Category Archives: kids

temptation and motivation

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sometimes, your gummy vitamins just aren’t enough to tame the cravings. When I find myself considering self harm because I’m dying for junk food… I tend to give in.

So I got this cute little mini muffin pan and decided to make some chocolate chip something or other cookie cups to tame the inner beast. I ended up making these peanut butter chocolate chip cookie cups that only took about 20 minutes to make.

cookie

YUM. Recipe from averiecooks.com

They totally satisfied 🙂

Of course, I felt like I could give in to temptation today because I’ve been working out more. Partly because the two younger ones have been really into it, and frequently harass me into working out with them.

We all have to put on matching tank tops, or Sammy goes topless to showcase his guns….

And they actually work out with me.

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ah yes, our 10 minute bootie blast……

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the pilates “100”

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king of pilates

probably I would have a more effective workout if I would just focus on sucking my belly button into my spine instead of snapping photos and forgetting to breathe…. I’ll figure it out….

 

 

waging a war

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marbles.jpg

There is a point all kids reach… at least all of MY kids…. when they suddenly realize picking up toys and putting them into the organized bins or containers is NOT as much fun as just tossing them around and walking away.

Seems like the 3 year old has reached that threshold.

I just spent 45 minutes…. 45 MINUTES!…..listening to her groaning, crying, yelling, and attempting to sneak away because I refused to let her do anything until she cleaned up the marbles. There are over 300 I think.

I stayed strong.

It was hell, but they are picked up. She doesn’t like me much right now, but at least she did it. With minimal help from me.

I know she learned nothing from this.

I’m pretty sure she still feels like she won.

I used to be beautiful

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young

Before kids…… courtesy of dreamstime.com

By the end of yesterday I seemed more aware for some reason of the amount of yelling I do each day. I don’t think anyone can hear me if my voice is not at least moderately raised, and each request must be repeated at least 5 times.

I remember attempting to lecture Sammy at the store about how his repetitive behavior and ignoring of my requests to stop were just going to hurt him in the long run…because I certainly wasn’t going to bother getting him the frozen sorbet treats we specifically came for. Thankfully they didn’t have them anyway so I couldn’t give in.

But it doesn’t matter. Every day, EVERY DAY….. they must test me. I’m pretty convinced it’s their only purpose for being here right now. They haven’t found a greater purpose yet, so will continue to poke away at my sanity until they find something better to do.

Sometime last night, getting them ready for bed…. I’m again lecturing about how tired I am of repeating myself, and repeating myself, and repeating myself…..

My eyes might have looked a little bit crazy. I could feel creases forming on my forehead… creases that were not there before…. and they felt like they were just getting really settled and comfortable in my now regular facial expression of crumpled brow and squinty eyes.

“Do you see this!!??”  I asked Sammy, pointing to my poor, worn out forehead. “I didn’t look like this before, 5 years ago I was beautiful!!”

He laughed.

And then Jenna said she refuses to play with me again until I kiss her and say I’m sorry.

And I’m just trying to hold my forehead from caving in all together.

funny grandma

after kids…….. courtesy of blogdesuperheroes.es

 

 

The trouble with a tongue

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tongue1

I find myself, multiple times a day, telling the 3 year old to keep her tongue in her mouth. I fear if we don’t learn to restrain the thing, she may have problems later in life.

It tends to snake out of her mouth and test the air….for temperature, scent??, I’m not sure…. but it doesn’t like to stay where it belongs. How many times can you tell someone to keep their tongue out of their nose…. their nose!!!  This is not something that will be understood in school. I see possibly some popularity from it in preschool, at least with the boys…. but some unwanted attention from those same boys in later years…..

This tongue is amazingly long, it might even help her with balance as it extends out of her mouth while running…… A throwback from prehistoric times?… or is this a new adaptation that we will start to see in future generations? Maybe we just haven’t discovered the extent of it’s purpose yet.

Stay tuned, possible new talent or superpower to be discovered….

tongue2

 

 

 

Girl power

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gp

courtesy of: Pinup Girls https://www.booster.com/girl-power

Yesterday, Jenna had a preschool interview.

This consisted of me bringing her to the school, taking her to the class, and leaving her for 25 minutes while I silently panicked and attempted grown-up conversation with the admissions lady.

First amazing thing…. she didn’t care if I left her in a classroom full of strange kids. Here I am hovering, and she doesn’t even look at me when I ask if I can leave her there for a little bit. She’s busy making fake cupcakes, and gives me a preoccupied “sure” as she concentrates on pink sprinkles.

Back in the office with admissions lady. Now, I know this lady, I’ve had Sammy in this school for 2 years. I should not be this nervous. But, as she sits across from me, smiling gently and so composed looking…. I just start spewing out all sorts of information because I feel the need to talk. To say SOMETHING to fill the silence, and take up time while I wait to hear Jenna’s screams as she realizes she is actually very attached to me.

After I bare my soul for a seemingly endless amount of time, we walk down to the classroom. I look through the glass, wondering if I will see any signs of distress.

Nope. Rolling clay with the teacher.

I watch another girl pick up the rolling pin that Jenna just put down. I hear Jenna yell “hey, that’s mine!”  I watch the girl hand it back without a word.

We walk into the room, and I ask how did she do?

At this age, they don’t focus or really care about the fact that she is almost reading. They do focus on social skills. I am told that She “really knows what she wants”.

This is a nice way of telling me she really bossy.

We are driving home and I ask her how she liked playing with the kids?

“Mommy, I don’t like those 2 little girls.”

What little girls???

