Sisterhood of the traveling sister…

So I drove 14 hours or so yesterday to visit my sister in Denver. To get here (Denver) at a reasonable hour I got up at about 2:30 am and left at around 3:15. With stops, we arrived at 8:30 here (that is with a time change so it was more like 7:30). I did this all by myself. I say this not to brag…but to help you understand if this post is totally not coherent. I have not recovered…and while this all seems to make perfect sense to me, I am not exactly lucid at the moment. The entire trip was surprisingly uneventful until the very last two hours of the trip. That is if course when kids always decide they are DONE with the car. It doesn’t matter if you drive for four hours or fourteen hours…they seem to know and it’s aways the hardest leg of the trip. First we drove into a rain storm that turned to hail. Apparently all the kids thought this was awesome…King Toot squealing with excitement and joy while the girls chant in the back, “Faster! Faster! Faster!”. (never fear, I do not take advice from two and four year olds). Then after that we hit a heavy downpour. This is when King Toot no longer wishes to be in his car seat and expresses it by screaming for an hour. The girls keep shushing each other and tattling to me and crying if someone looks at them.
I get there, a joyous reunion with my sister, brother-in-law and two nephews. That night I go to bed after being up for over seventeen hours. This is the night that the kids decide to wake me up about three times. 1 am King Toot wails…I calm him down. His wail wakes Urpling who then wakes King Toot who won’t calm down so I have to feed him. 5:00 am…King Toot wakes up and wants to play. I get so mad I swaddle him tighter than a burrito and he finally falls asleep. As I am drifting off…again…Sasquatch wakes me up with moaning. When I ask her what’s wrong she responds, “Nothing’s wrong, I’m just making noises.” Yeah…that went over well. Total I managed to slog about six hours of sleep together. But one can only hope and pray that tonight goes a little better. But even so, I have truly enjoyed seeing my sister and her family!

It’s my party…

So we’re having a party at our house tonight. It looks like it’ll be pretty big too. So of course, I go into a flurry of cleaning and planning. But I missed the key part of my planning…timing. When you are childless (and petless I suppose) you can clean as early as you want to and it’s no big deal. But when you add kids to the mix there is something vastly more difficult and tiring than cleaning. It’s KEEPING the house clean once you’re done. So I usually try to time it so that I get the house clean just before people start arriving. It may look like disorganization, but trust me…it’s planned.
But here I am at 3:30 with everything done…and the party isn’t for another three and a half hours! Keeping three kids and two shedding dogs from totally destroying a beautifully cleaned home is no easy task. I confess…Pixar has played a huge role in keeping the kids quiet and occupied. I am not a huge fan of using the TV as a babysitter…but there are moments of desperation and this is one of them. The dogs were banned outside until the hubby complained it was too hot. So now they are gated into a back area of the house in a futile attempt to keep the vast amounts of shedding fur confined to a small area of the house. Now to strap in and make it until 7.

Note: This is in no way supposed to make those who are coming to my house tonight feel guilty. I love having people over, and if it weren’t for guests my house would probably never be cleaned. I am super excited for tonight. I was just aggravated that I timed my cleaning so poorly. I could have slept in a few hours…or taken a nap. I blame my dad. He came and watched the kids for me, resulting in astonishing cleaning times. (kidding Dad) It’s amazing what I can get done when the children aren’t underfoot or “helping”. 😉

