For those of you that are of the praying sort . . .

Please send some angels by way of my mom and dad.  They are having some medical issues and could use some extra love.

Thanks.

Annie

There is Tall Man

Dear Crazy Man in the Blue Sedan,

Thank you so much for speeding by my van today.  I particularly like how you hung out the window with your middle finger extended.  I can definitely say it sparked an interesting discussion in our car.

For instance,  my lovely little five year old boy wondered why you were so angry while singing the  Where is Thumbkin?  song.  And, rightfully so.  How could you be so angry when you obviously were singing about the Tall Man?  We concluded that you were probably  just emphasizing your love for the song.

Why else would you extend your middle finger like that?

Sincerely,

Annie

P.S. Because of your generous spirit, I was treated to Where is Thumbkin? approximately 27 times later this afternoon.  So, thanks once again!

My Days Are Numbered

There are days that life as a stay at home mom are rather, well, lonely.

Don't get me wrong.  I am busy.  Busy. Busy. Busy.  From the moment that my eyes open slowly in the morning, until those same sleepy eyes drop dead in the evening (sometimes even during dinner),  I am on the go.

I follow a carefully choreographed routine that pulls me through each and every day.  

breakfast. dressing for school. drop off. load 1 of laundry. straighten kitchen. play. gym workout. preschool pick-up. prepare lunch. eat? load 2 of laundry. naptime for el? play. straighten a room I pick at random.  shower? prepare dinner before the witching hour. prepare lessons for tutoring.  elementary school pickup.  tutoring session. hubby to the rescue. maybe. finish dinner. eat? homework. playtime. bathtime. bed.

In around that order.  Every day.  Week after week.

Seriously folks.  Stay at home momdom is a wonderful blessing.  And a curse.  

The monotony and the loneliness of stay at home mom life is sometimes overwhelming.  And yes, I do have other mommy friends that are in the same boat, and we do support and commiserate with each other, but the fact remains that they too are in the same boat.  And, because of that, neither they, nor I, are able to foster a  blossoming friendship.  I am surviving.  They are surviving.  Occasionally we share the same life raft and a few laughs.

That's about it.

And, it frequently makes me wonder.  Are other moms out there just as isolated?  Just as all encompassing busy that just the thought of one more relationship (even if it is with someone that can relate to) puts a strain on the delicate balance of their lives?  Are working moms lonely too?  Do they stress about all of the things that I do, plus, a full time job?  

Egads.

It's enough to make you want to chop off your hair, run away to bermuda, and hope that no one recognizes you on the way.

Instead, I trudge through.  I eat chocolate.  I light candles.  I drink a glass of wine.  And I lock the door to the bathroom, and attempt a bubble bath. I call friends and remember what it feels like to be Annie.  Not mom. Or wifey. 

I smile at my kiddies and laugh with their laughs.  I try to remember that this walking dead tired feeling is a fleeting feeling.  That someday my babies will be gone, my washer will get a break, my floors will be sans any stray goldfish.  And my heart will ache.

Then, I will know a different loneliness.

So, I will take each and every one of these lonely stay at home mom days.

Even though my kiddies are little, I know I don't have that many left.

More Than Words . . .

Things that I have said (that I never thought I would have to say):

Don't play with your penis.

Pee- pees are private.  Please go put on your underwear. 

What do you mean you do not have on underwear?

Feet don't eat.  Get your feet off the table.

Boogers are made of dirt.  Do you seriously want to eat dirt?

Hold it in!  Hold it in!  Don't get sick at the table!

Did you wipe your butt well?

Did you wash your hands?

Are you sure?

Really?

Mommy needs a dose of caffeine.  Please, let mommy get some coffee.

I am not sleeping.  I am resting my eyes.

Aren't you tired?  How is it possible that you guys are not tired?

Did you boy look or did you girl look for that?

Really?

Did you move the milk before you asked me where it is?

Hmm.  I thought so.

Sniff her butt.  Does she stink?

Is that poopie or chocolate?   Mmmmm.  Chocolate.

Ellerie!  That is not a slide!  That is a bannister!

Do I have to be Darth Vader again?

No, it isn't a step monster it is a step- mother.  There is a difference.

Tinkerella?  Oh!  You mean Tinkerbell!

Where are your clothes?

Why are you naked, outside, on the swing?

Is that another outfit today?

Sniff the laundry.  It may not be that dirty.

No, you are a mo mo!

The tickle monster is coming to get you!!!

Snuggle closer.  I am cold!

I love you as many leaves are on the trees on the way to school.

More kisses please!

My heart hurts, I love you so much!

And all of these . . . just in the past week.  My family is the best.

Happy Fall

It's fall!

