Where the Wild Things Are: October 2008

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

A Little Love

This fabulous Daddy deserves a little recognition. Last week I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. I felt behind on kindergarten stuff, church stuff, and just couldn't get on top of the house work/laundry. This week has been better and brought a few unexpected pick-me-ups that though they sound small, did wonders to brighten my day.

When Chris got home Monday and found me lamenting the fact that with one week left to go in the month, I have NO money left, he pulled out his wallet and with a stately air, handed over all the cash it contained! Oh how I love cash (because I never seem to have any). Ha ha, thank you honey! Now, reader, don't be confused into thinking wads of cash bring me complete pleasure (well, they do, a little bit) but in quite a non-monetary sort of way it was very sweet and unexpected.
Before leaving this morning the hubby quickly ran to pick up his dry-cleaning. Unbenonst to me he took my car, which I later discovered, upon using it myself and finding it newly filled with gas! Thanks again sweetie! (Since I had blown my gas money on new winter pants for Matthew--I know, priorities.)
Also after he left this morning, I went upstairs into our room to tidy up and found he had emptied the bathroom garbage cans--thank you AGAIN honey! This might sound small but just by the way the chips fall is not something he usually takes care of so it was another sweet surprise. (Because, let's face it, the soggy diapes were starting to spill over onto the floor.)
And lastly, this happened a couple months ago but has to be ranked in the top sweetest things ever done for me. We were traveling home from Utah and had finally situated ourselves on the plane with Chris and the boys in one row and me and Joseph on the isle of another. We had just finished several weeks of vacation (which you understand, left us exhausted), had managed to get our three children, three HUGE car seats, double stroller, and baggage through the airport and onto the plane (also exhausting), and were currently trying to get the kids to settle down and stop annoying the old people in front of us. As the flight attendant went down the isle passing out headphones I didn't even bother to make eye contact. There was no hope me trying to wrestle a toddler on my lap, keep two other boys from driving their father batty, and trouble with cords going from my ears past the toddler on my lap and into the armrest. Chris tried to get my attention about the movie but I smiled weakly and waved it off, too busy catching falling fruit snacks. About a minute later he handed me some head phones (really honey, I can't watch a movie) took Joseph from my lap (you're taking Joseph?!) refused my offer to trade him a baby for a 3 year old (seriously?!) and per his instructions I sat back, had a soda, and calmly watched Leatherheads. The most pleasant movie experience ever. And I know when we got on that plane he was just as tired, just as exhausted, and just as in need of a "2-hour-quiet-time" as me.

So, Thank You Honey. Thanks for watching out for me. Thanks for watching out for my budget, my bathrooms, and my peace of mind. I love you!

Emmy

Monday, October 20, 2008

Tidy-Up Mondays

Oh, how I love thee, Clean Kitchen. I love thy spotless counters, thy swept floors, thy clean table. I love thy bare island, free from knick knacks, stray mail, groceries, fridge remnants, and school notices. Thy tidy coin cup, thy cutting board purged of food stains. Yes, this is a happy place to be in.

But it took a little doing, it was a busy weekend, several family activities, several church activities, and lots of visitors. By Sunday evening I was tired. So I didn't freshen you up until this morning, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to sit in your own filth overnight. But it was worth it, wasn't it, dear Kitchen. We have spent some quality time together this morning. Just you and me. And the sponge. And the paper towels. And the clorox. But now we are pristine and clean.

And so I will leave you to a little rest before the lunch rush. Have a good time and I will turn around now and go find out what the little ones are up to.

Oh crap. I forgot about YOU. You, Rest-Of-The-House. (Rats. This is what the little ones have been up to.) Oh, how I DO NOT love thee, Very Untidy Family Room. Let me count the ways:

Notice the gray p.j.s on the floor (and two other sets unseen on the couch). Evidence of a rushed change into clothes grabbed randomly out of the dryer in the hopes of still making the bus (we did, thank you).
The tennis shoe next to those p.j.s. Evidence of the children who did not get on the bus and returned home forgetting that there is a very nice shoe tray right inside the back door waiting to except those little sneakers.
Some long blue magnet thing that belongs to a set of long magnets things. A set that will soon be lost forever if that blue one doesn't quickly march over to collect it's buddies before they stray underneath the couch, down the vents, and parts beyond.
The two blue sweatshirts on the floor, from afore mentioned children who also forgot there are some very attractive hooks right inside that back door as well.
There is that DVD in front on the TV from Joseph's unwelcomed foray into the movie cabinet.
The baby toy basket, empty but standing guard over its one-time inhabitants.
There's that green box of wipes on the fireplace, and if you look close, yes, there it is, a dirty diap--soaking up the sun in hopes of hastening it's odorific takeover of my home.
Oh, and there, next to the top left leg of the coffee table is yet another, balled up soggy diap. We might as well get the baskets out and have ourselves a good 'ol easter egg hunt.
Two blue pairs of sweats by the wipes, quickly left there last night in the hopes of running around the house nekkid several times before being forced into pajamas. Pajamas that would later join those sweats. Join those sweats in a room that is neither for washing clothes nor for storing clothes. A room that has no business at all holding clothes and yet, seems to get stuck with that job all the time.
And we might as well make it ten with the messy magazine pile. "The garbage is coming for you lot," that's all I can say. "Psst, except you, J.Crew Catalog, you can stay a while longer. Just don't tell the others."

So there you have it. My Euphoria . . .

and my defeat . . .

Oh, well. No time for the defeat now. Have to go take a shower. So we'll make this easy. Should you chance to come to my house today. Come right in, I will welcome you. But you are only allowed to face this direction.

And whatever you do, just don't run around.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

NO!

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

William

Happy Birthday my beautiful boy.

You are four, have been since yesterday, and it's hard for me to believe you don't look like this anymore. When you were born you were a nice looking baby and I of course thought you were cute, receding hair line and all, but then you turned into the most angelic thing I had ever seen.

You were a mellow baby but before too long your personality began to show and now you are my most passionate boy. You invest yourself 100% in whatever you are doing. You love to wrestle, chase, and rough-house. Your love pats soon turned into wallops and your "greeting hug" turned into a full speed collision. More than once you have almost knocked down unsuspecting adults with an attack from behind and always seem utterly bewildered when I reprimand you for it, as if you can't imagine someone wouldn't want to be welcomed by the surprise impact of a sprinting child. But that same physicality which takes it's toll on your brothers and the neighbor children, also brings you into my lap anytime we are close. When you are hurt, or sad, or in trouble, you only want to be held. When we read together you love to snuggle. When we play you frequently come over to lay your head on my shoulder for a few seconds before running off again, you touch my face while we talk, you nuzzle into my neck when we watch a show. You are the easiest with your I love you's and the most generous with hugs. So, my apologies to the neighbor children, and to your brothers, and to those unsuspecting adults, but I wouldn't change this about you. I will take your snuggles, your kisses and hugs, and your I love you's as long as you will give them, and try to be grateful for the thumps and bumps that go with them. I'm hoping eventually the hugs win out over the bruises.

In any case, happy birthday to you little boy. I love you.