Mental note...my son can read

    As I am checking Facebook today, I am reminded of the fact that my son can read...He was looking over my shoulder and he says,

Colin "Hey Mommy...go back up.  I want to see the Hell No Kitty."

Oops :)  I guess I need to start being more careful about what I am reading while they are awake.  They are growing up too fast.  And yes, He did in fact say Hell No Kitty, not Hello Kitty.  I praised him for reading it correctly, and moved along quickly to PBS kids.org.  What else is a mother to do??

I may need a new blender...

   Murphy's Law...I wish I could find out who this Murphy guy is, and perhaps kick him in the boy parts...hard. Our Camry started leaking a rainbow of fluids on our garage floor this weekend.  Fabulous, right?  So it is at the repair shop, and that means I get to drive everyone everywhere for the next couple of days.  Yay...Anyway.  So I took Colin to school, swung back by the house, and picked up Mike and Molly.  Now to treck all the way into Perimeter to take Mike to work.

    Molly was strangely quiet considering she had both parents to herself as a captive audience.  I was more than a little concerned.  We were getting close to Mike's work when I finally asked her if she was OK.  Her response, "No mommy, I sick.  My tummy hurts."  Uggghhhh...She is car sick.  It has been several months since we have had a car puking incident.  I reach back into the back seat, grab her dolls and her blanket out of her lap.  "Mommy, I going to throw up..."  Two second warning...well crap.  No bags, no cups, nothing.  I looked over into my husbands lap.  There it sits.  For some reason, when he makes his morning smoothie, he just leaves it in the blender pitcher.  He figures why dirty another cup.  As annoying as I have found this in the past, today I was grateful.  I grab the pitcher out of his hand, and pass it back to our pukey daughter just in time.

   As Molly hurls into the pitcher, we can't stop laughing.  Mike says "You know, I wasn't even done with that..."  I said "Well, you are now."  We continue to laugh, until our poor daughter speaks up from the back seat, "Hey...why are you laughing??  I think I am done."  She hands me the pitcher full of vomit, and I continue to giggle as I hand it to my cringing husband.  "Hey Babe, it is better than puking all over her car seat..." I don't think he agrees.  Maybe I should pick up a new blender for him this afternoon??

   As Molly and I pulled away from Mike's building, she asked me "Hey Mommy, what is that smell?"
I asked her what it smelled like, she said "Throw up..."  I told her she was probably right.  Now to scrub and soak our blender...
 

Lady Molly needs a lady's maid...

    After spending the last couple of weeks catching up with the rest of the world, I have become addicted to Downton Abbey.  I love the costumes, characters, story lines...Well I pretty much just LOVE the show completely.  I have also decided that henceforth, I shall be called Lady Bryan of Sims Drive.  It just has a nice ring to it.  So much better than Mrs. Bryan, which, mind you, I still have trouble answering to.  Even after 6.5 years of marriage.  Along with my new title, I have decided that I may be in need of a lady's maid.  Of course, I would want one like Anna, not O'Brien.  Everyone needs a lady's maid that will help you drag your dead lover back to his room...Of course, apparently my daughter has decided that she needs one as well.  Sadly, I think I am her lady's maid.

   This morning, Molly woke up, and proceeded to call for "Mommy" until I came into her room.  Our conversation went something like this...
Molly "Mommmy, Mommmmmy, Mom, Mommmy, Mommmmmmy!!!!"
Me "Yes Molly, how can I help you?"
Molly (still wrapped up in her blankets like a burrito) "I need a hug..."
Me "Ok, I can do that."  I lean over, put my head on her back, and hug her. "Is this good??"
Molly (eyes still shut tight, under her blankets) "Nooo, tooo tight..."
Me (I hug her slightly less) "Is this better for her ladyship?" (impossible not to pick up the vernacular after watching three episodes yesterday)
Molly "Ummm, yes. I need you to carry me to living room." (eyes still closed, still under the blankets)
Me "Me thinks her lady ship is in need of a lady's maid...I think you should just wait a little longer, wake up a little more, and walk out into the living room yourself."
Molly "awwww....PLEASE!!!"
Me "Yeah...nope, not gonna do it"

   I told Mike on my way out the door to take Colin to school that Her Ladyship requested a ride into the living room.  Something tells me she had to get up and walk even with the cutest pouty face in the world.