I love everything about fall.   The colorful crunchy leaves, the crisp evenings that require an extra blanket on my bed, and of course, all the yummy soups and stews that comfort me on a cool day make fall a particularly lovely time of the year.  If I could just adjust to getting up and moving in the dark, all would be well in my world.  Well, not all.  (Ellerie is still potty training.)  But, a lot would be well.

Alas, I digress.

So, in order to spruce up my front entry, I devised a pumpkin house number.  Now, I can not take all of the credit for this.  I spied one of these adorable pumpkin house numbers on another friend's porch, and then I brazenly copied it, and added my own twist.  (Please forgive the picture quality.  I used my cell.)

This was seriously simple, and cheap.  Two fabulous qualities for an Annie craft.   I used three styrofoam  pumpkins that I got on after Halloween clearance last year.  I painted my house numbers on the front and then used a wooden dowel (is that the right word??) to put them one on top of another. ( Currently, they are listing a little to the right, so today I may tweak the dowel rod a bit to make it a bit more stable. ) The flowers are from stems that I purchased at the Dollar Store.  I took the blooms and leaves apart, rearranged them  and then stuck them into some floral foam. Finally, I placed them all into the ceramic witch's feet and pumpkin that I bought at Target for 90% off last year.  The result?

Darling.

And festive.

I love, love, love it.

What do you think?

****Hop on over to DIY Day at ASPTL to see more DIY projects.

Born to Sop

After dropping off the big kids at school, I grabbed Ellerie and said, "Hey girlie!  We are going to the store!"

She smiled wide, and then said it.

"Sop!  I wan sop!"

Translation:  "Shop!  I want to shop!"

I swear I teared up a little.

It was just so beautiful.

Completely

Completely candid Ethan.

Completely soaking his sisters.

Completely enjoying himself.

Completely in the moment.

I completely love this boy!

********This is part of I heart faces . . . Completely Candid Week!  Hop on over to their site for more candid pics.

Time Keeps on Slipping . . .

Picture day!

And my baby . . . 

My first baby.

Steals my breath away.

 

A long-legged awkward colt, 

Becoming a mare,

Before disbelieving eyes.

Part little girl.

Part young lady.

Part of me.

I grab at time.

But it skips through my fingers.

Laughing and knowing,

That it will always escape my grasp.

Instead,

I grab my girl,

And fiercely hug her,

Smelling her youth and beauty.

And drinking in her loveliness.

****** This photo was taken by a friend, Carmen, of Blink of An Eye Photography.  It was a candid that captured that all encompassing, full of love feeling that I have for Ab.  I also like that I was very pregnant with my other favorite girl, Ellerie.  It is a favorite photo of mine.  Recently, Carmen was asked by Chic Mom magazine to use the photo for its online cover.  I was flattered and of course said yes!  So, hop on by Blink of An Eye Photography or Chic Mom Magazine and check them out!

Decoding Ellerie

Someday, when I go back to the work force, I am going to put translator on my resume.  Ellerie gave me some translation practice today, in fact, when she barged in on my bath.

"Maaaa!"  she stated emphatically.  "Waaaah peese  beh -yee butt!" as she pointed at my belly.

I understood her perfectly.

Translated, Ellerie's statement reads, "Mom!  There is water in your belly button!"

You see, any water, whether it is a drink of water, a water balloon, or bath water is Wah peese, and since she can't say any l's, belly is beh -yee.  Button is butt, of course.  

There you have it.  Ellerie speak, decoded.

So, if you happen to hear her yell, "Open butt!"  Never fear.

She just wants her buttons unbuttoned or opened, and not her butt literally opened, like Ethan thought.  Sometimes I fear that that boy will never get the nuances of the female language.  

He will be lost like every other man out there!

To the Drive Food We Go

On the way home from his young fives class, E asked the following question.

"Hey mom?  Can we have drive food?"

"Drive food?"  I countered.  "Do you mean drive through food?"

He smiled and replied.  "Yep!  I need some drive food fries.  It's been forever."

It has.

And although not the healthiest of fare, a McDonald's french fry hits the spot every now and then.

OB or Not OB

******My apologies to any male readers on this one.  I have a feeling that you can not relate.  This may be too much information for you and may cause unnecessary emotional scarring.  Be warned!

I had my yearly OB appointment today.

Yes.  That one.

And here is what gets me.

First, you are ushered back to the exam room, where inevitably a perky nurse takes your weight.  Not fun!  And this year, not accurate!  I have proof.   Both my scale and the gym scale TODAY read exactly the same weight.  The OB's?  4 pounds heavier.  Are they trying to induce panic attacks in the hopes of sending some poor pregnant lady into labor early?  Next year, I am just making a conscious decision to not look.  My whole day will be better.

