Reporting the Truth

Two days ago Joseph received his very first report card of his educational career. I didn't expect to feel so overwhelmed by it, but I was. It was like a realization hit me square in the face that I am the parent... the adult. I had to take some serious time to review the report with Big Daddy and we needed to decide as a parental team what items we needed to discuss with Joseph. Was this something I had signed up for??? Why do I all of a sudden have this great responsibility? I looked in my parent hand-book and there is NOT a section on how to deal with this.

I guess for the first time in my life I can be glad that I was not the one getting the report card talk.

As for our report card talk, there wasn't a whole lot to it. In Kindergarten what is there to discuss? Not much. I guess it helps that Joseph is very mild mannered and willing to try just about anything and has a thirst for knowledge and school. All in all, his very first report card could not have made Big Daddy and I prouder.

However, in Kindergarten the students have "writers workshop" that they have to work in daily. It is a tool to help the kids learn to sound out words, write things down and draw pictures. Big Daddy and I looked through the writers workshop's that were sent home with the report card to get a better understand of how far Joseph's fine motor skills have come over the last few months. Both of us were impressed at the drawings and writing. It was especially touching that on one of the most recent pages Joseph chose to write for that day "I love Mom & Dad" (or a close version). It was nice to know that he thinks of us while he is at school. That day he also included a picture of Big Daddy and I.


I assume you can see who is who in the picture... as my kindergartner drew me some BOOBS!!! Tomorrow morning when Big Daddy and I walk into our parent/teacher/student interview I will feel sheepish knowing she's seen my boobs.

We had a chat about it, and Joseph now will tell anyone who asks about the drawing that it is the baby in my belly. But to be honest, its obvious I have boobs.

I guess the truth hurts when he thinks my boobs and my belly are in the same location.

Joys of Motherhood

When you become a parent there are many things you anticipate and get your mindset ready for. Especially with infants and the obscene amount of poop, spit, snot and barf they can (and will) produce. However, I quickly learnt that there are many things that you never in your right mind expected yourself to say, do, or have done TO you. I also never anticipated how these things increase as you add more children to the mix. My guess is that it turns into gang mentality and they egg one another on.

I think the one thing I never imagined myself saying, and probably more than once is "don't stick that in your brothers butt!" Sounds terrible doesn't it. Almost as bad as "Don't put THAT in your brothers mouth!". I also have had a few rounds of conversation on what is appropriate to stick in people's noses... while they are asleep.

I also never thought I would have to clean up so much poop off of my living room carpet as I have. I guess in my prenatal state I always envisioned poop would be contained to diapers and potty's. No one warns you that there comes an age when these babies are old enough to remove the diaper themselves when you aren't looking, only to have your five year old come to you and say "Mom, I have bad news"

But it is a really good thing I have a half decent carpet cleaning machine because I also never thought I would let my kids eat so much off of the floor. I haven't let them because I think its ok. I have just resigned myself to the fact somedays that one (or two) treats or apple slices off the floor is better than the tantrum that I know full well would occur if I said no. So, I turn a blind eye.

I guess I never anticipated how barbaric and tribal life as a mother be. For crying out loud, Big Daddy and I are civilized humans. We use toilet facilities, we eat off tableware and use cutlery. We have opposable thumbs. But, for some simple reason after birth your life so quickly turns primative and you will growl at anyone who comes near your baby cub.

Although, my life has turned somewhat primative I must say that I still appreciate a clean shirt. I can't tell you how many times I have dressed for work in clean attire to head out the door with a handful of oatmeal smeared down my pant leg. When it goes unnoticed for a few hours is nothing short of embarassing.

Today's greatest hit, the sticky substance that I obviously stepped in this morning while preparing my lunch in the kitchen. It is stuck to the bottom of my sock and now adhere's my sock to the inside of my shoe. My guess is that the "substance" is a booger, or something quite similar in size and shape. At least that is what I can tell from the feel of it. I am afraid to look, the sight of it might make me vomit. It is rather annoying and sticks and unsticks while walking... however, it reminds me of my kids. So to all the mothers-to-be out there... expect yourself to one day be at work thinking about your kids because of an odd foot booger. It's not quite the same as a photo sitting on your desk and you will never believe how it can make your day just that little bit better.

