Poopmaggedon at the playground...

  After school this morning, we met some friends for a playdate on the playground.  Sandra swung through the Wendy's drive thru, and brought chicken nuggets and fries for the kids, and salads for us.  The kids snacked and played while we chatted and ate.  Molly had been off by herself on the playground for a little while.  Lila had been playing with her, but she had returned to graze, leaving Molly by herself, and strangely quiet and still.  I knew that should have been a sign of trouble, but we didn't really realize that anything was wrong until it was too late.  Molly had a cosmetic bag out of Sandra's diaper bag that was full of ointments and such.  She had smeared Monistat all over her face.  At first, we thought this was the primary problem, that was, until we got close enough to be down wind.  Sandra quickly sniffed Jack's butt to make sure it wasn't her's, and sure enough, Molly turned around, and she had poop coming out of the top of her pants.  There was poop everywhere.  I wasn't sure whether I should be disgusted or impressed.  I grabbed her off the playground equipment, and brought her over to the table.  I stripped her from head to toe, and attempted a little disaster containment.  My poor daughter was butt naked, except for her proud smile as I attempted to clean her up. I could have used a garden hose, but there didn't seem to be one of those out on the playground. It took all of the wipes that both mommies had between us, a new pull up, a complete wardrobe change for her, and plenty of hand sanitizer for the adults involved.  We left with her clothes in a kids meal bag, and plans for a bath as soon as we got home.  Sometimes it amazes me completely how much poop can actually come out of those tiny people.  It is definitely time for some serious potty training.  That little girl poops as much as a grown up, so I think she needs to poop where the grown ups do :)

Tanning debate at the gym today...

  So this morning, my friend Sandra and I were discussing our mommy farmer tans while on the elliptical.  Sandra brought up that she might hit a tanning bed to even out her tan.  Our conversation went like this...
S "I think I may have to hit a tanning salon to even out this tan."
H "Really, I am so white at this point, there really isn't any hope."
S "Aren't you Italian ?  You should tan nicely."
H "I am also part Native American, but my mother was pale white with freckles, and blue eyes.  Not much Native American showing up over here."
S "I bet you would tan nicely if you tried.  I need to even this out, and I would feel ridiculous laying out in the back yard.  You know..tanned fat looks better than white fat."
H "Agreed, however, cancerous fat does NOT look better, and more than one person in my pale family has had cancerous lesions removed."
S "So, you are totally against tanning beds??"
H "Let's be honest, I am not anal with the sunscreen like I should be, but I spray my poor translucent kids down with sunscreen all summer long.  I should use more, and I will be self conscious when Missy's wedding comes around due to the strapless dresses, but what can you do??  Besides, tanning beds fall into self maintenance.  I have an inch and half of gray roots, and I haven't had a pedicure in a year.  What makes you think we have time for a tanning bed?"
S "True..."
H "Besides...the sun is free, I refuse to pay for sunlight :)"

PS...I know we shouldn't be able to have that whole conversation while on the elliptical...We should be out of breath and unable to chat.  But today, today was a slow day.  At least we made it to the gym.

Stranger Danger :)

Colin talking to David Luchin this morning...
C "This is Thomas, he is a train"
D "Yes he is"
C "Can I put him in your pocket?" Colin attempts to put the train in his shirt pocket
D "No, that pocket is already occupied."
C "Can I put him in this pocket?" Pointing to his back pocket on his jeans
D "No, I don't think he would fit in there very well either, besides, I think your parents would agree that we should be teaching you not to put things into strange men's pants."

Sleep my friend...you elude me yet again

  Why oh why does it seem that sometimes the world is conspiring against me when I am trying to sleep??  Colin and Molly are experiencing some pretty severe separation anxiety because of my trip.  Colin was already pouting and complaining that I worked too much before I left town for 4 days.  Now I have finally returned, only to head into to work for the next two nights.  The kids are NOT happy, to say the least.  Mike is still on call, and an old college friend of his is visiting from out of town.  Poor Mike is writing scripts, chasing kids, and attempting to show David some of the Atlanta landmarks.  I have been busily catching up on laundry, dishes, and working at the hospital myself.  I did manage to get out of work early last night, but sadly, both children were still awake, and they wanted nothing more than to cuddle with Mommy.  It would have been fine, except it was already 9:30 when I got home.  Colin eventually drifted off after a few extra hugs, and an extra cup of chocolate milk.  Molly...not so much.  She was awake and going strong until 11:30.  She was screaming for Mommy, begging me to come in her room, and simply was not interested in sleep.  I finally caved, went into her room, and climbed into her bed to try and snuggle her to sleep.  This is one of the many advantages of being the height of a small hobbit, I can fit in my daughters toddler bed : )  I do occasionally worry about the weight limit, but sadly, by pulling my legs up slightly, and laying on my side, we both fit pretty well. I was finally able to leave after about 30 minutes of snuggling, but she was still awake.  I sent Mike to go and check and see if she was down around 11pm, and she started fake snoring as he peeked in her door.  Stubborn, stubborn child...
    I climbed into bed, turned on our TV, and proceeded to try and catch up on my DVR'd programs.  I could already tell that the animals were feeling needy as well.  I got up, gave the cat a can of food, and started on my next round of Words with Friends.  At some point close to 1 am, I finally drifted off, only to be awakened by both the cat and the dog.  There is nothing worse than "feeling" a cat stare at you while you are sleeping.  I cracked my eyelids, only to hear our poor old cat's broken meow, and a whine from the dog.  Seriously??  It is 3 am.  I get up, fill their empty water dish, which neither of them even take a drink from, put some food in Abby's bowl, and open yet another can of cat food.  I need some rest.  I climb back into bed, attempt to go back to sleep, only to realize the cat is staring at me from the bedside table again.  I choose to ignore him this time, and roll over.  He starts to knock everything off the table one thing at a time...the cat may die.  I push him down, thrown him down, and pop him on the nose.  While I was at Target before work, the kids picked out water guns from the dollar bin.  I considered filling up the water gun, and soaking him like I used to in the old days.  Of course, the cat isn't the brightest thing around, so he usually ran to me for protection from the "scary water."  I feel horrible because the cat is old, confused, and sick, but a girl needs her sleep.  It is only a matter of hours before my bosses (the little people in the next room) are awake, and demanding their breakfast and chocolate milk.  Sure enough, around 6 am, despite her nearly midnight bedtime, Molly stumbles into our bedroom with "pink wankie."  She climbs into bed, and I pray she falls back to sleep in a few minutes.  She tosses and turns, kicks me in the face, and finally drifts off with her fuzzy hair tickling my nose.  I turn over, clinging to the remaining six inches of "my side" of the bed, and try to go back to sleep.  And then it starts...Birds, lots of birds.  Birds tweeting repetitive calls, right outside our window.  The fact that several birds had chosen to make our hanging baskets a home has been cute...until now.  The water gun is sounding better and better.  Maybe I should just let the hungry cat and dog outside to "play" with the birds.  The two problems could fix themselves. I plug my ears and cover my face with a pillow.  I must have drifted off for a few minutes, but I am awakened in seemingly the only way a toddler knows how.  By whispering, and I use that term loosely, "Mommy, mommy wake up!"  All while poking me in the face, usually trying to pry my eyelids open.  I roll over, dig around for the remote, turn on Nick Jr and say, "Look, its Dora!!"  Molly is briefly mesmerized, but my idea is only effective until Colin comes in as well.  He has attempted to get dressed by himself, and he has both his shorts and underwear on backwards. He says "Mommy, I need help, my pants don't feel right."  I finally cave, and stand up.  My chances of obtaining any further sleep have vanished.  I stumble into the kitchen with a walk that would have made a zombie jealous, and start a large pot of coffee.  At one point, I figured out that I average about two loads of laundry and one load of dishes a day.  Mike...well, he did not.  To give him credit, he had a lot going on.  I was gone for 4.5 days, so I had about nine loads of laundry and at least three loads of dishes waiting for me.  I think I just put the last load in the washer, and I still need to load the dishwasher from yesterday.  A Mommy's work is never done.  I have to leave for work in an hour, but I think I am going to use it to drink another cup of coffee, and watch Dancing With The Stars.  If laundry and dishes can wait for 4 days, what's another couple of hours?  Mike has taken his friend and the kids to the Aquarium.  I can hardly wait to hear how that goes.  I did warn him to take an extra pair of shorts or a pull up if they want to see the dolphin show :)

Here...hold my banana

   So, Colin and Molly both decided to help themselves to bananas for breakfast this morning.  Molly came into our bedroom, where we were still laying in bed, with a banana in hand.  She made a perfect monkey noise several times over, and she climbed up into bed with us.  She insisted on peeling the banana herself, took a few bites, shared a bite with daddy, and handed me the banana.  She said simply "here, hold my banana, I be right back."  I laughed while gripping the half eaten piece of fruit, and wondered how long I would be the "keeper of the banana."  She began climbing through my suitcase, and shouted she had found buried treasure.  I asked her if she was still a monkey, and did she want her banana?  Molly "Nope, I a pirate. Arrrggghhh!  Pirates don't eat bananas.  Now I find treasure..."