A Quick Pit Stop

Sir Smiley was at work, and had just received a call that had the potential to be quite long. He was running on full, so decided a quick pit stop at a local gas station was in order before he strapped in for a long night. He was in the bathroom for about 30 seconds, doing his business when he hears, “Officer?” come from behind him. Great. What is so important it couldn’t wait 30 seconds for him to finish? Does he need his gun? And if he does, what should he do with his…um….”secondary unit” as he turns around? He responds, “Yes?” to which the voice replies, “I think there is a drug deal happening right now in the parking lot.” Sir Smiley sighs, finishes up, and heads out. He sees one car leaving after they spotted the patrol car in the lot. He hops into his car and pulls behind them as they pull into the Mecca-of-crime shopping center (his words, not mine). The first words out of the driver’s mouth was, “I might have this warrant.”. That always bodes well. The driver ended up having two warrants and was driving on a suspended license so Sir Smiley arranges to have the car towed and the driver arrested. In the meantime he searches the vehicle and finds medication bottles stuffed into the dash where the radio should be. Eureka! It has to be their stash! Wait, no…they have just stuffed some brads and other random objects in there. Pile after pile he pulls out, but no luck. He never found the stash, but was still able to arrest the driver based on his warrants and driving on a suspended license. All in all, a very productive bathroom break.

100th Post

So this is my 100th post to my blog. It’s like the 100th day of school, or the 100th episode. I should do something thrilling, unique and maybe artsy craftsy. Maybe I should make a macaroni necklace with 100 noodles on it, or create a blog where my whole family is in an alternate reality and what would that look like. Maybe a collage where I choose 100 objects that reflect aspects if myself and pontificate about what it all symbolizes. But I’m a mom of three little ones and that just sounds exhausting. I’ll have my kids eat 100 Cheerios to commemorate the occasion. But as it is, I think I’ll just ramble on in a windy road of self reflection.
First, I am amazed that people seem to read my blog still…or ever. I expected my family to red it occasionally, but other people seem to actually read it too. Very flattering….but it might be that my thoughts are like a car wreck, you just can’t look away. Or like Jersey Shore. But anyway, I actually seem to be writing to actual readers. A bit intimidating, so I’ll go back to pretending no one reads this. Done and done. Some things I’ve learned in 100 blogs? Well, I suck at grammar. I just gave up, satisfied that at least I don’t look like I’m texting my blogs. btw, I’m omw to get gas, I’ll brb and then I’ll rofl as I watch you try to decode what I just said. (I am laughing right now because my iPad just tried to autocorrect each of those into their actual phrases…I can’t even begin to describe the thoughts that come up when I realized that). So as far as grammar goes…I’ll just try to stay ahead of the curve. Oh, I have also learned that typing on an iPad is good and bad. I am learning some very bad habits. I never use an apostrophe in my contractions as the autocorrect automatically puts it in for me. Double space automatically puts in a period. If I were to ever type on an actual computer keyboard it would look like a monkey took my place. (well, to be fair, a monkey would probably have better grammar). But the autocorrect has been a lifesaver for me. Especially since my spelling leaves something to be desired. I have also learned I am probably the most random person alive. I already knew this, as my friends all through high school would take great joy in teasing me with the bizarre subject changes. But I managed to hide this flaw until I started blogging. I also love using the dot dot dot to show a mental break…I also put in an obscene amount of parenthesis and I have issues hitting the space bar correctly on this iPad. So I’ll look up and an entire sentence is one word.
Second, (if you can really count that whole long ramble as a first thought) I have been pondering why I blog. I used to think blogging was silly. What on Earth would I write about? (see, here is where my grammar incompetence comes in…do you capitalize earth if it’s part of a phrase? Got me.) I have no particular talents…I tend to dabble in everything. My van has the cheesy family decals, a scuba decal, a half marathon decal and a decal for the Horde (world of Warcraft) just to give you a sampling of how random I am to the core. But people who blog are crafty, talented cooks, deep philosophers….and then there’s me. But I did notice something. Across the board, we people are the most judgmental and rigid creatures. Just go to any political post and watch the ugliness ensue. We shake our heads at those with signs or bumper stickers or posts we disagree with…without knowing anything about the person carrying it. What life events caused them to make choices different than you? Are they really worthy of your disdain simply because they have made a political choice that differs from you? Obviously, the other party is evil and is plotting the downfall of man while our party is full of angelic beings and our political leaders are practically the next Messiah (insert sarcasm font here) It gets even worse when you add our children into the mix. I have seen a mom lecture an old man who gave her son some candy from the candy machine her son was checking, Why? Because it had high fructose corn syrup in it. I mean…the guy had to be about eighty. How hard would it be to thank the kind man, and then when they were out of sight throw the candy away? Moms who shake their heads at kids who are having a meltdown, climbing the outside of the play place (yeah, that was me and let’s be honest…I was sitting in McDonald’s…on what basis am I judging people?), using a nuk too long, etc. We all want to look amazing as a mom and then lord it over each other. So, as I said in my About Me section, I blog to make people feel better about themselves. Parenting is the most aggravating, stressful, frustrating, beautiful, rewarding, fun, painful roller coaster ride. I wanted to attempt to demonstrate the emotions of failure surrounded by a deep love and a desire to do better. Success softened by the knowledge of how easily it can slide the other way. For other parents to gain comfort knowing that it won’t always be unicorns and rainbows and fuzzy puppies. I mean, unicorns don’t even exist, it storms before a rainbow appears and fuzzy puppies eat things and shed all over everything. I rest my case, anyone who acts otherwise is lying. We have all hit the point of crying in the short, screaming into pillows and finding ourselves wanting to punch something to release the frustration and hurt building inside us. We have all also melted into little puddles on the floor merely at the sight of our kids smiles. It’s totally normal!
Third, I also decided to blog because Sir Smiley has some fantastic stories from the job and I figured they needed to be written down in some way. It seemed such a waste for these stories to go untold.
Oh, and I needed a place to vent, as my pillows weren’t taking the beatings very well.