A little sucking up never hurt anyone?

Is there an age when a cute toddler learns the art of sucking up? Or is it just naturally built in. Regardless, it can turn a situation in a Mother's heart from sour to sweet in a matter of milliseconds. That's for damn sure.

The other night Trenter had a spazz out. He woke up and freaked. I was in there with him trying to soothe him and calm him. I asked him if anything hurt? Did he need a drink? What his tummy sore? Did he want to crawl into my bed? I sang to him, rubbed his back and massaged him. But still, the response was sheer screaming and crying with a side dish of loud requests for Big Daddy. I was simply trying to help out Big Daddy as he had some homework to attend to. But, alas I finally gave up at being swung at aggressively and let him go and find Daddy.

I guess what stings the most is that it is supposed to be ingrained in your children to always want Mommy... And as much as at times we don't want to be wanted so much, it hurts so much worse when you aren't wanted.

Being pregnant and hormonal doesn't make that wound any easier to cope with.

So, the next morning I went about my way and was still a little hurt from Trent's unwantedness of my attempts to make him better. But on my way out the door he decides to touch the depths of my heart. He says to me "Bye Mommy! I lub you" *sigh* how can you have an ill feeling after that! Not only does hearing someone tell you they love you make your day. But to top it off, it was the very first time I have ever heard Trent say it without it being in response to someone saying it to him.

I have to wonder if he knew I was sad because of our happenings that night? At two and half is he smart enough to know it was time for a little suck up? Was that the ace he had in his pocket just waiting for the right time to play it? Or, was it just a simple twist of fate.

Whatever it was, it was a moment I won't ever be able to forget. It will forever be embedded in my memory. I guess the thing to keep in mind is that as frustrated as him and I were at one another that night it, that alone is something I won't remember in the long run. The "I love you's" on the other hand, will last a lifetime.

Mama had a baby and her head popped off

My head that is... ok well, it didn't actually pop off. Felt pretty darn close though.

This past week our home has been plagued with a superb case of influenza. Last weekend Big Daddy complained that he was sick. We'll, he didn't really look all that sick and I thought he was just trying to justify to me his sleeping until two o'clock in the afternoon. No justification necessary. So I called him a faker. As the illness progressed and got worse I realized he was far from faking when he actually took some medication, refused a meal, and got into bed fully clothed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt and inquired where the hot water bottle was.

I felt a little bad for Trent since while I was at work I knew that Big Daddy and Joseph, who had also contracted said illness, were each laying on a couch with not much energy to move. I called Big Daddy's Mother for some re-enforcement, or at least someone sane for Trent to converse with. Big Daddy phoned me at work to thank me for taking the wild one off his hands I sheepishly chucked out there a "hey, no problem. And, uhh sorry for calling you a faker". I was hoping that I had saved myself.

By Wednesday evening Joseph and Todd were well on the mend and I was now done work for the week. But karma's a bitch. Low and behold it is now my turn to have more snot than a human should have any clue what to do with, a headache that makes you feel like a semi is rolling over your brain and everything aches and is cold, then hot, then cold, then hot. So there I am laying on the couch complaining of all my woes and Big Daddy comes and brings me a box of Kleenex, some tylenol and a glass of water. He sits on the coffee table where I can see him and at that moment I fully expected (and deserved really) a "get up faker!" But no, I got a loving rub on the arm and a sincere "how are you feeling" Pregnancy does have it's perks...Being able to take an advil isn't one of them. Did you know that even when you call Dr. Dawne and beg, she still says "no". I guess ibuprofen isn't good for the baby. I really thought my head popping off wouldn't be either.

Well with a lot of couch time, tylenol, water and halls. We all seem to be on the mend. While I am roaming the house with an antibacterial cleaner attempting to sanitize every communible surface Big Daddy is on the phone booking our family for flu shots next year.

I have to wonder though if I would have kept my "faker" comment to myself would I have gotten so sick. I think I got what I deserved...Sadly.