I just vacuumed the pink pony...

   No, no, no all of my Atlanta readers.  I did not pick up a side job cleaning the famous "adult club." Within minutes of arriving home from Pensacola, I found Molly putting baby powder all over her pink stuffed pony.  I asked her what she was doing, and she said "now he is a white horse."  Fabulous, Molly is giving her stuffed animals dye jobs.  What next?  She of course put baby powder all over the room.  At least it smells nice in there.  I guess it is similar to the carpet fresh you sprinkle to freshen the room anyway.  I caught her right before she started to lotion the horse up as well.  That could have gotten messy.  I found myself using the attachments to vacuum the strange stuffed animal and all of the other places Molly baptized with powder.
     As soon as I arrived home, I sent Mike out the door for food and beer with friends.  I figured he has earned it after a week alone with the kids.  He has been doing the preschool carpool, taking Colin to tumbling, and handling all of the rest of the kids needs, all while trying to work from home.  Every time I spoke with him while I was in Pensacola, he started to sound progressively more tired.  His conversations frequently included "so, what day are you planning on coming home?"  The children were fed, happy, and they made it to school.  I gave the teachers a "heads up" that daddy would be doing the mommy gig all week.  I told them to expect crazy outfits and hair standing on end, and possibly the wrong school bags.  I told Molly's teacher to bring a hair brush and some rubber bands.  She smiled and assured me she would handle Molly's hair.  Poor Mike...He has no idea how to even begin fixing Molly's hair.  I tried to show him, but I am sure she went in looking like she slept in her hair.  In fact, today Mike walked up to the children's salon up the street so he could get a hair cut, and the children would be entertained as well.  One of the girls offered to fix Molly's hair, and Molly came home with cute little pig tails.  Mike tried to tell me that he had fixed her hair like that, but then he admitted what happened.  I shook my head, and told him "You realize she did that because you took your daughter out in public looking like a hot mess..."  He just shrugged his shoulders, and I laughed.  Oh well, if that is the worst thing that happened while I was gone, he was doing pretty well.  I still have about four loads of laundry, and at least one more load of dishes.  I guess he has yet to master the art of taking care of the children, completing all of the household chores, and getting the kids where they need to go.
    At one point during my stay in Pensacola, I received a text from my friend Sandra.  It simply said "I just saw Abby(our dog) running across the church parking lot with Colin, Molly, and Mike chasing after her...Hilarious."  I was shaking my head, and wondering why in the world he would make his life more difficult by adding the challenge of the dog.  I can barely get us all out the door on time on school days.  I would never add the challenge of bringing our pet as well.  When I asked him why, he said "well she just looked so sad."  My response "Mike, she is a basset hound, she always looks sad...That doesn't mean you have to take her to school with you."   I called again on Thursday to make sure that Colin had made it to tumbling.  All I can hear is chaos and a toilet flushing on the other end of the line.  Mike was flustered to say the least.  I asked "well, how did it go?  Did Colin have fun?  Were you able to keep Molly entertained while he was in class?"  More chaos, child noises and such, another flush, and a "No Molly, don't touch that."  All before he said  "I think Colin had fun, but wow, this is tough.  It is hard to get all of this stuff done and keep Molly entertained and out of trouble."  Huh...I think every mommy should have to leave town suddenly, and just let them see what a day spent in our shoes is really like.  I know Mike appreciates me for all that I do, and that he keeps them on the weekends while I work, but handling it all for a week straight is very different.    It is hard work to get them ready, get them to school, and even planning and attending play dates is work.  My job is never easy.  In fact, I consider my nursing job a break...most of the time :)
    My dad's cardiac cath went well.  The surgeon felt like everything looked exactly the same, and that no further action was needed.  No stints and no balloons :)  Daddy came home after a few hours of recovery.  My 92 y/o grandfather has been moved to a rehab facility with his neck brace.  He was considered stable enough to leave the hospital, but he still has long road to recovery.  He is not a good surgical candidate due to his age and health, but the surgeon said he will likely be in a neck brace for the rest of his life :(  He is incredibly frustrated and uncomfortable to say the least.  It is so difficult to watch him age so quickly over the last two years, but not nearly as difficult as it has been for him I am sure.
    I may have poked fun at Mike earlier in this post, but my husband rocks.  He took this like a champ.  He called me multiple times a day, let the kids talk to me, and kept them posted on when I would be back.  He is sleep deprived and stressed about  the work he still needs to complete, but he was very supportive of my trip. He knew that I needed to be with my father and grandfather. Mike knew I was having a stressful time as well, so I never heard a complaint.  I had flowers and wine waiting for my return, and my fabulous friend Sandra made our family a yummy mexican dinner.  I didn't even have to make dinner for the family when I pulled in from my long drive.  Thanks Sandra, you rock!  Now, back to a snuggle puddle with my babies, and maybe fold a load or two of laundry.  Or maybe just snuggle...:)

woohoo!! My 92 y/o grandpa has the internet...

   So, I am down in Pensacola Florida right now because the older men in my life needed a little attention.  My dad is having a cardiac cath on Thursday afternoon, and my 92 y/o grandfather fell after bowling in his league, and fractured two vertebrae in his neck.  Yes, you read that correctly.  He managed to bowl all his games for the day, and fell on his way to the car.  He is in a neck brace, and absolutely miserable right now. He can't stand to sit still, and he is incredibly stubborn.  I can't imagine where I got it from...Anyway, hopefully he will be released to a rehab facility today or tomorrow.  Of course, he seems to think that he needs to have the surgery that they have already told him he is not a candidate for.  Go figure.  I, of course, know nothing when it comes to medicine, because in his mind, I am still a child sitting on his knee, not a 35 y/o woman, mother, and a nurse. So I am here to visit, comfort, and answer questions when possible.  My daddy failed his cardiac stress test last Thursday, so now he is going in for a cardiac cath tomorrow afternoon.  We will know more about his condition after that procedure.  Until then, I am trying to keep both guys calm, and hoping my husband is at least treading water back home.  I left him attempting to work from home and keep both kids until Friday.  I hope the house is still standing when I get home, and that Mike doesn't head for the hills and put the kids on a plane to Pensacola.    I would have brought them with me, but the hospital is simply no place for a toddler.  Not only is it not fair to the kids, but Molly could have the entire cardiac unit destroyed in a matter of minutes.  In the mean time, someone made a very unsuccessful(thank god) attempt at blowing up the federal building my brother works in, and his father in law was diagnosed with cancer.  These are some of the many reasons I have been MIA on my blog.  So now that all of the drama has been covered, lets talk about my adorable and funny children :)
   Colin has been so adorable over the last few weeks, but he is breaking my heart.  Every time I get ready to go to work, or leave the house, he begs me to stay.  He even told me on Sunday that "you work too many hours, Mommy."  I told him there are many people who would argue that point since I only work 16 hours a week.  I explained to him as I was leaving for Pensacola that my daddy and grandfather were sick, and that they needed me to come and take care of them.  He said "Well...I hope they feel better soon, but you can't go."  I just wanted to cry.  My sweet little man is getting so big, but he still LOVES his Mommy.  Mike reports they both climbed into bed with him last night, and insisted on being on top of him.  I guess they needed some extra snuggles since mommy wasn't around.  Molly woke up around midnight, and started scouting out the whole house, calling for Mommy.  She wouldn't lay back down with him until she was sure I hadn't come home.  My heart kind of hurts just thinking about it, but I know they will be ok.
   Both kids are playing so well together these days.  They chatter back and forth, and play "let's pretend" together all of the time.  I love watching them interact and play together.  Molly is moving forward with the potty training...most days.  Some days, it seems like she doesn't remember anything at all.  I left her in her room for a nap on Monday.  I thought for sure she had finally fallen asleep when it got quiet, but she was NOT asleep.  I went into her room only to discover that she had emptied her laundry hamper, dumped a bottle of sunscreen and a tube of Desitin into the hamper, and I found her finger painting with the mixture.  Fabulous.  Needless to say, that was a hot mess to clean up.  Of course, Monday she also insisted on carrying her baby doll around with a play stethoscope. She calls the stethoscope a "bump bump" and makes it sound like a heart beat.  She managed to drop her doll on the sidewalk, and simply would not rest until the doll had a band aid for her boo boo.  Perhaps I have a little nurse in training.  She is growing up in leaps and bounds. I swear, I had a toddler a couple of weeks ago, and now I have a little girl.  All of the cliches are true.  Don't blink, or you will miss their childhood.  Here are some pictures of the kids playing "let's pretend."  Colin is very into his Angry Birds, and this was a picture of him having a picnic with the birds.