So I have made it to 100 posts, and I actually have people reading my blog. Amazing! Thanks to all of you for actually taking time to read the craziness that comes out of my head, and hopefully the next 100 posts will be equally mesmerizing…or horrifying.

The Fortress of…fun

I was totally going to have the fortress have some amazingly awesome name that would just wow you and draw you in. But yeah, my brain is on strike so you’ll have to settle for the mundane alliteration instead.
It’s been a rough week. Not that anything catastrophic has happened. But it’s just one of those weeks where no one seems to be happy. The girls are constantly fighting and crying and I have the motivation of a sloth…a lazy sloth. It’s way too hot which only adds to the irritability. I digress…into whining. I have not been enjoying motherhood this week. It happens, there are just off weeks where no one is happy. But in an attempt to break the vicious cycle I decided it was high time the girls built a fort. We used the typical couches/bookshelfs/coffee table-draped-with-blankets configuration. It was magic. The girls crawled in and out, in and out, in and out for at least an hour. King Toot thought it was fantastic. He has finally managed to scoot…not crawl but he can get around now…so he scoots right on in and starts pulling on things and giggling and laughing as the girls yell at him to stop. It was hilarious.
Of course, after the hour was up they started melting down again and I shoved them in bed. Urpling spent most of the time in the nursery at church this morning torturing the poor workers with high pitched shrieks and cries if anyone dared to play with anything she had looked at. But at least I had that one hour where my kids were happy and I was actually able to enjoy them. Releasing the inner kid aways feels good.

Note: the fort is still up, as Sasquatch has decided grandma and papa have to see it. I need my living room so if my parents don’t visit soon, a special Skype session with Sir Smiley’s parents will be needed. (Really, I think a special Skype session is needed anyway…hmmmmm)

