Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Good Gourd!

We carved pumpkins last night.  Autumn wanted a big one.  Petal wanted a small one.  And frankly, I didn't want to do it at all.  Carving pumpkins is one of the Halloween traditions I hate.  What a mess!  Not to mention small children with sharp knives.  Who thought of this? 

But we got it done.  We laid out plastic bags on the floor and great big bowls for pumpkin guts and we got down to work.  I helped Petal with hers.  Or she mainly just held by hand as I carved everything out. 

I was proud of her this year though...she reached in and pulled out the guts by hand.  It looks like even my little Diva can get her hands dirty once in awhile. 

On the other hand, Autumn has never shyed away from getting messy and dirty.  Her hands dripped ooey orange pumpkin goo within five minutes of cracking open that pumpkin.  Steven teamed up with Autumn to help her with her pumpkin. 

Petal's Pumpkin
(do you notice that "scar" on the side of his face...that was my contribution.  I'm no pumpkin artist, that's for sure.)

Tonight we are roasting pumpkin seeds.  I've never done it before, but I consulted my good friend, Pinterest, and we have made a plan.  The seeds are sitting on a cookie sheet drying out for a good roasting tonight. 

The girls had a good time.  Tomorrow is Halloween and then the sugar overload will finally be done....at least until Thanksgiving. 

I have just resigned myself to the fact that for the next two months I will be broke and exhausted. 

My Wish Flower for today?  I wish that I would have discovered I had pumpkin seeds stuck to my butt before I heard my family snickering from behind me as I walked away.

Monday, October 29, 2012


The hubs and I celebrated our 11th Anniversary on Saturday.  It still boggles my mind that we have made it 11 years.  I can't tell you how many times I wondered if we would make it 11 more minutes.  It's so crazy to think we now have a 9 year old and an almost 5 year old.  When did that happen?  Where did my little babies go?

(Pause for a moment of reminiscing.)

I started the day with a run to the grocery store and a mountain of dirty laundry.  Anniversaries are no longer the romantic all day event they were when we first started out. 

However, we did sneak away for a romantic dinner.  The girls had been invited to a Halloween party at my cousin's house.  My mom kindly offered to take them for me so Steven and I could sneak some time alone. 

Steven surprised me with a gift card to Dillard's for a new watch.  I've been wearing a fancy-schmancy watch from Avon for about 5 years now.  It's painted white, but by now it's just a nasty banged up tarnished silver.  To say it's less that professional looking is an understatement.  I'm very excited for a new watch.  I would prefer one that looks like I'm a grown woman and not one that looks like I got it at the dollar store. 

I surprised Steven with a new package of underwear.  I know, I know...I'm such a romantic.  Okay, he got a few other things too but I'm pretty sure it was the underwear that was the clincher.  And perhaps they were more for my benefit than anything.  But I have to fold that damn underwear every week and I needed to look at underwear in much better shape.  Ugh!  But I digress...

The dinner was beautiful. I put on heels and a velvet skirt.  Steven put on a shirt and tie.  We looked smoking good.  I had a gorgeous bottle of wine and seared tuna.  Yum.  Steven had a gorgeous sip of my wine (he's such a teetotaler) and a pork loin.  We were in decadence heaven.  The restaurant was up in the mountains with the snow lightly falling.  It was postcard beautiful.  Almost romance novel beautiful. 

It was fun to get away without the kids.  It's also nice to go to a restaurant that doesn't have mac & cheese on the menu. 

It's hard to pull me away from the kids, but I'm always glad when Steven gets me to do that once in awhile.  It never hurts to reaffirm to myself why I married this man in the first place.  And it's a good reminder that there is more to my life than homework, Barbie Dolls, and bows.

Happy Anniversary, hon.  Love you!

Sidenote of awkwardness to the weekend: 

Steven had roses delivered Saturday morning.   As I lay in a nice hot bath Steven and both girls walked in carrying my roses.  I love roses, I love getting roses...I love the fact that he cared enough to buy me roses.  I DO NOT love getting roses given to me naked in a tub of water with mascara running down my face. 

Wish Flower today?  I wish that no one ever, ever gives me roses while I'm naked again. 

Friday, October 26, 2012

The madness of motherhood

Last night was complete and utter exhaustion.

Run down of the day:

6:00 a.m.  Wake up...pulling my body slowly from the warm bed and then limping like a geriatric to the bathroom for a quick shower.  I swear the creeks and the cracks and the groans from my body echo through the house.  Ugh.  Regardless...