Molly's adventure with a massage pillow...

   No worries people, this is a totally "G" rated post.  This morning, Molly found my shoulder massage pillow on the floor.  She turned it on, and stared.  First, she just watched the little things spin around.  She touched them, and laughed, and then the questions started.

Molly "Mommy, what is this?"
Me "Well, it is a pillow that helps Mommy's back feel better."
Molly "How?"
Me "Well, you put it behind you back, and the little things rub your back and make it feel better."
Molly "Ohhhh..." (continues to stare at the pillow)  "Mommy, what is that noise?"
Me "It is the motor that makes the things spin around.  It only makes that noise when it is on."
Molly (continuing to stare at the little pillow.  She picks it up, puts it back on the ground) "So it goes on your back Mommy??"
Me "Yes, it goes behind your back."

   I look over to see Molly sitting on top of the massage pillow and giggling...

Molly "Like this Mommy?  This tickles..."
Me (snickering) "Not exactly, but that might work for relaxation as well..."

   I helped her put the pillow in the chair, and scooted her all the way back so that it was rubbing on her back.  I showed her the correct way to use the pillow.  Of course, I will not be surprised if I return to find her sitting on top of it again :) Kids are hilarious.

"When I grow up..."

   Thursday morning drives are one of my favorite times with my son.  It is just me and the Bear.  A captive audience to each other if you will.  No other distractions, well, outside of that "jack rabbit" that decided to speed up this morning while I was attempting to change lanes.  And yes, "jack rabbit" is the term I have settled on to keep me from saying other inappropriate things in the car.  Seems relatively harmless.  Well this morning, Colin wanted to talk about when he grows up...

Colin "Mommy, when I am 16 years old, I am going to drive a new car."
Me "Really??  Are you going to buy this car?"
Colin "Yeah, it is going to be a small, blue car, and really nice."
Me "I see little dude...So how are you going to buy this car?"
Colin "Well, I will be a grown up, so I can buy whatever I want."
(I see an opportunity for a little teaching...)
Me "Well, you know grown ups have jobs that make it possible for them to buy things like cars.  What kind of job do you want to do when you grow up?  Do you want to be a doctor? A scientist? A fireman? You know, you can even be a nurse like Mommy.  You don't have to be a girl to be a nurse."
Colin "Nah...I just want to be a grown up like Daddy."
Me "You know Daddy has a job, right?"
Colin "Oh...(slight tone of surprise) What does Daddy do?"
Me "Well, he works on computers all day.  He has to make computers do what he needs them to do. That is where he goes everyday."
Colin "Oh, then I want to do that.  I like computers."
Me "Good enough little dude.  You should be able to buy yourself a small, blue car one day with that job."
Colin "OK, can I still live with you Mommy?"
Me "Yeah...No.  Once you have a job and a car, you need to have your own house as well.  You can come a visit as much as you like, but grown up boys have to have their own house."
Colin "Well OK Mommy.  Will you ride in my new car?"
Me "Yep, I will little man.  I would love to ride in your new car."

   Sometimes, I am amazed by his little perception of the world.  Wouldn't it be nice if being a grown up meant that you could buy whatever you wanted?  And I suppose he has been under the impression that Daddy goes to a lot of grown up play dates.  I guess that explains why he thinks I just go to the hospital to talk with my work friends.  If only life were that simple :)

"Exhausted mommy mistaken for homeless person while sleeping in her car"

    I can just see the headline now..."Exhausted mommy mistaken for homeless woman while sleeping in her car."  This is the thought going through my head as I snuggle under my hoodie in the car for a quick nap.  It had been a long Monday morning already.  Mondays are always bad because of my working Saturday and Sunday.  I am a zombie for our morning routine on Mondays, but I made a promise to myself that I would try to remember Colin's show and tell.  Every Monday, he has show and tell, and every Monday, I forget.  So on this sleepy morning, Colin and I Googled things that start with "N", so that we could find a super cool thing to bring.  After looking at the list, and around our house, we decided on a lizard puppet that resembled a Newt.