   I have finally recovered from the torture, I mean, training session at the gym.  I did tell Mike that there was a man named Zach at LA Fitness, and that he was very mean to me.  I suggested that he go and beat him up...I guess I will find out when I get back if he listened :)  Until then, I am trying to stay on my diet while on the road and trapped in hospitals, almost impossible, but I am trying.  At least I left the yummy cheesecake from Mike's birthday back in Marietta.

What animal are you today??

  Every day for the last couple of weeks, Molly has been an animal.  No, not her behavior, she pretends to be some type of animal.  This has to be the cutest thing ever.  Especially because she is usually a "baby baby dinosaur," or a "baby baby dolphin."  Whatever she picks, she is a "baby baby" whatever it is.  She imitates the sounds they make, and runs around with her pink wankie draped over her head.  The only issue it has caused was the day she told me she was a "baby baby bird."  I was trying to get her dressed for school, a challenge on a good day, and she told me "birds don't wear clothes Mommy."  Hard to argue with that.  Quick, think fast...you ARE smarter than your almost three year old.  Me "Well, baby bird, you have to put on your feathers before you can go to school."  There, take that little one.  Let me hear a come back to that... Molly "ok mommy, I will wear my feathers."  Success :)  Baby bird/child dressed.  Of course, this morning she told me she was a puppy dog.  Now this is something I can work with.  After patting her on the head, and tickling her ears, she snuggled under my arm and barked.  How adorable is that?  Mike brought me breakfast in bed this morning, because my husband rocks.  Scrambled eggs and toast, yum.  Of course, like a good puppy dog, Molly detected the presence of food.  She sat up, made a puppy noise, stole my fork and began to eat my breakfast.  I told her dogs don't use forks...so she started to eat my breakfast face first.  Perhaps, the almost three year old is smarter than I am...I should have seen that one coming, and I let that cute puppy steal my breakfast.  Oh well, I got a few bites before the pretend dog stole my food.

We may have traumatized a personal trainer...

   If there is something that Sandra and I have in common, we both love to use humor to get us through situations.  This morning, we hit the gym, did our thirty minutes on the elliptical, and then we were supposed to meet Zack, the personal trainer.  Zack was not available at 10 am.  Apparently his client before us was feeling light headed and dizzy.  This does not bode well for us.  We finally just decided that the fates had spared us from the physical assessment, and started to work out without him.  Obviously, it simply wasn't supposed to happen.  Of course, he trots over, reintroduces himself, and asks if we still have enough time.  We decide to go ahead and give it a shot.  The first thing he wants us to do is weigh in.  Not my favorite activity.  My first question, "Ok, but where is this scale, because I need to get naked before I get on.  I want as little added to my total as possible."  After getting off the scale, sadly, fully dressed, I discover that their scale is a lying piece of crap.  Of course, Sandra blew this theory out of the water when she stepped on the scale, and said "no, that is pretty close to what my scale says."  Sandra is no longer my friend after this statement...Off to the desk to figure out body fat percentage and fitness goals.  Another depressing subject.  I discover that my weight loss goal is just 5 lbs under Sandra's weight loss goal.  This would be just fine, except she is four inches taller than I am, so now I start to reconsider.  I drop my goal by ten pounds, and then I finally settle on a number somewhere in between my lowest and my highest goal.  He asked what our fitness goals were. Sandra wants to lose weight and start to live a healthier lifestyle. I may have thrown the guy off his game when I said "well, I would love to make sure that I am not dead at 52, but getting back in a size 6 would be nice as well."  I explained my crappy family cardiac history, and my current hypertension and high cholesterol.  He made a few notes on his page, probably to refresh his memory on CPR before he took us over to the workout area.
   Sandra had to run in and change a diaper for Lila, so I am stuck making small talk with the trainer.  We had confessed that we were nurses earlier when he told us about his previous client.  We offered to help out if needed.  I discovered that even a little discussion of blood and surgery was enough for this guy to lose his color.  Sure, he could bench press me with one arm behind his back, and run laps around me, but I can make him pass out with just a little discussion of c-sections and birth...Achilles heel discovered and mental note made.   If he starts to get too intense, a simple discussion of a 4th degree laceration or emergent c-section should buy me some time.  Now to some weight machines. While we are working out, he lets us know that he was in the "special forces" at some point, and he discusses how they used to make him do this kind of stuff in the military.  Sandra says "yeah...we like to eat doughnuts where we work, which is why we are here."  We start with triceps and upper body.  After only two sets, I actually find myself saying "ouch, I think I sprained my left boob."  Sandra is giggling, and the guy is beginning to get the idea of what he may have taken on.  Sandra's turn, and then we move on to the next machine.  Holy crap, I am pretty sure the muscles he was making us use have never been used before.  We move to a machine used to do "dips."  At least that is what Mike calls them.  That machine could be burned, and sent to hell.  We finish this lovely condensed (due to his previous sick client and our preschool pick up time) workout on the mats working on abs.  He instructed us to lay down, and I responded "finally, an instruction I can follow."  He instructs us to lay on our backs, grab his ankles, and attempt to kick him in the face.  I told him that I usually like to get know a guy a little better before he gives me commands like that. Then he had us lifting our legs off the mat, and just holding them there.  He started counting, and like 10 seconds later he still hadn't gotten to 2.  I figured he was counting on the inside of his head.  Out of no where, he finally says 2.  Sandra says what I was already thinking "are you kidding me? I thought you were just counting to yourself."  I also accidentally kicked him in the chin.  I had dropped my legs, he was coming over to pick them up, and I was already in the process doing it myself.  This equaled a quick tap to his chin with my foot.
   Finally, the sales pitch.  Neither one of us really had any intentions of paying for a personal trainer due to financial constraints, but now we have to listen.  He shows us the numbers, discussing the goals, and how after a year, he could have us in super hero/rock star kind of shape.  Sandra chimes in with "I am looking for less super hero, more side kick."  We explain our lack of cash flow, and tell him we will have to discuss everything with our husbands.  He starts to look deflated.  We promise to get in touch with him on Monday after we discuss with our spouses, and we bolt out the door to pick up our children.  Now we get to see this guy whenever we come into the gym.  I feel bad.  I know that some coaching would definitely improve my workouts and my results, but sadly, it just isn't in the budget for either one of us.  In the mean time, I hope he won't hold it against us, and I hope he doesn't laugh at us as we try to figure out the machines on our own.  As for the rest of this evening, I think I will be taking some ibuprofen with a side of Alleve.  I think I pulled something in my shoulder, and I really do think I sprained my boob.  Wonder how you ice and elevate that??

physical assessment...