Choking Hazards

Choking, the fear of all mothers. My four year old still doesn’t get popcorn as I’m sure it will lead to certain death. I cut up hotdogs into little bits. I will be honest. I am not a “helicopter mom”. I don’t hover very much, and try to give kids their freedom. But any mom who is honest will always worry. It is constantly in the back of your mind. King Toot is starting to pull himself up, so as I was showering today I suddenly wondered if he would fall out of his crib while I showered for 5 minutes. I digress. Choking is bad. With Sasquatch it was a bit easier to baby proof. Once she started scooting and crawling, I crawled around the house and scoured every inch of the house and put up anything that she might choke on. (rule of thumb is anything that can fit in a toilet paper roll is hazardous.). There are always a few mishaps, but she was the only one moving anything around. By the time King Toot has now started scooting I have a new problem. His sisters. They of course want to play with toys a baby shouldn’t have. They also dote on him and want to share their toys. So my first solution was to ban those toys to the girls’ room. You can guess how long that lasted before the girls we dragging those toys out to play in the living room. So now they are banned to upper shelves and closets until King Toot is a bit older. But unfortunately this house seems to have a choking hazard fairy. Running around and leaving bits of paper, cardboard, and little plastic pieces I have never seen in my life, for my baby to try and eat. Every night I search the house and confiscated any offending items. But it doesn’t matter, King Toot manages to find them and stick them in his mouth before I ever get a glimpse. If it’s not an evil fairy, it must be a sixth sense or something. His special gift is finding objects that are perfect esophagus sized bits that perfectly block his airway.
Sasquatch has become my canary in the mineshaft. She always comes running to tell me that King Toot, “has a choking hazard in his mouth.”. I may need to take a room, pad it all around, and have absolutely nothing in it; but even then I have the suspicion that he would be able to rip the stuffing out of the padding and get in his mouth in the time it takes me to pee. Lots of prayer will hopefully preserve this little boy with the talent for finding the dreaded “choking hazards”. At least until he’s old enough to bring on a new set of fears.

Note: After I wrote this, King Toot found a plastic grocery bag. OMG…where do these things come from?!

Don’t mess with the Sheriff…

Today we had a very satisfying driving experience. Sir Smiley and I were in the car with the family, headed out to do some shopping. Sit Smiley was going about 80 in a 65…so a tad fast. We start to catch up to a sheriff who was in the right lane, so Sir Smiley slows down to 75. “You don’t want to fly past the Sheriff going 80?” I ask. He looks at me and laughs, “No! He’ll pull me over and ticket me for sure, even with my badge!” Just as he says that, a white car goes whipping past us doing well over 90. We glance at each other and then at the sheriff, who has now started merging across several lanes of traffic. “Here comes the Sheriff” was all I got out before he had his lights and sirens going. Moral of the story…don’t mess with the sheriff.

