Insurmountable

Oct6

Recently talking to my cousin we had a conversation about how small tasks while sleeping become insurmountable. Things like blankets falling on the floor have us huddled under pillows because it is clearly an insurmountable task to reach down and find the blanket.

Last night was our first night visiting Tyler in his new place. Tyler very nicely offered me and Ivy the bedroom and only bed in his barely furnished house so that he didn’t wake us all up early in the morning when he left for work.

Last night I found myself sleeping on a twin bed between Ivy and Piper.

In case you were curious that is approximately 300 pounds of living things sleeping in a twin bed – not a good idea.

In the middle of the night I knew it was not a good idea.

In the middle of the night getting either dog or kid out of the bed – totally insurmountable.

Tonight I gave Tyler his room back!

When things started to get really crazy was after a minor bed wetting incident. And I use the term minor in regards to urine amount only, everything else about it was a calamity. The chaos was over and I was trying to fall back asleep when Ivy started kicking at Piper because she didn’t have room for her legs,while trying to steal my pillow and Piper who had gotten off the bed when she got kicked at was staring at me waiting to get let back on. Instead of doing something to solve the problem for the night, any number of somethings that make perfect sense while I’m not sleeping, like moving Ivy to the floor and locking Piper out of the room, all I could think about was falling back asleep quickly. So I turned myself into a human wall between the fighting kid and dog and went back to sleep. I’m pretty sure I nodded off just after hearing Ivy say “I can’t fall asleep” Which was a good thing or I would have mentioned that it was likely because she had yet to stop talking or wiggling and I’m certain I would have had trouble phrasing that constructively. Instead I fell asleep and spent an overly cozy night as the filling in an Ivy-Piper sandwich.

Someday I’ll figure out how to get that blanket back off the floor,and if I can’t figure that out defending my space in the bed will surely continue to be an insurmountable task in the middle of the night.

That’s why tonight Ivy is sleeping on the floor by her uncle Tyler and Piper and I have moved to the living room floor.

We are on a queen sized mattress.

We are not concerned with early morning noise.

The only thing that is cutting into our sleep is late night blogging!

Go Fish

Oct5

The intricacies of playing Go Fish with a three year old will wear out even the most patient of Dads.

Tomato Trouble

Oct4

It’s been awhile!

Right as we all started recovering from our individual maladies our internet connection came down with some illness of its own. So today the girls and I loaded up in a truck and drove four hours north just so I could finally write another post. Admittedly there was more to it than that, but one thing at time, I’ve lots of catching up to do!

Now, about that tomato trouble…

By now my garden trouble has probably solved itself, the heavy frost we had before I left town most likely took care of any tomatoes that were still around. But just a few days ago I had discovered something was nibbling on my tomatoes. Even my green tomatoes were under attack Check out this one, attacked while still hanging on the vine!

My mystery was short lived, just on the other side of the tomato plants I found the culprit.

Have I ever mentioned that Clara LOVES tomatoes?

Sick

Sep30

Remember how on Mothers Day I wanted to be the Dad?

I want to be the Dad again.

Everyone in our house is sick, we range from head colds and teething to flu like symptoms.

The Mom’s job in our house is to take care of the (now grumpy) kids.

The Dad’s job is to go to work.

Mom can do (read, has to do) her job unless she is at deaths door.

Dad works with hazardous chemicals and the rest of us prefer it if he not do that when he is not on his A game for fear there will be no Dad.

In order for Dad to get back to his job he must recover quickly.

Mom is still doing her job.

Dad gets lots of naps.

Mom does not.

I want to be the Dad again!

Chatter Box

Sep26

This was this mornings sunrise:

At the time I took that picture Ivy had already been talking for an hour.

Then we drove to Cabela’s in Indiana, and she talked the whole way…

We met Uncle Jim who gave Storm’s progress so far a thumbs up and John and I new instructions on her care, and Ivy kept talking…

We headed into Cabela’s where it’s impossible to lose her becuase even when she is a bit of a brat and hides, she can’t resist talking, so her hiding place only lasts for about 30 seconds…

We got back in the car for the three hour drive home, and she kept talking…

Clara took her third nap of the day, and Ivy kept talking…

Once we got home we repacked and headed out to enjoy the rest of the day, running for John and I and swing sets and slides for the girls, Ivy kept talking, but this time to other kids… I love other kids!