Next, you are made to wait for the doc for for-ev-er.  This though is not the bad part.  The bad part is that you  are made to wait for the doc sans bottoms.  Yes, ladies.  You know I am right.  You sit.  And, you wait.  And your bottom is just naked and flapping in the wind. (If there were wind, but there is not, so I guess I digress.)  The only covering the nurse gives you is a flimsy paper blanket about the thickness of a poor coffee filter.  If my kids were there (Which they weren't.  Thank you lord!), I wouldn't even have let them color on that blanket with markers, because it was so thin, inevitably a rainbow of color would bleed through it.

Finally, during the exam, when you are positioned precariously in stirrups with your nether areas exposed for the world (ok. ok.  - the doctor!  Forgive my exaggeration.) to see,  the said happy doc begins to shoot the breeze.  Yes, that's right.  Doc makes small talk and asks about your vacation and your summer and, well, whatever.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I am all about a caring and concerned physician, but talking while your legs are spread and your privates are on show?  That is just something that I can not do.

So, all in all, an interesting afternoon.

I am sooooooo looking forward to next year!

Not Me! 9/14

After the insanity of Ellerie and the epi-pen last week, kitchen remodeling, and hubby's football schedule, I am pooped.

And it's Monday.

Not a good combination.

I need a real coffee ( Did I mention that hubby broke the coffee pot?  I loved, loved, loved that coffee pot.  I am currently in mourning sipping my instant coffee.  Yuck!), a dose of therapy, and maybe a chocolate donut or four to get me through.

Onto my Not Me! therapy . . .

It is not me that is wearing a pair of noticeably crooked glasses.  I would care about my appearance and realize that my outside reflects my inside.  No way would I wear a pair of glasses that Ellerie twisted.  When she popped the left lens out of the frame, I would have headed straight to the optometrist's office for a new pair.  No way would I be so cheap as to try to manipulate the lens back into the frame and twist the frame back into submission so as to gain a few more months with glasses that make me look like one of my eyebrows is permanently raised.

It is not me that  has dried macaroni and cheese, two dried green beans, and shriveled apple pieces on my dining room area rug from yesterday's meals.  I would have trudged through my tiredness and clean up that mess no matter what.  I would not have chose to snuggle with my kiddies before their bedtime instead of cleaning up the mess.

And, it was certainly not me that redirected Ellerie and her smelly diaper toward hubby instead of changing it myself.  Ridiculous!

It was also not me that consumed mounds of cheese, loads of salt, and enormous portions of chocolate this weekend in order to manage my stress.

Consequently, it couldn't be me that is as bloated as say . . . a house this morning.  I certainly didn't have to opt to wear my fat pants to bring the kiddies to school.  Nope! Not me!

So there you have it.

It's Monday.  I am drinking instant coffee, wearing broken glasses and donning fat pants.

Pretty picture?  No?!

I hope this is not foreshadowing for my week to come.

********Hop on over to MckMama's to read more not me drama.

Dreaming

Back to school.

Back to work.

Back to routine.

Wish we were back to the beach . . . dreaming.

********This is part of I heart faces, contemplative faces week.

Shaken and Stirred

Ellerie apparently was a bit lonesome today in the gym nursery.  So, when I arrived to get her, she was munching on something that a staff member had given her to calm her down.

"What are you eating you silly girl?"  I asked her playfully as I picked her up.

And then I smelled it.

Peanut butter.

Ellerie is allergic to peanuts.

My heart sank and I went into mommy adrenaline mode.  And, I am happy to report that with epi-pen, doctors, and much monitoring, Ellerie is just fine.

I can not say the same for her mom, however.

How can I explain how shaken I am?

In the heat of the moment, I did all the right things.  I watched her vitals and when she appeared to go south, I got out that nasty needle, and I shot her  beautiful, unmarred, chubby little leg.  I didn't even hesitate.  

So why, hours later, am I a mess?

Why as I gaze upon her sleeping little body, her curls matted against her sweaty forehead, why am I now frozen with fear?  I keep repeating to myself,  "She is OK,"  in the hopes that repeating it will help me believe it.

But, I don't believe it.  Not really.  I keep thinking about the what if's.  Like, what if I hadn't arrived as she was chewing that cookie.  What if I had been five minutes later?  What if  I wasn't able to administer her epi-pen?  What if I didn't get her the proper medical attention in time?  

What if?

 

What if? 

What if?

It's enough to drive me insane.

For now, I will hold her close as she sleeps contentedly away.  I will love all of her impish and devilish ways.  And, I will appreciate that God has forever blessed me when he entrusted Ellerie to me.

Thank you dear lord.

Thank you.

My Apologies

An Open Letter to the Folks in Section B at Friday Night's Football Game

Dear Fans,

I heartily apologize.  

Hmmmm.  

Exactly what was I thinking bringing my almost 2 year old to the high school football game?  I know.  I know.  My hubby is the coach, and we do live in the community.  Naturally, we like to support him and the team, but I did not factor in the Ellerie effect.

And for that, I am sorry.