   So, Sandra and I have been going to LA Fitness for a couple of months now.  She joined about a month before I did, and she is a much better dieter than I am.  She is seeing incredible progress.  I am feeling a little better, and my pants are fitting a little better, but the scale isn't moving much.  Still at 8 lbs, and sometimes, I am back to 6 lbs.  I hate weigh ins for this reason.  I know I need to get more disciplined with my diet.  Sandra went a little radical with her diet for a few weeks, but she did get the jump start that she wanted.  It is always so much easier to diet once you start to see results.  Maybe I need to try the diet she started with?  In the mean time, we have been doing cardio at the gym, and attempting some of the weight machines.  We both admit we really have no idea what we are doing, but we figure something is better than nothing.  Of course LA Fitness thinks otherwise.  We had two different trainers come up and introduce themselves to us on Wednesday.  Great...here it comes...No, I don't want a personal trainer, primarily for money reasons, but also because I fear that I might kick someone in the uncomfortable boy parts if they yell at me to "come on, you can do 10 more crunches."  I have a feeling that is frowned upon in the gym world, and also, I am pretty sure the very fit personal trainers that are wandering around the gym floor could easily take me.  Of course, I am small, and I don't mind fighting dirty if necessary.  Sadly, I think Sandra is hooked, and wants to see what else we could learn, so she agreed to a "physical assessment" for both of us tomorrow morning.  I don't need a very fit, pretty boy to tell me that my BMI is too high and that I could use some toning and weight loss.  I will be biting my tongue tomorrow morning. But I will humor Sandra because she is my friend. He even instructed us to have a full breakfast because he hasn't had to take anyone to the hospital yet this week.  Great, he thinks he is funny as well. We both asked him "what, coffee with creamer doesn't count as breakfast?"  All I can hope for is a little coaching on how to use the weight machines properly, and maybe a few exercises to help my abs find each other again.  He is going to be sadly disappointed when I turn down a trainer schedule.  Sure, I know some coaching could help with the weight loss.  I know it could, but I don't even pay for the childcare at the gym.  I go when the kids are in school, or I suppose I could go after Mike gets home, but that has yet to happen.  This summer, I will start paying for childcare because the kids will be out of school.  I am hoping to attend a few fitness classes once I start dropping the kids off in the children's area, but I just don't think a trainer is the way to go for me.  In fact, I am just hoping that the guy can handle both mine and Sandra's sarcasm, and that my foot doesn't just slip and kick him in the shin if he gets too condescending or cheerleader like...I will keep you posted.

I just found Play Dough in my cleavage...

   You know, over the years, I have found many things resting nestled in my cleavage, but my, how times have changed.  I just found blue Play Dough stuck down inside the edge of my bra.  Not only did this not phase me, I never even stopped to wonder how such a thing could happen.  I just pulled the offending object out of my bra, and pitched it into the trash.  When I was much younger...you know before puberty hit...I used to wonder why my mother referred to her's as a "snack tray."  I asked her once why she never put a napkin in her lap like she had taught us to do at every meal.  She simply responded by saying "well that would be pointless, nothing ever makes it to me lap."  I finally understand what my mother was speaking of.  In fact, I laughed yesterday at the gym for that very reason.  I had gotten toothpaste on my shirt while brushing my teeth.  I had gotten it all off, or at least I thought I had, until I spotted a smear down at the bottom of my shirt.  I said to Sandra "huh, I never have anything make it that far down..." Now, play dough. I have found many types of food, spitballs in middle school, and even a scalding hot shrimp once in a Japanese steak house, but play dough is a first.  Ahhh, yet another joy of motherhood.  I suppose it could have been much worse.  I did change a poopy pull up earlier.  And perhaps I should consider the neckline I am wearing out for playdates???  Until then, I need to find the rest of that play dough. I am sure it is somewhere it doesn't belong, like my carpet or my couch :)

Night shift rewind...

   Many moons ago, ok, 12 years ago, when I started as a nurse, I started out on night shift.  Most of the time, as new nurse, you have to pay your dues, and work nights for awhile.  The bad news, it plays havoc with your body and circadian rhythms.  The good news, you will make more money.  I stayed on nights for about 6 years.  I was stubborn.  I liked my friends, I liked the money, and I liked the autonomy I had as a nurse.  Eventually, my old friend insomnia caught up with me.  He still comes to visit me occasionally, but much less so now that I am on a relatively normal sleeping schedule.  I have been working evening shift, 3p-11p for those non nursing folk reading out there, since shortly before Mike and I got married in 2006.  I haven't looked back for a minute.  I did not miss the pain of staying up all night.  In fact, I was busy enough with sleepless nights at home due to the children, I certainly didn't need that at work as well.  The last time my old night shift buddies talked me into staying on call until 3 am, I fell down the stairs at home, and broke my left foot, and sprained my right in two places...two weeks before my wedding.  I walked down the aisle in heels thanks to Lortab and mimosas, and I wore an ortho shoe and an air cast for my reception.  I am an incredibly superstitious person, like so many nurses, and I haven't stayed late since that night.  I figured, if I was so tired that I could fall down my own stairs, it couldn't be a healthy thing to do.  Let's just ignore the fact that I am horribly clumsy on a good day, and I risk injury anytime I am moving :)  It seemed like a good excuse to never work night shift again...well, until last night.
    I needed Sunday off pretty badly, and it was becoming a very last minute trade.  My friend Wendy totally stepped up to the plate, and traded the shift with me in the final hours of Saturday night.  The catch...She works 3p-3a, not 3p-11p.  Twelve hours loomed before me as if it were a marathon that I had never trained for.  I have worked 12 hour shifts in recent years, but the daunting part of this was the 3 am end time.  On a good day, I am in my bed in a horizontal position, if not asleep, by 10 pm.  My two shifts on the weekend are sometimes difficult enough for this reason.  But I had a willing person to trade, and morally, I felt the need to make sure my shift was covered.  So, for the first time since 9/2006, I was making a cameo appearance on night shift.
    Monday began like any other Monday, wrestling two toddlers into clothes for school, and hitting the car pool line at the preschool.  I dropped off both children, and I hit the gym with my friend Sandra.  We had a nice cardio/weights workout, and then I headed  back to pick up the kids.  I gave the kids lunch, got them ready and out the door, and started towards the hospital.  I unloaded both children in the parking deck, and started inside.  Mike was meeting me at the hospital around 3 pm to pick up the kids, in the mean time, they had a blast riding the "alligator"(elevator in Molly speak), and following mommy down to the locker room to change.  Mike picked the kids up, and I reported to my station.  I started to get sleepy around 5:30, and I am positive it was simply because I was staying later than normal.  By 9 pm, I was offering supervisors bribes to let me go at 11pm.  In jest...of course.  I made a pot of coffee, and warned my former night shift buddies I was going need help staying awake after 11.  Everyone was so sweet to me.  My team leader asked "do you need to go for a walk, maybe a snack?" as I started to fade at midnight.  I wandered over to my charge nurse, and I warned him that I might need a shock collar to stay awake until 3 am.  Around the time the nausea and exhaustion started to set in, he walked by and said "I am sending you relief at 1."  I told him he was my new best friend.  After the drive home, changing after I got there, etc, I was still not asleep before 2:45.  I am exhausted, and nauseous, possibly from attempting to drink my weight in coffee already this morning.  I have been up since 8:30, but I would hardly call myself awake even right now.  Molly has already dumped out an entire 1 lb bag of pretzels on the couch, and brought me "pink wankie" telling me that "she needs a shower."  I am not sure what the brown substance is all over her blanket, but I am hoping it is her chocolate milk.  The one thing I am sure of...my days of working night shift are over ladies and gentleman.  It will probably be another 6 years before I decide to try that again.  In the mean time, could someone find me a Zofran ODT and some jumper cables.  My tummy can't handle the coffee, and Molly is in rare form already today....

Emergent text...

