After the kids went to bed last night, The Lumberjack and I sat on the couch and chatted for a bit. We chatted about upcoming plans and future plans. The upcoming plans involved Christmas, road trips, and birthdays. The future plans, of course, involving words such as: bulldozer, garden, wood stove, fence, a rabbit-breeding business, and a horse stable.
Unfortunately, there was no word on when the peach walls will be taking a bow.
We talked until there was nothing left to say and then we got onto the World Wide Web. He had the laptop and I had my phone. I would still consider it marital bonding, however, because I believe my feet were touching his knees. Although, I cannot be certain.
Then we switched devices and got sucked into the vicious game we play everynight.
Do you play this game with your loved ones?
Here’s how you do it:
You need two people, preferrably and old married couple, such as ourselves. Each of you needs some sort of distraction. In this case ours was the laptop and the phone. In past times, it has been the laptop and the TV. You may choose your devices as you see fit. Each of you needs to look busy while using your device. At some point look at your spouse. See that he appears to be doing something super important on the computer. So, you start a another TV show or load another web page as you wait for him to finish up. Fail to realize that he was just checking his email for the 18th time because when he looked up, you looked extremely busy.
Key Game Rules to Remember:
1. Don’t ever actually ask your spouse what they are doing.
2. Don’t ever actually suggest going to bed.
3. Keep loading meaningless web pages and starting TV shows you are too tired to watch.
Do this until of one of you falls asleep on the couch.
Anyways. We were playing that game last night when we heard our youngest boy crying down stairs.
He is such a trouble maker.
Since both of us were so busy on our computerish devices, we both ignored him for a second.
Do not judge us.
You must not be aware of our secret weapon . . .
The Informer.
The Informer is a six year old big sister who loves to tattle.
The Informer is constantly marching up the stairs to, well, inform us of what is going on downstairs.
“Well. You are not going to believe this. The boys. They are naughty. They are out of bed.”
“Mom. Guess what. The boys are playing trucks in bed.”
“Mom. Guess what. The boys are singing.”
“Mom. Guess what. The boys are jumping on their beds.”
“Mom. Guess what. The boys have taken all their blankets and have made a fort.”
“Mom. Guess what. The boys are hiding.”
“Mom. Mom? Mom! Guess what. When I walked by the bathroom, I smelled something funny. So I thought, ‘Hey. I will check it out.’ And I looked in the bathroom and there was poop in the toilet that brother did not flush. And guess what, Mom. He left his underwear on the floor. And guess what. He didn’t wipe very well. Cause, guess what? There is yuckies in his underwear.”
The Informer never stops to think that maybe she might get in trouble because, guess what, she is also not asleep.
So, as we slothfully sat on the couch, we were quite confident that if something were truly wrong, The Informer would come and inform us of it.
After a few moments, Little Dude stopped crying! But then he cried again. But then he stopped again! But then he cried again.
It was becoming more and more apparent that one of us was actually going to have to stand up and walk all the way downstairs to tell him to go to sleep.
Being a parent is exhausting.
Clearly, I am the one who loves the children more because it was I who got up to check on the Dude.
Pop Quiz: What is the worst scenario you can think of when you are checking on your child late at night?
Answer: Vomit.
And, yes. Vomit was everywhere. So, we had to clean it up, bathe him, and change the bedding.
After his bath, I snuggled with him on the couch while David changed the bed. As he snuggled on me, he looked like a baby still.
So then I got sad.
Sad that he is my last baby. Sad that my last baby is two and half. Sad that I will soon never have babies. Sad that life is all going by so fast.
I put him to bed. He said, “La-lu, Ma.”
Which means, of course, “I love you, Mom.”
And then we went to bed. I lay there thinking of how precious all my kids are.
I started thinking of how quickly time was passing, of how it seemed like just yesterday when I stayed home with just Sweet Pea. I thought about how fast they are growing and changing, how life just keeps flying by and I vowed to take more time to pause and enjoy every day.
As I was just about to fall asleep, I was thanking God for blessing me with four children.
And just then, at that moment, Little Dude threw up again.
Yes. It was kind of a bummer.
But, I am still thankful. Still blessed. Still happy.
***
In other, not as sappy news, we are going on a trip! A road trip! I am not sure if I will be posting much, seeing as how I can only post from my phone and I have yet to figure that out.
And you all know how tech-savvy I am.
However, I will definitely be able to post pictures and updates fo Facebook, so if you would like to, you can follow me there.
Click here and then just click on “like.”
Thank you and have a Happy Tuesday!
PS-Let us pray that the vomit shall cease in time for the road trip.
Have you ever tried to clean vomit out of a car seat?
All parents who have cleaned vomit out of the various nooks and crannies of a car seat surely deserve a medal.
The End is Near.
A Friday List.