We drove back home, and Ivy kept talking…

I tried to run away from the chatter by mowing the lawn, (desperate times, call for desperate measures!) Ivy followed me.

Just as I was starting up the lawn mower she and her half eaten apple (thank you Uncle Jim and Callie) climbed up in my lap. So I stuffed my ear muffs on her head and off we went mowing the lawn, and Ivy kept talking. Fortunately for my sanity it was a brief attempt at talking, between the ear protection and the noise of the lawn mower she gave up and just sat on my lap munching away on her apple. Pretty soon I felt her start to slide off my lap, and I realized that when she stopped talking for the first time all day, she had finally let herself fall asleep. There Ivy was, sound asleep in my lap, ear muffs on, apple core clutched tight in one fist that was curled up under her chin like it was her favorite stuffed animal.

Alien Trouble

Sep25

I had trouble, Clara was screaming, and screaming, and screaming. My friend was due to show up any minute to babysit, John would be home shortly and we were all set for our belated anniversary date. As the screaming continued with no signs of stopping I started worrying that not only was my evening was in jeopardy but that something was seriously wrong with my kid. As I tried to figure out what the cause of the screaming was I debated with myself:

Do I stay home?

Do we delay leaving until she’s in bed?

Will I feel horribly guilty for leaving a completely upset girl with my friend?

If I leave will I just be grateful that I can say goodbye and leave all the noise behind?

If I am grateful does that make me a horrible mother?

Did I accidentally feed her dairy products?

Does she have a fever?

Am I actually stabbing hot needles into her and I don’t know it?

Have the ten million falls she has taken in the last week as she started walking damaged her brain and now all she can do is scream?

Then during a good scream I looked in her mouth, there I discovered two gigantic aliens posing as molars pushing through Clara’s gums. They must have been aliens, teeth that large, in such a little mouth that would be pure craziness. Unfortunately my alien banishing tactics are nonexistent so I thought I’d treat it like teething.

Teething I know how to deal with (thank you Ivy for your super early, super cranky teething). We froze some teethers (I know frostbite, whatever, fridge temp is not cold enough), dug out some aquarium tubing to chew on, pulled out the ibuprofen,and made a call to John to bring home some teething gel. A half hour later drugs had kicked in, Clara was happily walking around the house with her chunks of tubing and John and I left guilt free on our date.

After a bit of a rough start at sporting clays when John’s gun jammed on his first shot things went great. John was unable to fix his gun, which forced him to use my gun, which effectively handicapped him enough that I almost beat him. We finished up our date night with dinner out and a trip to the grocery store (wild and crazy I know) and came home to two sleeping girls and one friend that still seems to like both us and our kids.

Thank goodness it was only alien trouble!

Seven Years

Sep20

Today was our seventh anniversary and my photos of photos in the dark do no justice to the great photos my Aunt Helen took that day.

Now seven years have flown by and the girls are among the biggest of the many changes since that day. Yet tonight over dinner (a completely scrumptious grilled venison tenderloin) as we reflected over the years we were most awed by how Johns grilling skills have grown. For our first anniversary he also grilled us dinner. While I don’t remember if I ate the resulting chunk of boot leather, the meal was memorable! Thankfully I hadn’t married him for his grilling skills and he hadn’t married me for my cleaning skills so we are still smiling together today! Of course now John is the best grill master I know but I still don’t clean the bathroom, looks like I got the good end of this deal!

Today

Sep17

Today Ivy, Clara and I spent 4 1/2 hours in the car.

Today I heard somone say “MOM” from the backseat for the 5 millionth time.

Today I said “What Ivy?” for the 6 trillionth time.

Today I had no response.

Today I looked in the back seat and saw Ivy was sleeping.

Today Clara said “MOM” 37 times.

Today I think Clara was imitating her older sister…but it’s got me worried about tommorow!