   So last night, while I was at work, I got the text that I always dread.  The text from the husband that simply says "Call me now please?"  Great....What is happening at home?  The severity of these texts has varied greatly in the past.  When I call back, it can be something as simple as "Molly spilled all of the Splenda on the floor."  And something as severe as "I am on my way to the hospital to see you, Molly may have broken her arm."  I stop what I am doing at work, and try to call him immediately.  No answer...now I am just annoyed.  Why send a text like that, if you aren't going to answer your phone...unless whatever is happening is so severe that he can't answer the phone.  What if someone is hurt, or choking, or bleeding??  What if he can't answer the phone because he is on the phone with 911, and he is afraid to get off the line??  If you are an man reading this, you have started to doubt my sanity.  If you are a woman reading this, you totally understand how my mind has started to jump to these conclusions.  I finally decide, that if he really needed me, he would have called the hospital line to find me, and that I will call back in a few minutes, after I answer the call bell for the patient that is calling out.  Of course this only after I had tried to call him about 10 times...
    Approximately 30 minutes after the emergent text, I finally get a text back, that says "sorry, try calling again.  I can answer now."  Well thank god...now I can finally find out what has been happening.  Conversation went something like this.
Me "What in the world happened, and why didn't you answer the phone?"
Mike "Sorry, I was kind of up to my elbows in poop. "
Me "ahhh, so a literal s#$*storm.  What happened?"
Mike "well...I had them both down for a nap."
Me "OK, then what?"
Mike "Well, I guess Molly pooped in her pull up, and then she decided to clean it up herself.  It did NOT go well.  I found her covered in poop, her bed covered in poop, her clothes covered in poop, and pink wankie covered in poop.  Best I can tell, she took off the pull up, sat down in several places while attempting to wipe herself, which is what I found her doing.  Exactly, what can I put in the washing machine?"
Me "It sounds like you might just need a pressure washer instead...but seriously, get most of the poop off the stuff, spray it with stain treatment, and stick it on the heavy duty cycle."
Mike "can you talk to her, she is very upset about the whole thing."
Me "Ok, put her on."
     As you can imagine, there is no need to try and tell you what Molly had to say about the whole thing.  There was a lot of sniffling, some incoherent speech, mentions of "poop" and "sorry mommy,' and lots of comforting words from mommy that everything was ok.  My friends and co workers at the desk were laughing by this point, and I was just wondering how much of this mess would be left for me to clean up when I got home.  I am grateful that it was nothing more serious than an unfortunate poop situation, and that all of the aftermath seemed to be handled before I got home from work.

Michelle Duggar...I salute you

   Wow, yesterday was a busy day.  I must admit, on many levels, I really didn't know what I was in for.  Yesterday, my friend Sandra was in a quite the bind with childcare.  Her husband had to fly out of town for a family funeral(unexpected occurrence, obviously), but she was scheduled to work.  Her sitter was unavailable until 8 pm, so I volunteered to help out until she could get there.  I can totally relate to childcare dilemmas and to being in a city without family nearby to help.  Mike and I are on our own when it comes to childcare.  We juggle our schedules so that one of us is available while the other is working, which is why I work Saturdays and Sundays almost exclusively.  Sandra and her husband play the same game.  Our kids play together all of the time, so no problems there.  I figured it would be one big playdate.  OK...I knew it would be challenging, but they wore me out :)  Don't get me wrong, I would do it again in a heart beat, but let's just say, I was relieved to only take two of them home with me.  Putting our families together gave me a 1y/o, a 2 y/o, a 3y/o, and a 4y/o.  I can't even imagine what it would be like to actually have four children that close in age.  I salute all of those mommies out there with several children back to back.  I thought I had my hands full with my two being 17 months apart.  Two more children added a whole new level of difficulty.  I have followed the Duggar family with a kind of fascination now for years.  Mike laughs at me and shakes his head whenever he sees me watching their reality show.  That woman is a machine...in so many ways.  I have no idea how they keep that house running, and maintain their sanity and complete faith.  Ok,ok...I know that the older kids help out with the chores, and the younger children, but there was a time when she was doing it by herself.  When there were no teenagers around to keep the household running smoothly.  I can only imagine what it was like around there when they only had 6 or 7 kids.
    So here is how my adventure played out.  I took Colin to tumbling, dropped him off, and joined a friend for a quick lunch with her three girls and Molly still in tow.  After a hectic, but enjoyable lunch, Molly and I head back to the school to pick up Colin.  I had packed the diaper backpack full of tricks to keep my kids entertained and clean.  We headed over to Sandra's place, and we are greeted with chicken parmesan and pasta, and two napping children.  Colin and Molly made themselves at home, and started playing with toys while Sandra showed me what I would need to do.  She sat down for a quick meal before heading out the door, and I sent her on her way with several statements of "we will be fine," "don't worry," and "I have done this before."  Jack decided he didn't need a nap, so I went upstairs to just get him from his room.  I could hear him singing and talking on the monitor, so I figured he could just come down and join the fun.  I apparently surprised the poor guy, and he screamed when I opened his door. I couldn't stop laughing while I was trying to comfort him.  Lila woke up about 30 minutes later, and I had all four kids awake and in action.  I took Colin, Molly, and Jack to the bathroom, and I changed Lila's diaper.  Everyone had a small snack, and I decided to get brave and take the kids outside.  After finding four pairs of shoes, putting them on, and getting them out the door, I started to doubt the sanity of this decision.  Molly was running off, Lila just looked overwhelmed, and the boys were hitting balls off of a t-ball set.  Within a few minutes, we had hit both balls over the fence, and I had no way to retrieve the balls without leaving all four children unattended.  I decided to switch gears, and get the girls involved.  There were bottles of bubbles sitting on the patio table.  I started blowing bubbles, and Molly manages to dump out an entire bottle of bubbles on the patio, and she and Lila are splashing around in the mess.  I decide to bring everyone back inside...After removing four pairs of shoes, I set the kids free in the living room again.  Colin proudly brings me a wad of play dough.  I have no idea where it came from, but now I need to find the rest of it.  After looking around, I gather up what should be most of the play dough.  I stick dinner in the oven, and I turn on Dora the Explorer.  For a few brief moments, all four kids are hypnotized by Nick Jr, but it quickly becomes old news.  Molly and Lila have decided to lock them selves on the wrong side of the baby gate for fun.  I retrieve them at least four times.  Colin and Jack are being typical boys. They are wrestling one minute, sharing toys, then not sharing toys, then bonking someone on the head for taking their toy...Both boys wind up in time out at least twice.  Molly still wants to go up stairs, so like a bull at the rodeo, she manages to take out their baby gate.  Fabulous.  It is a tension gate with a door that swings, and I can't get it back up without some help.  I put it in the coat closet, and spend the rest of the evening running interference at the stairs. The children continue to bring me things, a part to the vacuum cleaner and hair bows mainly, that I have no idea where they are coming from.  I put the items out of reach. I make everyone a plate of food, but no one wants anything I fix.  They finally all agree that they want bananas.  Bananas all the way around.   I did manage to talk them into some pasta and a little yogurt. I look down at my watch and realize it is only 5:30.  I am here until 8. At some point, I look over and see Lila leaning in for a kiss from my son.  We joke about them being boyfriend and girlfriend, so I thought "aww, how cute is that?"  The kiss lasted much longer than a peck, so then I moved to breaking it up. I thought I didn't have to worry about kissing on the couch until the teen years at least. I send Mike a quick text with promises of yummy italian food, and ask if he would head over after work.  I knew he could get the gate back up, and maybe I would have a few minutes to clean up if I had some back up.  Mike joined us around 7 pm.  He got the gate re installed and enjoyed a large plate of chicken parm.  The sitter arrived shortly thereafter.  I felt horrible leaving the house in that state, but picking up is pointless until they are all asleep.  Every mom knows that.  My family of four headed home, we tucked our kids in, and I poured myself a drink.  Mike looked surprised, and asked  "are you having a caffeinated beverage at this hour??"  Me "Yeah, but it is half vodka, so I think I will be fine.  I am going to bed to watch Grey's Anatomy."  I doubt that is the way Michelle Duggar handles a busy day with the kids, but it seemed to work well for me.  At least I waited until the kids were in bed to start drinking...we all survived, they were all fed, and there was no actual blood shed.  Property damage, lost toys, and minor concussions from wrestling and head bonks, perhaps.  Sandra still met me at the gym this morning, so I guess she hasn't disowned me.

How much coffee is left??

   Let me set the stage for you a little before I begin to complain...It is 10:10 AM on a Thursday morning.  I am up with both children, have done a load of dishes, I am working on a load of laundry, and I have made the morning coffee, along with sippy cups and breakfast for the kids.  My sweet husband, who has been up for at least an hour, peacefully reading in bed asks me...
Mike "Hey babe, how much coffee is left??"
Me "Enough that if you bothered to get your lazy a#$ out of bed, you could have a cup...and no, I will not bring you a cup of coffee so that you can continue to lay in bed and read..."
Mike "geez, what's up with you this morning?"
Me "I can't imagine..."

Molly Bear Breaks Free...