1. Oh. My. Gosh. Becky.
(Name that song)
Well. You are simply not going to believe this. The girls have a slumber party at one set of grandparents house tonight and the boys have a sleepover at the other set.
Notice how neither grandparental set has taken on all 4 of them at once. This is because they are exhausting and, clearly, I need a medal.
We did not even try to work all this sleep-over-ness out. It just happened, as luck would have it.
Now.
The Lumberjack and I should take advantage of this once in a lifetime occurrence and go on a, dare I say it, “date.”
*However*
We are feeling poor. You know, with Christmas and plane tickets and 400lb pigs and upcoming road trips and whatnot.
Our budget would allow us to stay home, turn off the heat and lights to save on electricity, and eat cold beans out of a can.
But we are probably going to throw caution to the wind and go to a movie.
We owe it to all the parents out there who have awaited a golden opportunity, such as this, to arise.
2. Today is my friend, Amanda’s, THIRTIETH birthday. I went to write on her Facebook wall and it (“it” being the wall . . . keep up, non-Facebook readers!) informed me that Amanda, in all her coolness, had upgraded to the *new* Facebook profile.
New Facebook profiles? I am always behind the times.
I could not find her wall. So I poked her! ha! What is poking? I think it sounds naughty, but that is just cause I am immature and not yet THIRTY. Amanda will probably roll her elderly eyes at my childlike humor.
Everyone please yell, “Happy Birthday, Amanda!” at your computer-ish devices.
*Thank you*
3. On Monday, I resolved to exercise everyday for a month. I have not exercised since Monday. My discipline is impressive, is it not?
4. My one goal yesterday was to finish the Christmas cards. I have not finished them. Again, I find myself questioning my discipline.
5. The Lumberjack hung his buck antlers in our Christmas tree, dear friends! It was something I had not anticipated in all my wicked planning to keep deer mounts off my walls.
Epic Fail: I didn’t take a picture.
Now you will all think I am a liar.
But, I double pinky swear it is true and the only reason I did not take a picture of it for you on this very morn is because it is off to compete in the local “Who done killed the biggest deer?” contest at the sportsman’s store.
Godspeed, Lumberjack.
Godspeed.
6. It is snowing.
7. It is now time for the COW. I am a little random with the COW these days. I am feeling frisky today, and therefore, we shall have a COW this week.
(source)
This week’s COW (comment of the week) goes to The Queen of the Brussels Sprouts:
A story to top your pee story…and make you feel a lot less nasty.
When Princess Hope was about 6 months old, she didn’t sleep…ever. When she pooped…it went EVERYWHERE! We lived in “almost Canada”, and it snowed a lot.
One day, even though it was snowing, and she had decided that day was “poop everywhere day”, we HAD to go to the grocery store, for the only thing left in the pantry was a jar of salsa.
So, of course, I bundle up a wiggly baby, bundle up a tired mommy, buckle said bundled wiggly baby into the car, buckle said mommy into the car, drive to the grocery store, unbuckle mommy, unbuckle baby, grab diaper bag, shuffle into store, find cart, put cart cover on cart, buckle baby, unbundle baby, unbundle mommy, proceed to shop….
Then, I looked down. Right there, smack dab in the middle of the front of my shirt was…you guessed it…poo. Breast fed babies have very runny poo. It also is sticky. I paused for a few seconds, looked down, looked at my list, looked at the baby, looked around me…and kept on shopping. At that very moment in time, I knew I had entered into the sacred sisterhood of mommy-hood. The place where you just don’t care if baby poo is on your shirt and you are grocery shopping. A few swipes with a baby wipe, and I preteneded all was well. There was no way in heck I was going to back track all the way home, buckling and bundling, unbuckling and un bundling…just to change my shirt because of a little poo.
there you go. NASTY! But, I am a mom, and nasty doesn’t seem to bother me anymore.
**
There. A little birth control for you all.
8. Lastly, I am feeling like life is spinning out of control and I am in a “my babies are not babies and my girls are practically in college and I am almost 30 and the end is near and my hair might be turning gray soon and just yesterday I got married so all this is crazy and how did I end up in Ruralville and when did I have four kids and I am homeschooling and my kids are growing up and I am not ready to be done with the baby stage but I am definitely ready to be done with the baby stage and why do they grow up so fast and when will they leave me alone and why can’t they stay little forever” kind of stage.
Sometimes I think back on my childhood and remember all sorts of fun, magical memories of the holidays with my family and I wonder if I am doing the same for my children.
If you have a spare moment, could you leave an idea for a fun, family tradition you do during the holidays in the comments section?
It would be most appreciated.
And with that, Happy Friday!
I shall think of all you poor, pathetic parents stuck in parentland and diapers whilst I am kidless for an ENTIRE NIGHT.
Neener. Neener.