     In our excitement to finish breakfast, and get out of the house on time, the poor newt was left on the floor of the living room.  Colin begged me to turn around, but then we would be way late for school.  I promised the tearful little guy that I would bring the puppet back up to school so that he could show his friends in class.   Of course, it takes some where around 20 minutes to get to their school, so by the time I got back to our house, it was already 9:40.  Circle time would probably be done before I returned, but I had a mission to complete, despite the fact that my super warm bed was beckoning to me on this cold and rainy day.  I grab the lizard, and hop back into the car.

     I get back to school only to discover that Colin's class is already in Music.  Fabulous...I missed my very small window.  I left the Newt sitting on the counter with a note for the teachers.  I could only hope that they would let him show off his toy after they returned.  I look down at my watch.  10:20 am...I need gas in the SUV, and I have a few errands to run, but I really just want to sleep.  I drive around the corner, and thanks to Kroger points, I score gas for $2.65  a gallon.  I am still exhausted.  I contemplate driving home for a short nap, but the math is simply not in my favor.  It would probably be 10:45 by the time I got back to the house, and I would need to leave by 11:40 to pick up the kids on time.  What to do??  What to do??  And then inspiration hits me.  I do a quick glance around the parking lot at the church where the kids go to school.  Pretty empty, very safe...I look in the car.  I have a soft, fluffy hoodie, and a small jacket of Colin's on the floor board.  I grab the jackets, make a makeshift pillow and blanket, hit recline, and set an alarm.

    I slept hard for that hour.  I was having crazy dreams about my SUV being a monster truck, and rolling over everyone else in the carpool line.  Very odd...And I was more than a little afraid that someone from the church would come out and offer me some "assistance" due to my shabby, mismatched clothing, and my strange choice of nap location.  But instead, I grabbed a quick, refreshing nap, and made the best use of the time I had left before both children were finished with school.  Resourceful?? Yes...Desperate?? Perhaps...But a mommy has to do what a mommy has to do to survive, even is that means sleeping in your vehicle :)

The grass is always greener...

   Earlier today, I was texting with one of my best friends.  We were attempting to make lunch plans for the coming week.

Me  "Ok, lunch on Wednesday sounds good.  Maybe some where on the Square?  12:30? Maybe La Parilla or MPC?"
Amy "Sure, MPC??"
Me "Yummy pizza and salads on the square.  Marietta Pizza Company."
Amy "Sounds awesome."
Me "Yep, and if the weather is nice, we can let the kids play in the Square."
Amy "Roger that.  Can't wait to catch up.  Miss you."
Amy "PS, wanna see me with curly hair..."
Me "When did you get curly hair??"
Amy "Did it myself today :) Bobby pins and time. Poofy"
Me "Very nice...I have curly hair today too...Of course, mine is just laziness and the humidity."

   I always find it ironic how people with curly hair spend time trying to straighten it, and people with straight hair put work in to curl their hair.  The grass is always greener...

D@#$ you, smart phones...

   So, the other day, I picked up Colin from preschool.  I asked him how his day had gone, and he said "Fine."  Probably the answer I can expect for the next 13 years or so.  Of course, then he started chattering away...about Barack Obama.  Seemed odd, but I was willing to listen.

Colin "Hey Mommy, did you know that Barack Obama is 51 years old?"
Me "Ummm, sure, that sounds about right. I guess so."
Colin  "Barack Obama is from the island of Hawaii."
Me "Yep, yes he is little dude."
Colin  "He likes to play basketball, and he has two little girls."
Me "Yes, he does.  Where did you hear all of this?  Did you talk about it in school today?
Colin "Nope...I just know this stuff."
Me "Well, alrighty then."

   As I sit and doubt my own intelligence, I begin to wonder where he heard all of these facts.  I wondered if Mike had been working with him over the weekend.  I asked Mike when he got home later...