“Choices”

Sep15

After hearing glowing reviews from friends who offered their kids “choices” I thought I’d try it with Ivy. Not to be mistaken for choices, “choices” are more like this:

You can keep eating or you can leave the room.

You can help me or you can play by yourself.

You can pick up your room now or you can go straight to bed.

I phrase the “choices” above in a friendlier manner and try to involve the word choose, amazingly Ivy thinks she’s getting to decide what happens and responds well to it. Hopefully it will take her awhile to figure out that it is just her manipulative mother calling the shots! Of course there are days when she makes poor choices, I try to go with it and cross my fingers that she’s learning something.

Today was one of those days. Today the choice was: we could go for a walk or get ready for our afternoon rest.

Ivy’s choice: Walk

Ivy being the helpful girl that she often is went and got both of us shoes for our walk. She returned with my flip flops and Johns flip flops. Now I can go anywhere in flip flops, and Ivy has been a good understudy but Ivy in her Dads flip flops is a different story. So it was “you can wear those but I will not carry you, or you can go get your own shoes”

Ivy’s choice: Wear Dad’s flip flops

So off we walked, and it all went swimmingly, if very slowly,there is not much speed to be had in over sized flip flops. Then we left the pasture and there were *gasp* BURRS and PRICKERS!!! Do you want to keep going though the burrs and prickles to the corn field or head home for a rest?

Ivy’s choice: Keep going

Keep going, and crying and screaming.

“MOM, there are prickles!”

“Owie!… Owie!… Owie!”

“MOM THERE ARE BURRS ON MY DRESS!!!”

Clearly a major problem was that I had not realized her dress was actually an extension of her body and therefore burrs caught in her dress would be causing Ivy pain. This was true even if the burrs were wrapped and tangled in the dress so as not to be touching her skin in anyway. Sadly this is not a new phenomenon, her pink blanket has the same attribute. In the car if Piper sits on the end of the blanket it’s all “OWIE! MOM, PIPER IS SITTING ON MY PINK BLANKET! OWIE!” so I guess I shouldn’t have been too surprised, but it was a bit disappointing. A pink blanket that feels pain is inconvenient, a dress that has the same problem is downright ridiculous!

Ivy then decided the best thing would be to take off her dress.

“MOM THE SKEETOS ARE GETTIN’ ME!”

Soon after that she got burrs in her hair, and thought flailing around her head and messing up her hair would somehow help. Then just after we reached the corn field (the burr and pricker free cornfield) she decided it was time to turn around and go back home. All the way back through the 12 yards or so of burrs and prickers I heard pathetic comments like:

“MOM I HAVE BURRS IN MY UNDERWEAR!”

“OWIE!”

“MOM THE SKEETOS ARE GETTIN’ MY BUTT!”

Once we hit the relative “safety” of the pasture things improved until we got home.

Choice: Sleep with burrs in your hair or let me comb them out.

Ivy’s choice: comb them out

“OWIE” — – “Ivy I haven’t touched it yet.” —“BUT IT”S GONNA HURT!” — “Should we leave them in?” —” NO GET THEM OUT!”

Ten minutes later she was deburred, mostly naked, full of mosquito bites, tears, snot and on her way to bed.

While it seems that I may have spent an hour torturing my kid I was hoping she learned something from it, but I wasn’t convinced. When Ivy got up from her nap she came smiling down the stairs in new clothes and said:

“Look Mom I’m wearin’ my long sleeve clothes to keep the prickers off me!”

Then a few minutes later she showed up with some barrettes and said:

“Mom, you put these in my hair so I don’t get burrs in my hair?”

While I’m not counting it a true success until we head out on another walk it looks like perhaps something sank in!

The one thing I will say for Ivy is through all of her crying about burrs and prickly things, she never once asked me to carry her, even when her flip flops were falling off. I like to think this was because she knew that was the choice she made at the beginning of our walk. Unfortunately it also could have been because she was too busy saying “Owie!” Just picture a little girl with pink Care Bear underwear full of burrs walking determinedly, if very vocally though the woods, now tell me that doesn’t bring a smile to your face. I’ll keep giving Ivy “choices” and while I watch her figure things out for herself I’ll try to keep my giggling under control!