This Moment- The Ivy Look

A Friday ritual. 

A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. 

A simple, special, extraordinary moment.

A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

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Took The Words Right Outta My Mouth

I walked into the kids room and Jane stopped bouncing on the bed. She put on her saddest face, hung her head and in a voice of woe and despair she said:

“Mom. Here is the truth. I got distracted by playing with Clara because I’m in the habit of playing with Clara and then I forgot about my work and now I’m not going to have time to do the fun things.”

No worries, this is just Jane pretending to be sad after hanging her stocking on Christmas Eve.

I nodded sympathetically and gave her a hug, it was the truth.

The Missing Candy

I always knew that being a parent meant getting woken up in the middle of the night.

However, I was completely unprepared for the variety of things that would cause my children to think “Hey look, it’s 3:55 AM, I better go tell mom all about this – right now!”

Last night Jane showed up at the side of our bed at, you guessed it, 3:55 AM.

She was very upset.

This is not unusual. Most children who arrive in the middle of the night in the pitch black are upset. What was unusual was that she was upset about her candy.

That’s right, Jane woke me up just before 4 AM to tell me that her candy was missing.

Apparently, her secret stash of candy (which never should have been in her room in the first place) was missing, it was probably Goose’s fault and what was I going to do about it.

My intelligent response to this was, “Urgh. Murble. Rummppfff.”

Jane was unimpressed so she repeated her tale louder and more insistently which woke me up enough that I replied with an ever more intelligent, “How about you come snuggle with me.”

Which she did as she continued to talk about her candy. Finally after listening to her candy dilemma for six hours, (or maybe six seconds, it’s hard to tell…I’m not at my best at 3:55 AM)  I harshly yelled at her to be quiet because it was the middle of the night and why was she even talking about candy?!?

Then she cried, fell asleep, hogged the bed, messed up the covers and was a giant pain right smack dab in the middle of John and I for the rest of the night.

This morning the first thing she did was run to inspect her candy stash. Admittedly I rolled my eyes when she started in talking about it again.  I thought that this had all been a bad dream, maybe her dream, maybe mine, maybe we both had a bad dream but I didn’t think it was real because…

Who would inspect their secret candy stash at 3:55 AM?!?

But it was true. Her secret candy stash was missing and all she could find was a chewed on sucker stick with the wrapper still clinging to it.  She was crushed.

I told her to hurry up and put her clothes on before she was late for school.

Moral of the Story: Mom’s have no sympathy when breaking the rules backfires on you.

Other Moral of the Story: Never underestimate the power of children to disrupt your sleep. 

 

Mom Ears

I lost my mom ears.

You know, the super sonic hearing ears that let you know every time your child rolls over, coughs or calls out your name.

They broke.

It’s the best thing that’s happened to me in years. Now instead of me jumping out of bed when kids cry or make other random noises in the night, John does. I don’t hear a thing, he has to tell me about it in the morning.

It. Is. Amazing.

I think this is what he felt like all those nights I was up nursing kids and banishing boogey men. (And yes, I nursed those girls, we have YEARS to go before John is even close to catching up with late night waking hours.)

There is one problem though. Since I don’t hear the girls I don’t know they are coming until they show up next to the bed. John can attest from his years on the night shift that when I wake up with someone next to the bed, I scream. For years I woke up to John saying “It’s John! It’s John! It’s John!” until I turned my siren off.

Clara recently got a new blanket, a zebra blanket. It’s soft and fuzzy and has a “hood” on it with a stuffed zebra head she can pull over her own. She loves it. Clara wears it around the house while getting ready for school and sleeps with it every night. It is her new favorite thing.

This was not staged. This is just what she looked like when I went to check on her tonight!

So, when Clara came down to our bed in the middle of the night, I didn’t hear her coming. I didn’t notice her standing next to the bed. In fact I didn’t register her presence at all until a zebra was climbing into my bed and it’s big black zebra nose touched my face.

Facts.

1) I really hate it when things touch my face when I’m sleeping.

2) Zebras are more startling than small children.

3) Screaming in a panicked fashion in your child’s face does not make them feel better.

I lost my mom ears. It’s pretty amazing but I do feel a bit bad for the kids.

 

 

Stools are for Butts.

Stools are for butts he says.
But the counter is full of tiny pumpkins and there is no where else to put the pan.
Stools are for butts he says.
But the counter is full of slime making ingredients and there is no where else to put the tea cup.
Stools are for butts he says.
But there is a broken smoke detector and a broken fan on the counter.
Stools are for butts he says.
But there is a bag of markers and a compass on the counter.
Stools are for butts he says.
But there is a chapstick and a brush on the counter.
Stools are for butts he says.
But there is a towel and spray bottle and a flashlight on the counter.
Stools are for butts he says.
But there is a rock, a paintbrush, and a catalog on the counter.
Stools are for butts he says.
But there is an old horseshoe and a hair clip and a bracelet on the counter.
Ok,”Fine!” she says.
But then help me clean the damn counter!

Let it never be said that I glorified my housekeeping skills for social media.

Our kitchen counter is right inside the front door and becomes the dumping ground for everything as we go in and out. On bad days (all the days) the kids and I use the kitchen stools as extra “counter space.” John, does not approve of this habit. He does however always help clean the counter. We are just all very good a filling it right back up again.