I am sorry that your view of the game was obstructed by Ellerie climbing up and down the bleacher stairs. (And me chasing her for that matter!)  I am sorry that you heard, "Ellerie!"  instead of some spirited game chants.  I am sorry that our polite conversations were interrupted by me having to chase after my 2 year old devil.  I am sure that you had some very interesting things to say, but, for the life of me, I could not concentrate.  Forgive me.

Mostly though, I am sorry for the 2nd quarter incident.  I am sorry that when I went after Ellerie for the 37th time, she decided that she had had enough.  I am sorry that as El arched her back and grabbed my shirt in protest, I did not react quickly enough.  

So it follows that I am truly sorry that I exposed my left breast to you, the fans, in Section B.

Yes, it was covered with a bra.  Yes, it was an accident.  Yes, I am embarrassed.

And, I am sorry, sorry, sorry.

Forgive me.

Sincerely,

Annie

P.S.  I will not be bringing Ellerie back next week.

You Want a Nipple?

It started off as a normal request.

"Mom?  Can I have some chocolate?"  Ethan asked.

Looking at the clock and thinking about his impending bedtime, I answered, "Nope.  Not tonight buddy.  I don't want you wild and crazy at bedtime."

He instantly frowned, but then switched to a new tactic.  "Well, OK, " he agreed. "But what about just a nipple?"

"A what?"  I immediately replied.

"You know mom,"  he exaggerated as if he was stating the obvious, " . . . a nipple."

As I choked on my laugh, my mind referenced the Seinfeld episode where Elaine inadvertently sent out Christmas card pictures where she exposed her nipple.  Surely, Ethan was not, in fact, referring to an actual nipple, on an actual breast?  What did that have to do with chocolate (except maybe on a wild night in the confines of your bedroom)? 

"E?  Mommy doesn't know exactly what you mean, so could you show me?"  I handed him a bit of a Hershey bar and watched for his reaction.

He grabbed the piece, said, "Sure Mom!" and then very carefully took the teeniest, tiniest bite of the edge.  A nibble, if you will.

I laughed, relieved that he wasn't talking about a nipple.  

I am sooooo not ready for that conversation.  But, I will have to clear up the nipple/ nibble controversy before he starts school tomorrow.

That would be an interesting note home.

The Many Faces of E

Is there any wonder why I love, love, love this little guy?

He's goofy.

He's playful.

He's charming.

He's my Ethan.

He drives me crazy, but I love every minute of it.

Update on the Kitchen Remodel

The kitchen remodel insanity continues.  

Stage 1 . . . done.  

Stage 2 . . . on the burner.  

Stage 3 . . . still a dream.  At this rate, we will probably be complete right about the time the

 kids start high school.   In spite of this, I thought I would give you guys a peek and an update.

This is  Stage 1  . . . BEFORE.  

This area was a breakfast nook off the back of my kitchen.  Hubby recessed the refrigerator into the space, framed out around it, dry-walled, and created a walk-in pantry.  

This is Stage 1  . . . DURING.

This is a look into  the newly painted, walk-in pantry.   (The fridge is to the left, out of the picture.)  Notice the specs of drywall dust floating in the picture.  Seriously, construction dust is terrible!!

Another DURING . . .

This is the same view as before, but with the shelving installed by my loving hubby.

And, here's the newly formed pantry AFTER . . .

I can't believe how much storage I have now!

This is the window to the backyard within the pantry and  a partial view of the back shelf. 

And, a final shot of the back pantry shelf.

Fabulous, no?!?

I love, love, love it!

So, onto Stage 2.  Wall removal.  Island installation.  Insanity daily.  Fall is coming.  I am feeling like nesting. And, this is what the beginning of Stage 2 looks like.

I need some help!

Or at least some chocolate.

****This links up to the Inspired Room's fall nesting party.

A Few Questions . . .

Question #1:

What is loud, demanding, wet, and sleepy?

Answer:

Ellerie as she cuts all four molars at one time.

Question #2:

What is loud, cranky, mismatched, and sleepy?

Answer:

Annie as she copes with sleep deprivation, and Ellerie cutting all four molars at one time.

I am craving sleep like a person craves a hot fudge sundae, my house is a disaster, and my husband will be gone the better part of this weekend.  

Wish me luck!

Morning Coffee

Awake.

Hot coffee.

Email.

Kiddie wake up.

Mommy wishes she could wake up.

Coffee cold.

Hot coffee . . . again.

Teethbrush.

Hairbrush.

Where's the brush!?!?

Coffee cold.

Hot coffee . . . again.

Clothes on.

Shoes tied.

Backpack packed.

Load up!

Coffee cold.

Hot coffee  . . . finally.

Phone ring.

Diaper change.

Laundry load. 

Grrrrrrrr!

Coffee cold.

I give up.