works. So when in doubt, grab child and run through holding her.
I grab H.A. I start running, she's screaming "Stop Mommy, Stop!" we get about two inches into the water.."It's too cold Mommy!". We get all the way through, I set her down. She looks at the sprinkler, then up at me, then says "Let's do it again" EXCUSE ME?!?!?!?!
"I thought you didn't want to get wet?"
"That was before, now I want you to carry me through the water again."
"H.A. hunnie, it is too hot for Mommy to carry you all the time, maybe we can hold hands and run through together?"
"No, I want you to carry me"
"H.A., I am not going to carry you. Now, you can hold my hand and run through with Mommy, or you can go it solo. Pick one!"
"I'll hold your hand"
Off we go! How fun it is! Look what I can do's were flying around and she showed off her sprinkler jumping skills, her stand still and get sprayed skills and of course her dodging the sprinkler skills. After about an hour I say "Let's go inside guys and have some push pops and dry off in the A/C"
"Nooooooooooo Mooooooommmmmmyyyyyyy! I love the sprinkler"
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Proper Attire Part 2
As we enter the warm summer months I feel compelled to remind people of what is appropriate attire and what is not.
First of all let's revisit the shelf bra cami issue. Once again I will remind you that just because it says shelf bra...it DOES NOT mean that you can go bra less. Please read the first Appropriate Attire blog to see the rules on this issue.
Chode Shorts...it wasn't until I was a freshman in college that I learned the word chode. There is a funny story behind it, but all you need to know is if your shorts are wider than they are long...they are not ment for you to wear!!! Some girls can pull this off without looking nasty, but so few of them know when they fall on the wrong side of this rule that I'm outlawing it for everyone!!!
Crop tops are ment for hookers and strippers. This little fashion statement is over, so stop showing your mid section and your belly button ring and be classy NOT trashy and buy a long and lean boyfriend tank. $8 at Target, it's probably cheaper than your crop top anyway...
Bikinis... if you can pinch an inch of fat..not skin and it hurts to pinch it because you're actually pinching your vital organs...but honest to goodness fat, and it rolls over the top of your bikini bottom...DO NOT WEAR IT!!! Buy a tankini..or a one piece. Some people are so ballsy when it comes to their body that sometimes I envy their courage and self esteem to go out in public like that, but then I remember that they look like crap and I'm glad I know how to dress appropriately for my size.
If your shorts are riding up into your crotch, for the LOVE OF GXD.... just pull the damn inseam back down!!! Do not continue to walk around like your wearing jean underwear!!! It makes you look so trashy, you might as well wear your real undies out to walmart because you're not doing any better by leaving your inseam (little as it maybe) riding up your coochie! Plus, if you followed the chode short rule, this wouldn't be happening, at least not on this grand of a scale.
Guys...a wife beater and shorts sagging so low they might as well be pants... you're dating braless cami girl wearing her chode shorts into her crotch aren't you? Stop it!!! It is not sexy in any way. In fact, I want to pants you, just to show you how stupid you look! That or to fashion you a belt out of zip ties (hope you don't have to go #2 before you get home).
Most of all, LESS IS NOT MORE!!! You are actually just wearing less and looking rather trampy.
First of all let's revisit the shelf bra cami issue. Once again I will remind you that just because it says shelf bra...it DOES NOT mean that you can go bra less. Please read the first Appropriate Attire blog to see the rules on this issue.
Chode Shorts...it wasn't until I was a freshman in college that I learned the word chode. There is a funny story behind it, but all you need to know is if your shorts are wider than they are long...they are not ment for you to wear!!! Some girls can pull this off without looking nasty, but so few of them know when they fall on the wrong side of this rule that I'm outlawing it for everyone!!!
Crop tops are ment for hookers and strippers. This little fashion statement is over, so stop showing your mid section and your belly button ring and be classy NOT trashy and buy a long and lean boyfriend tank. $8 at Target, it's probably cheaper than your crop top anyway...
Bikinis... if you can pinch an inch of fat..not skin and it hurts to pinch it because you're actually pinching your vital organs...but honest to goodness fat, and it rolls over the top of your bikini bottom...DO NOT WEAR IT!!! Buy a tankini..or a one piece. Some people are so ballsy when it comes to their body that sometimes I envy their courage and self esteem to go out in public like that, but then I remember that they look like crap and I'm glad I know how to dress appropriately for my size.
If your shorts are riding up into your crotch, for the LOVE OF GXD.... just pull the damn inseam back down!!! Do not continue to walk around like your wearing jean underwear!!! It makes you look so trashy, you might as well wear your real undies out to walmart because you're not doing any better by leaving your inseam (little as it maybe) riding up your coochie! Plus, if you followed the chode short rule, this wouldn't be happening, at least not on this grand of a scale.