Battlefield Home

I was contemplating today the term, “you need to pick your battles”. There is quite a bit of wisdom in this, but it got me to thinking about how my home sometimes feels like a battlefield and what that really means. This may be a bit rambling, as my thoughts are all over the place, but I’ll try not to seem to ADD as I explain my (squirrel!) thoughts.
First is the phrase itself. I think overall it’s a good thing to remember. Too often, we have these preconceived ideas about what our children should be like. What they’re behaviors will be, what their personalities should be molded into, etc. Not just with the first kid…after the first one, we think we know what to do. We try to raise the second one the same way (or differently if we think we’ve learned from all those mistakes with the first one). But there comes a point where you realize some things just aren’t that important. I’m not just talking about letting your kid go grocery shopping in her Jessie costume from Halloween in July. There are always those small battles we automatically let go of, because they are superficial. But I am talking about taking some basic ideas of what you thought kids should be like and be willing to change those ideas sometimes. Any parent who said, “I will always” or “I will never”, is going to be in a whole lot of trouble. (yes, yes, some things we will be unbending on. Don’t run into the street, don’t talk to strangers, don’t shove random objects into the DVD player. I’m talking about parenting styles. Cosleeping, cry it out, all the awesome mommy blog catch phrases) We need to take time getting to know our children and what makes them tick. For example, I have a lifelong friend whom I respect greatly who is going to have her oldest son tested for autism. I must say, for any parent who goes through this, you are awesome! You have taken preconceived ideas, chucked them out the window,and said “I want to know and love and help my child, not change them.” After battling and battling with her son when he would melt down at seemingly meaningless things (a tear in his bread, something not lined up just right) she came to realize he isn’t defiant. He just sees things differently. How wonderful for this little boy to have a mom who will take another look and love him for who he is. Discipline and parenting styles come and go…every child is different. So picking your battles, to me, means that we know our children and adjust accordingly.
I hate the term battle, as it implies two enemies, battling it out. I think of those moments in action movies where all hell breaks loose and suddenly you find the hero(ine) hiding out of line of sight, trying to figure out their next move. While I admit that I have felt like that a lot this weekend (and the past four and a half years really), what bothers me is my children are not the enemy. That being said, I am responsible for them. For teaching them, shaping them, guiding them into the adults God wants them to be. This leads to conflict. What makes it so hard is how much I love them. I love them so much that things that wouldn’t hurt me from others cut me to the quick with them. I want to be a good mom, for everyone to always be happy. I want us to sing kumbaya around a camp fire, while we constantly tell each other how great we are and no one ever is injured, fails, or is spiteful. But unfortunately we live in reality of a fallen world, and their mother is me, a fallen human. I overreact. They push back. I yell and punish. They cry and get mad. So battles ensue.
After a long stretch of children refusing to nap we’ve had a battlefield for a home the past few days. King Toot is teething, badly. Sir Smiley has been stuck working a lot. By the end of the last from days, it has become the age old question: which came first, the chicken or the egg? A they cranky because I am, or am I cranky because they have been? Who knows. But I have come to a few conclusions. I love my kids and they love me. I need to apologize when I realize that I overreacted to their small rebellions. Basically, sometimes I chose the wrong battle…some things aren’t as important as you think at first. I need to eat some humble pie and let my kids see. Maybe it’s okay to let Sasquatch pick up her toys using the small arms of her T-Rex doll. Sure it takes an extra hour since he drops every toy five times before it makes it to its spot. But at least she’s picking up! Every day is a new day, a chance to start fresh. But if you are about to drop a nuke to wipe out the entire population of your household because you are that close to a mental break, 6 pm is a perfectly reasonable bedtime to help speed up the approach to that new day.

Tweaker Heaven…or Hell

This post is actually a guest post of sorts. It comes from a fellow officer of Sir Smiley..whom we shall refer to as Tat…and was actually a status from his facebook page. It was a status, and several comments…some comments I have included for your amusement. Basically, being a Police Officer is often like being a parent. Only those behaving like my 4, 2, and 7 month old children are usually in their 20s and 30s (or older). So here is a glimpse into my hubby’s world:

Tat’s Status:

Visualize with me. Lady calls because she wants her tweaked out roommate kicked out. She is tweaked out of her mind as well and has sores all over her face. I explain to her that he needs to be evicted. Thought that took care of it. I get a 2nd call from Walgreens. They say a lady is hiding behind the counter. I get there and sure as shit she’s behind the counter, she tells me she’s charging her cell phone. Management walks by and says shes fine, she can stay til they close. Lol O.K. She proceeds to tell me that her roommate has destroyed the house, smeared food all over the walls and cut the lines to the water causing the apartment to flood. I tell her if I go there and she’s imagining this, I’m taking her to jail. So for shits and giggles I made the wrong decision and go there. I round the corner and sure as shit there is a waterfall coming out the front door. I clear for another unit. In the mean time tweaker roommate comes out like no big deal and asks whats going on lol. I have him sit on the wall as I take a gander inside. Bad decision. I got water up to my boots and it’s coming down the ceiling from upstairs. He had 2 ovens on and one was catching fire. Also an electric heater and fan going. Dude cut the lines to the sink upstairs and the washer downstairs. I’m unplugging shit trying not to get electrocuted as the ceiling is getting ready to collapse on me. Then I apparently leaned on the wall as the left side of my uniform was covered in what I hope to be tartar sauce. Got the water turned off and didn’t get electrocuted. Dude tells me he had no idea what happened, he just woke up of course. I in the mean time have forgotten about the lady who apparently is working for free at Walgreens behind the register, but before I get to her she calls 911 and says that her roommate has just tried to stab her with a switch blade. Even tho they are a mile apart. I then go back and talk to her where I ask her about calling 911 for the apparent knife attack. She didn’t remember making that call. Dude leaves and I take her back to the apartment. I get back to the station when she calls 911 again because the roommate came back. He forgot his porn. Seriously. I don’t know how I did it but apparently God is pissed at me.