Me "So, did you work with Colin on the presidents this weekend?"
Mike "Yeah, a little, why?"
Me "Well I was just curious how he knew how old the president is, where he was from, etc..."
Mike "Not specifically, but even Colin knows how to do this." (Holds up his smart phone, and speaks into it) "How old is Barack Obama?"  The phone responds "51 years old"  (Mike laughs) "He probably just asked it a bunch of questions about Obama over the weekend."
Me "Ahhh, I see.  Now I feel a little better. Of course, I still feel bad for having no idea how old the president actually is."

    I have been out smarted by a smart phone...Holy Cow.  This is such a different world that our kids live in. Who needs an encyclopedia or a history text book??  You can just ask Google or Siri.

yeah...no...you do it Mommy

   So, being a fairly superstitious creature by nature, I am pretty sure I brought this whole afternoon onto myself.  You see, last night, while I was working at the hospital, I was telling some one my stomach virus/Xmas story.  I then promptly followed the story with "So, far, no one else has gotten sick."  Yep, right there, I jinxed myself.  And if that wasn't enough.  I tempted fate that much more by making plans to meet a friend at our favorite Mexican restaurant tonight.  I had just locked in a time to meet up with Tasha when Molly started telling me she didn't feel good.

   Molly hadn't been herself all day yesterday, and she was still just a little "off" all day today.  She just wanted to lay around and nap.  This is not at all like my daughter.  I sensed a disturbance in the Force when she was willing to sit still for more than 20 minutes.  In fact, I told Mike earlier in the day that I thought she might be getting sick.  He was curious what was wrong with our daughter last night.  He called and asked "Who is this kid that looks like Molly, but clearly isn't Molly?"  When I questioned further what he meant, he said "Well, she has been sweet all afternoon, snuggly, giving kisses, and laying on the floor most of the evening."  Hmmm...something must be up.  This does sound odd.

    So, I was not surprised when Molly snuggled with me on the couch all day, and I was not complaining at all, due to the fact that I have what must be my third cold/cough of this very warm winter.  I just kind of assumed she must have the same thing.  She woke early from her nap, and came out to snuggle some more.  She asked for chocolate milk.  Why in the world I thought that was a good idea, I will never know.  Perhaps because she had yet to mention that her tummy hurt like she did almost immediately after the milk.

      I was getting her dressed for our Mexican dinner out.  I had just put on her jeans and socks, and I could already taste the queso dip and margarita.  Well, I could...until Molly spewed her chocolate milk all over me, the carpet, and apparently her brother.  Fabulous...I grabbed a towel and some stain remover.  In the mean time, Molly was saying "ewwww...No, no Abby."  I returned to the living room to find the dog attempting to "clean" the spot on the carpet.  Uggghhhh...I stripped, stripped Molly, and cleaned the carpet.  Time to run the washer for the third time today.  Clothes and towels in the wash, Mommy changed, Molly sitting peacefully naked on the couch.  I sent a quick text to my friend that dinner was off, and started to make dinner for the rest of the family.

    As I stand at the stove, Molly comes in and asks "Whatcha cookin Mommy??" I tell her that I am making spaghetti. She replies, "Oh wow Mommy.  My favorite.  Can I have some?"  My reply..."Yeah...no...maybe some crackers sweet girl."  I can not handle spaghetti and chocolate milk vomit in the same day.  Next thing I know, Colin comes over and announces...
Colin "I have Molly's throw up on my pants and socks..."
Me "Well, just take them off little dude.  Sorry, you must have been hit in the crossfire."
Colin (looking down at his sticky sock) "Yeah...no...Mommy, You take them off.  I don't want to."

   Who can blame the guy?? Strangely enough, Molly seems just fine now.  No fever, no further vomiting, and she wants to eat.  I am grateful, but curious all the same.  Oh no...I am going to go knock on some wood.  Why did I say that she was feeling better out loud??  I may as well have said "quiet" or "slow" at the hospital.  Damn all these superstitions...