  Today, at pick up, I was greeted by Molly's teacher who was shaking her head, but smiling.  The kids had just come in from the playground, and I was waiting for them at the room.  Ms Latrice is laughing as she sees me, and says "this one, this one is a Houdini..."  Me "Who are you telling? What did she do this time?"  Ms Latrice "Well she got out of the locked and latched gate at the playground, and I thought I had lost her until I saw her trotting off towards the parking lot.  Nearly gave me a heart attack."  Me "Yeah, I took them to the children's museum yesterday, and she scared me a few times as well."  Ms Latrice "Well, I thought I was going to have to turn in my resignation...first time I have ever lost one."  Me "If it makes you feel any better, I would have told them it wasn't your fault..."
   Seriously, that girl will be the reason I have a heart attack before I am 45.  She is sneaky and smart, a horrible combination for a parent.  I simply can't wait for the teen years.  I have no idea what to do with her sometimes.  She has a tendency to wander off if she isn't in a stroller, but she has to be out of the stroller for playdates and stuff like the zoo and Children's Museum.  She has no appropriate fear of getting lost.  I have punished with time outs, spankings, and plenty of scolding, but it seems to fall on deaf ears.  I have thought about using a toddler leash, but I am pretty sure she would do exactly what my cat used to do when placed on a leash.  Lay down on the ground, refuse to stand, and become what could only be called a giant dust mop.  She scares me sometimes.  I know it is good for her to be curious, and figure out how things work, but it would be so nice to relax a little when we are out in public.  I am always on full alert until my kids pass out for the night, and back on as soon as they wake up.  Just once, it would be nice not to have to wonder "what is Molly doing now?"  I have been told by my father, that Molly is a tiny little version of me.  Apparently, I was a houdini escape artist and always destroying things as well.  He has told me that my mother is in Heaven, looking down, and laughing her butt off at me.  I suppose Molly may just be proof that karma exists, and that parents really can wish a "child just like you" on their children.  Until then, Molly will keep my hair stylist employed by continuing to cause gray hairs, and assure that my doctor's children have money for college by increasing my blood pressure :)

Reasons I love my workout partner...

Conversation while we are working out on the weight machines...

Sandra "Well, you are looking thinner."

Me "Thanks, down 8 lbs total."

Sandra "You know the best part about losing weight, no more back fat around my bra"

Me "I know, I hate all of this around my belly the most.  I will be happy when it leaves."

Sandra "Yep, you know all of that is from the babies.  I never had that before kids.  I had a little lower pooch, but I hate the great divide.  You know, like the little hangover part over your pants."

Me "I HATE my muffin top.  You are so right, that happened after pregnancy."

Sandra "Damn, now I am hungry for a muffin.  I made some awesome ones last night.  Want the recipe?"

Me "This why we can work out together, you totally get how I think."

For the love of God....

   This morning, I was running late for the preschool drop off.  Common theme with me, but today, I was running a little more behind than normal.  It was the first day back after Spring Break, and we were totally out of our routine.  We load into the car, and start off towards the school.  The kids are chatting back and forth, and I am drinking a Diet Coke.  I didn't even take the time to make coffee.  I think we can all relate to the fact that driving can cause any adult to have a slight case of Tourette's syndrome.  I have tried to watch myself as the children have gotten older, but this morning, a wood chipper truck was determined to stay in front of me, no matter how many times I changed lanes.  The first time, was annoying.  The second time, ticked me off.  The third time, I was wishing for a rocket launcher, and I let out a loud "For the love of God!!"  Colin pipes up from the back seat.  "What did you say Mommy?  What does that mean?"  Me "Well Colin, Mommy was asking God to help her...because she needed him to move that truck."  Colin "Oh, Ok Mommy."  Ahhhh...nice save by the mommy.  I am just glad that I said that, instead of something creative and profane. Those are much more difficult to explain away.  Once again, a reminder that they are always listening to what we say :)

just stinky poopies...

   So I am sitting around, surfing the net, enjoying the quiet...And there, that phrase, right there should have been my clue that something was up.  Colin came running into the kitchen where my computer is, and says
Colin "Mommy, Molly stinks..."
Me  "Ok bud, I will get to it in just a second"
Colin "No Mommy, she really stinks"
As if I didn't get it the first time...
Me "Ok, I will go change her pull up Colin Bear, no problem"
Colin "uh-oh Mommy..."
I turned around to find Molly naked from the waist down, poop down to her knees, and the soiled pull up is no where in sight.  Perhaps I should have gotten up the first time after all...  I found the pull up on the floor of her room, along with the skirt she had had been wearing.  Some how, by the grace of God, the poop was not on the skirt or the carpet.  As I am cleaning her up, I remind her that she is supposed to poop in the frog potty, not her pants any more.   The poop was everywhere.  It was poopmageddon.  As I am using a pile of wipes like a first time father changing a diaper, I finally just say..
Me "Holy Cow, Molly!!"
Molly, with a giggle "No, not cow Mommy, just stinky poopies."

Easter, mommy style...

     So many things change for you once you become a parent.  Holidays are a perfect example.  Mike and I have already spent a few late night Christmas Eves cursing under our breath as we put together the perfect play kitchen, or brand new bikes from Santa Claus.  My advice now is to always pay the extra for assembly if possible. This year, my Sister in law sent us the little people version of the nativity set.  For the first time, I felt like the kids were old enough that we could cover some of the basics of the holiday.  The real reason for the season, shall we say.   I discussed "baby Jesus" and his "mommy and daddy."  And I gave a very brief explanation of the wise men and the animals.  Colin and Molly smiled and nodded, and began to play with the nativity set.  Mike stood over my shoulder, and started to correct my abbreviated version of the Christmas Story.  I shushed him, and said "If you think you can do better, give it a shot.  But I am going with the simple version for right now."  As the Easter holiday approached this year, I began to wonder how I was going to explain everything.  Jesus dying for the sins of the world seems like so much for a tiny person to take in, not to mention the fact that he doesn't stay dead.  And just where in the world does the bunny with eggs really fit in? As a parent, you are left wondering, how much is too much??  And how do I incorporate the religious with the secular parts of the holidays??  There was the man, beaten, dying on the cross for all of us, but don't worry, the Easter bunny will bring lots of chocolate and toys to make it better....So here is how the Bryan Easter weekend actually went down.

    Saturday was the actual Easter egg hunt at the church.  We met up with some of our friends, and the kids had a blast.  We had hotdogs, chips, and candy on the church lawn.  I am very glad that we went, even though it was tempting to skip due to my work schedule on the weekends.  The kids played together, and even hijacked the church golf cart.

   Colin has been asking for a Green Angry Bird for a few weeks now, and I was able to pass it off as a task for the Easter bunny.  I assured him, he would get a green bird from the bunny.  Little did I know this was the Holy Grail of the Angry Birds.  If I had known, I would have ordered it online, and had the stupid thing shipped.  I visited at least 10 stores total on the wild goose chase of locating this bird.  I finally threw in the towel, and picked out two angry space birds(not the birds he wanted, and I am sure he will be happy to tell me they are the wrong birds) but I was at a loss, and it was too close to Easter to get one shipped to the house.  I had found cute, coordinated outfits a few weeks ago.  For the children that is.  I certainly hadn't thought of anything for myself.  Easter outfits, check, angry bird, check(kind of), way too much candy, check, plenty of play dates to entertain the kids, check, and finally, work all weekend, check...After a long shift at the hospital on Saturday night, I came home at midnight, and started to play Easter bunny.  I made up the baskets, stuffed and hid the eggs, and tried to fall asleep as quickly as possible.  The kids woke up early, came into the room to see us, and Molly spotted her first egg.  "ohhhhh, egg mommy! "  Egg opening sounds "ohhhhh, chocolate mommy."  Molly is now on a mission to find more of these wonderful eggs.  I get out of bed, only to realize the dog has opened some of the eggs, and stolen the candy for herself.  I restuff the eggs, and get the children their morning milk.  Molly has decided the best part is unwrapping every chocolate she can find, and tasting it, and then unwrapping yet another candy.  The birds are a big hit, even though the green bird is not present.  I start to get both children ready for church.  After the normal negotiations and wrestling, both children are ready for church.  Mike is in the shower, and we are cutting it close on time.  I hop in the shower next, praying I have enough time to wash my hair and shave my legs.   I have to use Elmo colored foam soap to shave, and I only have a few drops of shampoo left after a shower incident with Molly. But I make the best of what I have, like a good former Girl Scout, and I am out of the shower in just a few minutes.  I search through the closet for something that might fit, and actually look decent.  I grab a skirt and blouse, slip on a cardigan, and leap into a pair of flats while racing around and herding the kids out the door.  Mike has of course been ready for 10 minutes.  My hair is wet.  I pull it back with a head band, and then into a ponytail.  Fabulous...true mommy chic. The outfit was complete when I realized one of the children had wiped their nose on my shoulder.  I grabbed a few wipes, and attempted to remove the mucus from my sweater. We all load into the car, and head to church.  The kids are on a sugar high, and I have a horrible headache due to a lack of Zyrtec D in my medicine cabinet, but we made it out of the house alive and dressed.  The church service was lovely.  Colin and Molly had fun in children's church.  Colin introduced himself to the minister very loudly during the children's sermon.  It was priceless.  We stopped at a restaurant on our way home, grabbed some lunch on the deck, and headed home so that I could leave for work.