6:45 a.m.  After showing, drying and styling hair, slapping on makeup that I pretend takes 10 years of my face, but really doesn't....I head back to the bedroom.  No longer creaking and cracking...now I'm doing my olympic fast walking/talking routine trying to get everyone going.  I flip on the light and blind my husband, and often the 4-year old that has snuck in our bed again, and inform everyone it is time to get up.  My husband and kids moan and groan...I am heartless to it.  We must get up!

7:30 a.m.  Fought with the 4-year old to get dressed.  Fought with the 9-year old to move faster.  Fought with the husband to get out of the bathroom and get moving.  And fought with my body to squeeze into nylons and heels.  Now no one is in a good mood.

7:45-7:50 a.m.  After pouring cereal into bowls, packing lunch for Autumn (the 9 year old) to take to school, quickly putting my signature on last nights homework and throwing whatever leftovers I can find in a bag for my lunch....I head to work.  Whew!  I leave behind little girls with kiss marks on their cheeks, reminders to remember coats and backpacks...and a husband to find their shoes and make sure they brush their teeth. 

8:00 a.m.  When I am supposed to arrive at work.

8:15 a.m.  When I actually get there.

3:00 p.m.  Due to a meeting that had been scheduled mid day I finally take a lunch.  Getting into my car I get a call from Autumn, in tears, because some of her friends from school walked home without her.  Major crisis.  Part of me just wants to tell her to deal and get over it, but the motherly part of me (which thankfully is usually stronger than the snarky part of me) feels bad.  So, abandoning my plans to read my book and decompress, I drive to her school to pick her up and take her home. 

3:15 p.m.  Arrive at Autumn's school.  I pull out a move out of the Indy 500 races and dodge between a minivan and convertible (which is pretentious enough in the summer, but this is fall. Whatever).  As my girl jumps into the seat next to me we both hear the ominous DING DING of a warning light.  One of my tires is low on air. 

3:30 p.m. After finding a gas station, getting change from the attendant for the air and with Autumn watching the dashboard from the warmth of the car I shiver in my skirt and jacket while trying to put air in the tires.  Between the two of us we figure it out.  We feel pretty triumphant and proud.  I am woman! I can do this!  I just taught my 9-year old have to fill a tire with air.  (It's the small victories, indulge me.)  But now realizing there is no way I will get her home and me back to work on time...I make the decision to take her with me. 

4:00 p.m. Back at work.  Answering phones and working on reports for an hour while she sits quietly like an angel and reads her book....ok, that was a lie.  She flipped on and offs the lights.  She broke three pencils.  She rearranged my pen caddy.  I got practically nothing done.

5:00 p.m. Angels sing!  Day is done...we race home.  Guitar lessons start at 5:30 so I have 30 minutes to pick up Petal (the 4 year old) and get to guitar lessons.  Yes, I can do this.  Super Mom to the rescue!

5:27 p.m.  We pull into guitar lessons.  Autumn grabs her guitar and Petal and I settle in for the 30 minute wait until lessons are over.  We sing songs.  She eats the treat I have brought for her.  She shows me the pictures she has made that day at "school."  (There is an awesome one of me with bright red hair and super skinny legs.  At least the hair part is true.)

6:00 p.m.  Lessons are over.  Now the race home to make dinner.  Lettuce wraps and fried rice.  I'm feeling very gourmet and Betty Crocker-ish. 

6:30 p.m.  Sit down to dinner.  My Betty Crocker meal that I had worked so hard for?  Disaster.  Instead of putting in soy sauce I had grabbed sesame oil.  I know, I know...they don't look, smell or taste remotely the same.  I have no explanation.  I make Petal and PB&J and Autumn a turkey sandwich.  The hubs is now thinking he is coming down with the flu and decides to go to bed.  What?!  Seriously?  Asshole.

7:00 p.m.  A few months ago I had borrowed a steamer from a friend when we moved into our new house.  She needs it back and this is the night I had promised to bring it to her.  No problem.  She only lives 30 minutes away.  I can still do it and get back in time for bath and bed time.  Yep.

7:25 p.m. Arrive at Leslie's house.  (Notice the time...yep, make it in 25 minutes!  Jealous?).  Visited with my friend and her husband a little too quickly (in fact I had to send her a text this morning to inform her I love her and I'm sorry if I was abrupt and rude last night.  For the record, she loves me back and all is forgiven) and leave.

8:15 p.m. Back at home.  Toss Petal into the tub (okay, not really.  It was more like an overly ambitious "Yay! Bathtime!" cheer...kinda strange.  I think now I'm in the punchy zone.)  I scrub her up and sing the "Alice, where are you going" song about 10 times.  It never gets old...apparently.  She blows the bubbles at the cat and we both giggle while Sally tries to get the bubbles off her fur.  Squeakly clean and smelling of tangerines...out of the tub she goes. 