Comments:

Tat: We should make this into a “don’t do drugs” commercial.

2eyes: By far the best call of the week….I could not stop laughing! And just for the record she told me she doesn’t do meth, she used to use herion but today she did a little blow.

2eyes also posted on Tat’s wall: Best call of the night last night was when “Tat” decided to see if the tweeker chic he was talking to at Walgreen’s for the 4th time was really telling the truth when she told him her roomate smeared food on the walls and cut the water lines at her apartment…sure as shit it was about 6″ deep and flowing out the front door. He even cut the water line upstairs so the ceiling looked like a waterfall and was about ready to collapse. And if that wasn’t enough he plugged in every working appliance in the place, turned on the stove and the oven and by the time “Tat” got there, there was smoke And yes there was food on the walls…he had smeared everything he could find in the fridge throughout the apartment. (I found the BBQ that was on the door frame) But the best quote of the night was when “Tat” first got there “Can you roll me another unit? I’m in tweeker heaven here and there is water everywhere!” followed by “Can someone turn this water off?”; then “can someone shut this electricity off before I get electrocuted in here?” Holy Hell I couldn’t stop laughing…..sometimes I really do LOVE my job!!!

So there you have it folks….just another day in the life of a Police Officer…

Day off?

It is hot. I’m about to go wild and crazy and crank the air down to 76. I’m not kidding. I’m gonna walk on the wild side. One result of the heat is cranky…..everyone. Sasquatch cries because Urpling won’t take the toy she is offering. Urpling is crying because she want King Toot grabbed her toy she hadn’t touched since yesterday. King Toot seems to be fine….but now that I’ve said that the high pitched squeak is inevitable I am certain. Oh, and with the heat comes a complete and utter lack of motivation to do anything. I mean, I am breaking a sweat just sitting here. So getting up to actually do something? Pfffftt. So I decided to take the day off. Then I laughed hysterically for 10 minutes. Then cried for 5. Ever tried to have a day off with three kids under the age of 4.5? Without a spouse or some other reasonably responsible tall person to field all questions. Sir Smiley is at work, so no help is on the horizon. But heck, even when someone else is around, they will run past them and into the bathroom to ask mommy to get the crayons down while she’s pooping. I reminisce of days when I only had one kid. How relaxing that was. Only one crying child. Only one extra meal, one extra set of teeth to brush (I HATE brushing teeth…not sure why, I just do). Only one other person to change and to bathe. I digress. The heat has made me incapable of holding a coherent thought for more than a few seconds. Where was I? Oh, I decided to take the day off. (snicker…sob).
I have been very careful not to have too much tv around the kids. It’s addictive for us all. Yes, every Dora episode sounds exactly the same, and even Pixar loses it’s charm when you have seen them so many times you’re dreaming of the characters. (that and I’ve been watching Fringe and The Big Bang…you can imagine how disturbing those dreams are). But kids are soooooo quiet when that magical box is on. So I confess, we’re having a movie (and coloring) night. I am sitting here on the couch talking to the girls about how Larry is a good guy, and that big pickle is really mean. But, I get to sit quietly and maybe actually get a few moments to sneak in a little reading. Oh and chores? Don’t make me laugh. Somedays, even Mommy’s deserve to be a tad irresponsible. (meaning I still end up making meals for everyone and get everyone for bed. But maybe I won’t vaccum or give the kids a bath. They don’t smell bad yet. I also will probably just nuke something for dinner. otherwise turning on a stove or oven is involved and that’s just not gonna fly with me tonight). So here’s to a day off…big or small!