Guys...a wife beater and shorts sagging so low they might as well be pants... you're dating braless cami girl wearing her chode shorts into her crotch aren't you? Stop it!!! It is not sexy in any way. In fact, I want to pants you, just to show you how stupid you look! That or to fashion you a belt out of zip ties (hope you don't have to go #2 before you get home).
Most of all, LESS IS NOT MORE!!! You are actually just wearing less and looking rather trampy.
Why I need a babysitter
Today is Saturday. It is supposed to be my day to sleep in, and that didn't happen. After several failed attempts to nap, I give up and ask the Hubs if we could go into Lowe's and buy some spackle and a putty knife so we can fill in some holes left from baby gate hardware and perhaps so we can buy a few of those little paint samples and test out some colors for our living room.
Getting the kids around is always a chore, H.A. always whines, H.B. always runs around the house screaming in a very high, ear shattering decible and H.C. is always, always sitting right where you need to be going. So, after getting everyone around and in the car, we finally get to the store and hear nothing but whinning and asking when we are going to go home and get pizza for dinner. We get our paint samples and we get our putty knife and we order the pizza as we are leaving the store.
More non stop whinning all the way to the pizza place. More non stop whinning while we wait for daddy to pick the pizza up. Daddy returns to the car, only to hear me speaking in hushed "scary mommy" tone -- "if you both don't knock it off right now I am going to leave you outside the pizza place and hope a nice family takes you home" (of course I would never leave my lovies, but the threat is enough to momentarily stop the arguing).
About half way home they go completely silent.... and I have to look because I'm worried one of them has found a way to jedi mind choke the other one. Nope, they are all asleep! All three of them are fast asleep in the back seat. We get home, H.B. goes straight to bed, H.A. comes in and goes back to sleep on the couch and H.C. wakes up and enjoys pizza with the rest of us. However fun this might seem, H.C. is a very curious toddler and is into everything. Those little holes we wanted to fill in will have to wait because she will be into the spackle like nobody's business.
This is why I need a regular, trustworthy babysitter. If I had a sitter I could have them stay at home and leisurely stroll through the paint isle at Lowe's. I could go to a nice restaurant for dinner with the Hubs instead of picking up pizza and coming home to eat. I could go and see a movie in the theaters instead of waiting for everything to come out on blu ray. In short, I am annoyed that I have lived here for two years and still don't have someone I can call to watch my kids, at my house, late into the night like I used to when I was younger. I have to drive the kids to my fabulous mother in law, who watches them for free, but then I feel rushed. Like I need to hurry up and pick them up so I don't keep her up late or infringe upon her generosity. And, she isn't always available because she has many other family requirements on her time and if she does have a weekend night to relax, I don't want to ask her to watch them because she deserves to relax too.
I need a babysitter so I can have a relaxing night out.
Getting the kids around is always a chore, H.A. always whines, H.B. always runs around the house screaming in a very high, ear shattering decible and H.C. is always, always sitting right where you need to be going. So, after getting everyone around and in the car, we finally get to the store and hear nothing but whinning and asking when we are going to go home and get pizza for dinner. We get our paint samples and we get our putty knife and we order the pizza as we are leaving the store.
More non stop whinning all the way to the pizza place. More non stop whinning while we wait for daddy to pick the pizza up. Daddy returns to the car, only to hear me speaking in hushed "scary mommy" tone -- "if you both don't knock it off right now I am going to leave you outside the pizza place and hope a nice family takes you home" (of course I would never leave my lovies, but the threat is enough to momentarily stop the arguing).
About half way home they go completely silent.... and I have to look because I'm worried one of them has found a way to jedi mind choke the other one. Nope, they are all asleep! All three of them are fast asleep in the back seat. We get home, H.B. goes straight to bed, H.A. comes in and goes back to sleep on the couch and H.C. wakes up and enjoys pizza with the rest of us. However fun this might seem, H.C. is a very curious toddler and is into everything. Those little holes we wanted to fill in will have to wait because she will be into the spackle like nobody's business.
This is why I need a regular, trustworthy babysitter. If I had a sitter I could have them stay at home and leisurely stroll through the paint isle at Lowe's. I could go to a nice restaurant for dinner with the Hubs instead of picking up pizza and coming home to eat. I could go and see a movie in the theaters instead of waiting for everything to come out on blu ray. In short, I am annoyed that I have lived here for two years and still don't have someone I can call to watch my kids, at my house, late into the night like I used to when I was younger. I have to drive the kids to my fabulous mother in law, who watches them for free, but then I feel rushed. Like I need to hurry up and pick them up so I don't keep her up late or infringe upon her generosity. And, she isn't always available because she has many other family requirements on her time and if she does have a weekend night to relax, I don't want to ask her to watch them because she deserves to relax too.
I need a babysitter so I can have a relaxing night out.
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