“The ones that tried to play with my oven.” They were behind me but I pushed her away with my back. Mommy, I don’t want to play with my oven with those girls.”

So, we need to work on sharing. But I’m kind of excited…. she is the first kid, the FIRST ONE that actually speaks out for herself at this age. I might be hated, SHE might be hated by other parents soon…. but I’m pretty sure she won’t be bullied. Now to make sure she’s not the bully….

5 year old angst

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A bull in a China shop

courtesy of attunity.com

The 5 year old has been sick for…..6 days now. However, he seems to be feeling better and is again showing signs of life.

I came home from work today and sat next to him on the couch after the babysitter left.

He’s not happy.

Seems he keeps wanting to do things that the sitter doesn’t want him to do.

It happened a lot today.

This bothers him.

“Mom, it’s not like I’m trying to be bad. I mean, I know sometimes I am, but I can’t help it….I’m just trying to have fun with my life!”

With this serious look on his face.

I think it’s a reasonable expectation for him to have….

But out of curiosity…. I ask him what kind of things was he doing?

At first he doesn’t remember. Then he wants to show me. Walks over to one of our living room chairs, proceeds to summersault onto the chair, head down, legs up in the air…. and knocks over a picture from the table next to him.

He’s mortified.

I think we may have realized why she was saying no….. maybe.

Breakfast surprise

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breakfast1

It was Saturday morning around 8am, and I heard chairs moving around downstairs in the kitchen, cabinets being opened, bags rustling.

Although it was a lot more commotion that it usually takes for the hubby to make his morning coffee, it just didn’t register to me that anything else might be going on.

I head downstairs with the three year old hanging on my back, and I get stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Husband is being used as a guard, I’m not allowed in the kitchen yet. Ok, I’ll go with it.

Sammy calls out finally, “don’t look!”

He comes and takes my hand, I must keep my eyes closed, and guides me to the kitchen. Being 5, he doesn’t take into account the various walls I might walk in to, but I only shoulder check one because I promise not to cheat and peek.

“Surprise!”

Sammy made us breakfast!

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A feast, of green bean crisps, pretzels, peanuts, pita chips, trail mix….oh, and those cute little cheese sandwich crackers from Trader Joe’s. Pretty much cleaned out the snacks…. We all got a heaping plate, and even a nice big glass (Oh geez, REAL glass!) of deliciously gritty iced tea, made with love and LOTS of powdered mix.

All of our places were set, and he waited indulgently for us to sit. Of course it was the most amazing breakfast ever!!

Me, Sammy, Jenna, and the hubby got the same thing. For some reason though, his big brother Jake got the supreme version full of whole granola bars, some fudge dipped, and LOTS of trail mix.

breakfast3

breakfast of champions

 

Of course, we didn’t want to disappoint him, so I munched on that “breakfast” all day, and tossed what I could when he wasn’t looking. I did realize what a good amount of crap food we have….. and also how much I love pita chips….but mostly how much I love that little guy.

 

perfect kid vs gestapo mom

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paper

Last night the husband noticed some wallpaper had mysteriously gone missing on one of the bathroom walls, the one the kids take a bath in before bed each night.

Ironically (you’ll see why later), he blamed Sammy initially… although I was leaning towards Jenna. This morning, as I rushed through the routine of feeding the kids, and packing up for his school and my work, I questioned Sammy as the husband made his coffee and listened.

“Did you peel off the wallpaper in daddy’s bathroom?”

Big eyed silence is what I get in return.

Then a very slow head shake, and a small voiced “No, Jenna did it.”

“Really??? You saw Jenna do it and you didn’t tell me?”

Now, I can already tell he’s lying. If he saw his sister doing ANYTHING he could tell on her for, he would be yelling for me in a heartbeat. And the big eyes… the big scared eyes of a little lying boy…..

I give him a few chances to come clean, he doesn’t. I pull out the God card, “you know God sees everything we do, right? You wouldn’t want to let Him see you lying, right?” And all the other stuff about how telling a lie is worse than the actual bad thing he might have done and does he want to just think again about what he’s saying??

Daddy steps in, as thought I’m the gestapo.

“No! He said he didn’t do it, he’s a good boy!” Lots of hugging from daddy, me rolling my eyes.

So poor Jenna is blamed, even though I know she didn’t do it. And there is no punishment, but still, it’s not sitting well with me. I need him to learn and understand that telling the lie, and throwing his sister under the bus isn’t how to handle getting caught. Even though, to daddy, his guilty appearance means absolutely nothing. Because he is perfect. Just like when he hits his little sister, and she screams at him, it’s HER fault for having a big mouth… not his for hitting her. This is what we deal with over here.

We are in the car for about 5 minutes when he admits he did it. I tell him we need to call Daddy and let him know so he doesn’t bother Jenna about it. As soon as I get the husband on the phone, Sammy starts to sob, and I get yelled at for terrorizing him, and he has the nerve to tell me that he probably only admitted it to stop being tortured by me. The guy still doesn’t believe he did it!

Now, he’s guilty for thinking Sammy’s perfect all the time… and I’m guilty for thinking he’s perfect sometimes but at least these moments bring me back to reality.

Although I fumed this morning, silently…. I decided to forgive him this afternoon and called to see how his day was going. He still likened me to a war criminal with cruel interrogation tactics. I can do nothing but tell him he is lucky to have me, or our perfect son would grow up thinking he truly can do no wrong.

I can deal with my son being a normal 5 year old. I can deal with my husbands rose-colored glasses. I will be the gestapo mom if I need to be, and perfectly thankful for the opportunity to do it.