8:30 p.m.  Into the tub goes Autumn.  Of course, she no longer needs me to bathe her.  She just feels an overwhelming urge to ask me a questions every 5 minutes...so I've learned to dry Petal's hair while Autumn bathes and then I can be with them both. 

8:45 p.m. Out of the tub goes Autumn...who quickly informs me that she still has homework.  My eyes roll, I think I hear a blood vessel snap in my brain....I see myself on the floor with paramedics looking me over for signs of stroke (I hope it's cute paramdics with big arm muscles).  But I live through it...and we get started on the homework.

9:30 p.m.  Kisses for my sweet smelling girls.  I kiss their smooth foreheads and stroke their clean hair.  They truly are the best.  And it's the first moment in this entire hectic day I've had to just breathe and love them.  Truly feel the love for them.  I love them always, 24/7, sleeping or waking...but sometimes it takes the calm in the storm to breathe the love I have for them and just embrace it in my heart for a few moments.  So with butterfly kisses and snuggles we say good night.  I promise them the next night will not be so crazy.  (I hope it's not a lie). 

9:45 p.m. Climb exhaustingly onto my elliptical for 45 minutes of grueling cardio.  I don't think it's making any difference in my pants size...but I'm sure it's good for me somehow.  I hate exercise.  Bastard doctors and fitness experts.  Sadists in labcoats or Spandex.

10:30 p.m.  I check on my husband.  Now feeling guilty that I was so angry about his "flu."  He's sleeping in the spare room to avoid getting me or the kids sick.  He has a fever and is shivering.  I'm a horrible wife.  I so could have handled that better.  I vow to do better next time he's sick.  I cover him with another blanket and kiss his cheek. 

10:45 p.m. Quick shower for me, brush teeth, put on pajamas, forget that I didn't feed the cat, feed cat...finally, finally bedtime.  I don't remember even hitting the pillow.

My wish flower today:  I hope I can find myself a wife.  I'm exhausted!  :)

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

A day in the life...

Life is an adventure....

I try to remind myself of that each morning as I'm arguing with two girls about getting ready for school, banging on the bathroom door to get my husband going, packing lunches and tripping over the cat.  It is an adventure I suppose...but it's not one I look forward to each morning. 

I'll be honest, mornings and me have always had a hate/hate relationship.  I want nothing more than to crawl under the warm covers, snuggle with my husband and sleep until noon.  Thats what I want...what I get is the alarm going off at the crack of dawn, kids to feed and fight with, and a husband that possibly hates mornings more than I do.

I'm a harried mother of two with a husband that I sometimes feel is my third child.  I work full-time.  I try and stay up on the housework (often times unsuccessfully).  I try and remember to feed and water the cat (90% effectively).  I remember guitar lessons, parent/teacher conferences, and library books.  I often forget to buy milk or bread.  My family always has clean clothes...but it's usually folded in a laundry basket somewhere and hasn't quite made it to their rooms.  I need to lose weight.  I make great dinners. All in all, I'm probably simply normal.  I'm okay with that.

I read blogs of beautiful moms with beautiful children that look fabulous 24/7.  Yeah..that's not me.  And while I do believe my children are beautiful (and if you ever dare suggest otherwise I will go mama bear on you with NO problem), I have to admit they don't always have their hair perfect, shoes that match their outfit, and (once in awhile) one of us will have peanut butter on our face.   It's okay...really, I remind myself daily.

Tonight I was informed by my husband, who is slightly unhinged regarding sports, that we will be trudging up to the local university for the basketball exhibition game tonight.  I dread, dread, dread.  It's cold.  It's boring.  And when I get home from work all I want is to put on my grungy pajama bottoms and take my bra off.  Instead of be slipping on jeans and sneakers to face the crowds and the cold to watch basketball. 

But I'll go.  Will I complain? Hell yes.  That's the only bright side to the whole endeavor.  I'll complain.  My husband will ignore my complaints.  My girls will giggle in the backseat because we are just SO funny.   Oh well...at least I'll get some yummy kettle corn out of the whole thing. 

I love the quote, "Life is a marathon."  I like it...I don't know who said it, but I like it.  I just hope it wasn't Lance Armstrong.  Yikes. 

But it's true...it's a grueling battle of highs and lows.  Of finding who you are and letting go of who you are not.  Of trying to teach your children to do the same.  It's not easy.  I can do it. 

That's my wish flower for today.  I can do it....please, please let those words be true.