   I am sure there was a time in my life when I actually took the time to dry my hair before I left my house, and that I always had shaving cream for my legs.  Especially on Easter Sunday.  That time is just a vague memory for me now.  I know that I have actually purchased new dresses for myself in the past, and probably new shoes to match.  Right now, I am just proud that we all made it to church, on time, and the children looked adorable.  I am happy that the kids loved their baskets, but that we seemed to include both the bunny and church in our busy day.   I am happy that every time I clock in at the hospital, I get to experience new life and birth, and be reminded of the miracles that happen every day.  I wish we had made time for a quick family photo, but I have to confess, it slipped my mind with all of the other chaos going on during the day.  I suppose we could all get dressed up again, and we can stage a photo shoot at another time.  For now, I am off to bed.  Back to the preschool car pool line in the morning, and back to the gym to burn off some of this candy.  Why did I buy so much candy???  And maybe I should stop by the store for some shaving cream and shampoo...although, the Elmo soap worked pretty well :)

Did someone slip a mickey into my coffee, or is this batch defective?

   If someone runs across my motivation or energy laying around, please send it back my way.  I am having trouble getting moving this morning.  I was doing well all week.  We were having a delightful "staycation" on the kid's Spring Break, but I think it may have broken me :)  We have stayed quite busy, until the last two days.  Yesterday, we stayed in because mommy had to go into work at 2 pm, and I couldn't get motivated to start and finish an activity before I had to leave.  Now today, there doesn't seem to be enough coffee. Last night was a busy night.  I think that I participated in at least 5 deliveries in 8 hrs.  The hospital has already called asking for help, and I am actually grateful that I have no childcare. I am hoping for a moment of inspiration, but I might have to actually leave the computer keyboard for that to happen.  We are headed to Monkey Joes in a few minutes, and I haven't even told the children.  If I tell them, and then we never make it there, I will never hear the end of it.  Of course, the thought of some place like that, on spring break, and no other adult friends to go with me, kind of makes my head hurt.  I suppose I will just have to take one for the team today.  God knows, I need to get the kids out and let them burn off some energy.  A bored, cooped up Molly can be a very BIG problem.  Now, for one more cup of coffee, and off I go for some jump house fun.

PS  Down 8 lbs total :)  Still isn't much, but the scale is finally moving in the right direction.  Hopefully I will reach my first goal of 10 lbs in the next two weeks.  I need to get back to the gym.  The flu threw off our whole gym schedule, so hopefully, Sandra and I will be able to start fresh on Monday

Does anyone else know how to count in Chinese??

   While I salute and applaud my husband's efforts at teaching our children, he has recently left me in the awkward position of feeling a bit inadequate as a parent.  Thanks to an "app" he has been teaching the children to count in Chinese.  While I am fully competent at counting in English, and fairly competent at counting in Spanish(studied in school and years of counting while pushing with Spanish speaking patients), I don't have a clue how to count in Chinese.  I was perfectly satisfied with the fact that our children were counting to 100 in English.  Little did I know, Mike was going to sneak an additional language in on the weekends.  Talk about feeling like an idiot.  Colin asked me in the car yesterday to count to 10 in Chinese with him.  I told him I didn't know how.  He seemed surprised...and then said he would teach me.  Of course, I have no idea if what he was saying was actually Chinese, or perhaps it was simply "Colinese."  I suppose I need to get an "app" for this as well.  Until then, I have put "watch Ni Hao Kai Lan" on our afternoon agenda for today.  Maybe I can learn a few pointers, so that I don't feel like my four year old is smarter than I am...I also have to laugh at the irony of Mike feeling like so many people here in East Cobb are snobby and pretentious, and that we don't fit in, and he is busy making sure our four year old has a diversified language experience before he gets to PreK.

P.S. Please note, I am not only proud of my son for learning another language, I love the fact that Mike is willing to take the time to teach his children new, interesting things.

finger painting with yogurt...an unplanned family activity

   Yesterday, I decided to shop for the perfect birthday outfit for the princess of destruction.  I was surfing the net, checking my favorite children's clothes sites, hoping for something to speak to me.  Colin was playing "Space Birds" and Molly was watching some PBS.  I had that false sense of security that they were both occupied.  Molly came into the kitchen, with a step stool in hand, opened the refrigerator, pulled out a yogurt, got a spoon, and handed all of these items to me with a simple "open please?"  I opened the yogurt, and handed it back with out a worry in my mind.  Molly is fabulous with a spoon.  She makes less mess than her older brother, and I am almost positive it is because she respects that food is yummy, and shouldn't be wasted. Off she toddles on her mission, and I am back to bouncing between Gymboree and Etsy, wondering if someone would have enough time to custom make a third birthday outfit, and get it shipped to me.  I finally decide on the birthday girl outfit that Gymboree had available, click it into my shopping cart, and enter all of the needed payment information.  I go from the computer to the coffee pot, and then finally into the living room.  As  I look around, I sigh and shake my head.  I wish I had thought to take a picture for this post.  Molly had decided to have a little arts and crafts session while I was busy planning her wardrobe.  She was covered in yogurt from head to toe.  The TV was smeared with a finger painting session that would have made Van Gogh proud.  I found yogurt in every corner of my living room.  I even found yogurt matted in the dog's fur.  As usual, Molly had attempted to engage the dog as her partner in crime.  Those two work together frequently.  Abby knows where her bread is buttered, and sticks close when there is food involved.  Abby has even pulled a box of pizza off the counter, and I have found the two of them splitting the pizza while sitting on the kitchen floor together.  The plan works in her favor, until she is covered in cheese dip or yogurt.  Then she just comes to me with her basset hound eyes, and looks at me as if to say "do you see what your puppy did to me now??"  Once again, I am reminded of how she earned her nick name.  After a long 8 hour shift at the hospital last night, Mike greeted me at the door, and told me we were out of garlic and onion powder.  I simply said "Ok, I will pick some up the next time I am at Publix."  Mike "Don't you want to know why?" Me "nope, I am going to bed."  This morning, I noticed Molly's "wankie(her word for blankie)" reeks of garlic and onions.  Perhaps I will ask for the whole story this evening. Until then, hopefully I will be able to get wankie away long enough for a quick trip through the spin cycle

Did a bird explode, or is this some kind of pollen in the air??

   Apparently, everyone else in Atlanta had the same idea we did today.  The Zoo was packed.  It was spring break for the Atlanta area, and I had warned Sandra that the place would be beyond crowded, but we decided to give it a shot anyway.  We figured, what did we have to lose?  We have season passes.  If it was a horrible experience, we could leave, and come again on another day.  So off my crew goes out the door, like a herd of turtles, with a picnic lunch in hand, and my double jogger in the trunk.  I knew parking would be a nightmare, and sure enough, the kids and I wound up parking on the street a few blocks away from the entrance to the zoo.  I am already sweating by the time I reach the front gates where I needed to stop and renew my yearly pass.  I walk up to the desk, and the nice lady tries to "upsell" me to the family pass where I can add on my nanny.  I politely decline with a giggle, and explain, "that won't be necessary. I am the maid, the nanny, and the cook.  All for the price of one."  Off we go to meet our friends at the flamingos.  After meeting up with our cohorts, we are off for animal adventures.

    The first animal we come to...a giant Peep, passing out candy :)  This place was hot bed of sugar today.  Free Peeps every where you turned.  It was like heaven...until you remember what that much sugar does to hot, fussy toddlers.   We hit the play ground first this time.  Not usually my plan of attack, but it seemed like a good idea today.  The zoo was so busy, you could barely get up to the exhibits to see the animals.  As we are walking to the playground, we are passing through a sea of feathery fluff floating in the air.  I ask Sandra what it could possibly be, and she says "I don't know, maybe some kind of pollen??" Me "Either that, or a bird may have exploded..."  With that, we both start laughing, and proceed to snort in some of the strange substance.  We set the children free into the playground, and begin the game of trying to keep up with your child at least visually.  I dressed Colin in orange and Molly in purple, just so that I could see them.  If only four other mothers had not had the same idea...Everything is going smoothly until Molly decides not to let another little girl have a turn on something.  I tell her no, and make her wait her turn.  Molly head butts my crotch in anger...I get down on her level, so that she can see and hear me(actually, it's so I can whisper threats, and no one gives me dirty looks) and tell her "Molly, no!"  She proceeds to head butt me in the "lady parts" again, and then, here's the real kicker, she actually bit me on the crotch.  I let out a high pitched "yipe" to keep from cursing loudly on the play ground.  Four bored mothers surfing on their i-phones look up in horror.  Me "She certainly did NOT just bite me..." and I put my daughter in a time out...after I popped her hand.  Shock...pure shock.  She has bitten her brother before, but this is a first.  And the unfortunate location is simply because that is at her height.  But wow. I walk over, and tell Sandra what just happened.  Her response "well that is going in the blog."  No kidding :)

   Outside of the unfortunate biting incident, the possible bird explosion, and the mass quantities of sugar, the zoo trip was pretty entertaining.  The kids had fun, played for a few hours in the heat, and Colin and Lila shared a first kiss :)  Brian may never let Colin come over to play with Jack again...but it is such a cute picture.  They are so sweet together, and Colin told Mike that "Lila is his girl" tonight when he saw this pic on my facebook page.

     We finished the day with an awesome play date on the square sharing pizza with our friends and climbing all over the train play ground.  The grand finale, ice cream :)  This was sugar filled day, but I guess that is what spring break is about.  Now if only the sugar high will wear off, so that mommy can have a glass of wine while the kids sleep.  All of that fun is enough to wear a mommy out...

Please don't call DFCS, he is just eating his vegetables...

   If you hear screaming and crying at dinner time all over Marietta, it is because Colin is trying to eat veggies every night for one week.  I am not torturing my son, despite what it may sound like in the process. I have my doubts about this mission.  He has agreed to eat veggies every night for seven days.  In return for this behavior, he gets a "green bird."  No, not a parakeet, but a stuffed Angry Bird.  He has five birds already, and now he wants yet another one.  Last night, we started out strong with corn.  After a few bites, he started to panic, and gag.  After tons of coaching and cheering, he managed to choke down a few tiny bites of corn.  He cried, he screamed, and he wailed.  All over some corn...the sweetest, most benign veggie I could think of.  The kid is picky...He has horrible texture issues with food.  He hates having his teeth brushed for the same reason.  His mouth is just very sensitive.  He has had eating issues since his very first day.  Now that we can negotiate with him, we have managed to expand his palate to include a few more things, but it is difficult to get him to eat anything on a good day.  He would prefer to drink his calories.  Protein comes from dairy.  Milk, yogurt, and cheese.  He will eat hot dogs, but only one kind.  He loves carbs, crackers, pancakes(no syrup, of course), and he will eat grapes, bananas, and oranges.  Outside of bribery and what seems to be torture, I am at a loss.  I remember sitting at the dinner table at home while my mother tried to force me to eat tomatoes.  Even the sight of a stewed tomato still makes me gag.  I don't like fruit in general, due to texture issues myself, but I will eat several vegetables, and I will at least eat meat.  Every day, I hope he will just grow out of some of the picky issues, but my heart hurts for him as he gags and chokes.  I know I have to continue to press on.  It is hard to watch, but it is necessary.  I have no idea what else to do, except continue to expose him to different textures, and just hope it gets better with age.  I sneak vegetables in with juice, and a few other products like veggie chips.  I continue to offer fruits and veggies, and I supplement with children's vitamins and Carnation Instant Breakfast in his milk.  If anyone has any brilliant ideas, please feel free to share them with me.  I am always open to new ideas.  In the mean time, please don't call DFCS...he is just eating his veggies.

Just another Monday...

   Molly still seems to amaze me on a daily basis.  That child just never stops.  She makes the Energizer bunny look slow in comparison.  Not to mention the path of destruction she leaves in her wake.  Today, we met friends at a park for a play date.  Today was the first day of Spring Break, and despite the fact that I normally have to pry my children out of bed at 8 am for school, they were wide awake with bells on at 7 am.  I, however, was not...I started a pot of coffee, and sent out texts to mommy friends requesting a play date to help maintain my sanity.  Luckily, I received some quick replies for a picnic lunch at a park nearby.  The park has yet another kind of  merry go round, or "the spinning wheel of death" as I like to call it.  See the above photo.  Of course, the kids love the thing, but I am a little gun shy after the projectile pizza vomiting incident a few weeks ago.  Sandra was kind enough to push Jack and Molly for a few rounds before we sat down to eat.  At least we got the play/eat order correct this time, so no clean up today.

   Next comes lunch, and then, feeding the ducks and geese.  Of course, Molly just wants to skip lunch, and give the ducks and geese her sandwich.  Highly unusual that she is willing to share food at all, but she wants to do anything right now that gives her the opportunity to tell her mother "No!"  Mommy wants her to eat, so she wants to play with sticks at the pond.  All in total, we have 7 children 4 and under with us, and 4 adults. Should be decent odds, right??  Well, not with Molly around.  She was determined to wander off during the entire meal, so I decided to let her.  Well, as long as I could see her and get to her relatively easily.  Of course, none of us remembered food for the over fed ducks, but I figured we would cross that bridge when we came to it.  Through out the conversation and meal, I would ask, "wait, where is Molly?"  and then one of us would spot her.  First she made a few friends down by the water, and then the next time I looked, she had what appeared to be half a loaf of french bread.  Fabulous.  Sandra "Where did she get the loaf of bread?"  Me "I have no idea... maybe she jacked those girls for their bread?"  Off I go to find out where the bread came from.  Luckily, the man with the other girls had given it to her, and she had not  forcibly taken the loaf.  Sigh of relief from this mommy, well, except, I don't know this man, or where his bread came from.  Oh well. Back to chasing Molly all around the pond.  The child needs to eat.  She is angry and fussy, and I am positive some of it could be caused by low blood sugar at this point.  She is simply not on board with eating anything.  We all take a quick walk around the pond while the mommies plan the rest of the week's adventures of egg hunts, play dates, and zoo adventures.  Now back to the play ground for a last minute swing, and finally off to our respective cars.  Wait...where is my car?  It's a small parking lot, and I don't see it anywhere.  After a few panicked deep breaths, I finally locate my car behind a city bus...that is parked way too close to me.  I put both children in the car on the same side, and climb over to buckle Molly into her seat.  Huge pet peeve...just makes me want to "door" the crap out of whoever blocks me in, but I think the bus would win that fight.
   Between Molly playing right next to the water, pegging geese on the head with stale bread, and Jack climbing trees hanging over the pond, we had an eventful morning.  Molly fell asleep on the way home, and continued to nap(yay! for me).  I stripped her as soon as she woke up from the nap due to an unfortunate juice box incident before she fell asleep.  She has been streaking around here in nothing but her "farmer's tan" sunburn and a smile for over an hour now.  She struck fear in my heart with her excited statement of "mommy, I pooped!!"  I wandered around the house frantically looking for the poop, until I realized it was in the potty :)  First time for number 2 in the potty.  Yay for Molly and Mommy!!  Perhaps we are finally getting somewhere with this potty training thing.  We might have to join a nudist colony...but progress is progress.  If only I could convince her to keep her clothes on...

PS  I discovered another air conditioner vent stuffed full of what appeared to be an entire roll of toilet paper...I can only hope it wasn't used to cover up another unfortunate pooping incident.  I guess time will tell now that the AC is on and running.