Random

I don't know what happened or why, but I was a grouchy mom tonight. The day went well, there just weren't any breaks and I was done with the day about 90 minutes early. So here I sit on the couch with the laptop reading blogs and detoxing from my bad mood. Feels good with a fan blowing on me and silence has finally settled in with three sleepy heads snuggled into their pillows. Random thing happened today that I've been kicking myself about since noon. The bay window has been cracked for a year or so now and we finally got it replaced. After three reschedules, they came today to do the work. When it was all done, the guy told me not to touch the caulk for 12 hours (with all three kids at my feet listening in). I repeated and clarified to the little people NOT to touch the windows until tomorrow. Nods of agreement and understanding all around. Happy mama. I signed off and the guy was leaving when I hollered at him to put a little more caulk in one spot that had a gap larger than I would have liked to see. He said it didn't need it, but he would. As he ran to get the caulk gun from his truck, I leaned over to check it out and see if I was just being stupid and stuck my thumb right into the new, beautiful, perfect caulk. Idiot. I was so embarassed when he came back. He attempted to fix it as best he could, but it just can't be fixed. Again, Idiot. Oh well. Such is life. In some weird way, I know it's good for my kids to see me screw up and admit "Mommy made a bad choice" or "Mommy had an accident." So we'll chalk this one up to my stupidity and let it go. (Except that I'll see it everytime I come home for the next 20 years.) Dispite my foul mood today, I have to award ten points for Brian for rocking Jacob to sleep when I gave up and decided to let him cry himself to sleep. Plus ten more points for making homemade french fries for us tonight. I'm in love with Mali for bequeathing her deep fryer to us before she moved. Of course, now I can blame her if I get fat. I'm feeling random tonight.

Still the Same After All These Years

Are you one of those people that is constantly changing or do you stay the same forever? Some people have tried every fashionable haircut, with highlights and full dye jobs. They update their wardrobe with current trends and always look fabulous. Then there is me. I tend toward classic styles (at least that is what I tell myself). I don't see the need for more than one pair of black shoes.My current pair is over ten years old and was purchased at a thrift store. Why waste money on clothes that will be out of style and I'll just have to replace them? Seems silly to me. So, I stick to collared polo plain colored shirts, classic t-shirts, simple button up shirts, all in calm colors like navy that will never be "out". The problem with that, is I may never be "out" but I'm also never "in". I haven't ever dyed my hair because I think I wouldn't be me if I wasn't brunette. Really, I think I'd freak out looking out my eyes into another woman's face in the mirror. I have had two hair styles in my life. The ponytail with occasional curl (and I mean very occasionally) and about three years ago I got my first cut that was above my shoulders since I was in third grade. Not much variety here. I don't give myself enough credit or value myself enough to allow me to do fun, cute and cool things like my friends do. I want to, but can't push myself into cuteness. Though, I did have my sister teach me how to put on makeup about a year ago. We went and bought all new stuff (because the one tube of lipstick I had, I kid you not, I bought in seventh grade and haven't used it up yet, that's 18 years ago...shameful). Bad news. I only stuck to it for about two weeks. Now all skill I may have gained is lost again. Sorry Kristie. And yet, I find myself incredibly happy this way. From time to time I feel ugly, fat and frumpy like every other person on the planet, but overall I'm happy. These random strange thoughts came to mind as I looked at our family pictures tonight. Seriously, I look the exact same as I did eons ago. Case and point: When I was 20 years old I got married. I sent out wedding invitations. One went to an old friend who I couldn't find, but his mom was my old seventh grade spanish teacher and was teaching my little brother at the time. I sent it via him to said friend. The response came back from my spanish teacher that I looked EXACTLY the same as I had in seventh grade. Yuck. When I was getting married at 20, I looked like a 12 year old. Well, yes. I basically look the same. When I looked at my picture tonight, I realize, I look like me. Same old me I have always been. Just a few extra pounds around the waist and on the back side now. Still the same after all these years. Both good and bad. Steady. Boring. Safe. Predictable. Constant. Habitual. Solid. Regular. Reliable. I guess you'll recognize me if you see me on the street someday, so don't forget to smile and say hello. Of course, I may not recognize you. Most people are more exciting and change from time to time. And I think that's healthy. I find it interesting that Brian has the same haircut he has had since birth too, except for a 12 month stint when I met him. He grew it back out to the current style for our wedding pictures and there it remains. We are a match made in heaven. Two peas in a pod. As we would say "we're 'posed to be together." Someday we'll be old and decrepid wearing clothes from the seventh grade, happily oblivious to our plight in life knowing we're still "'posed to be together" and forever in love. It's good to be loved for who you are. He's a good man.

Check Me Out!

Thanks to my tech savy (or time pressed) friend, I now know how to email a post to blogger and have it automatically post online.  Life is sweet.....

Mystery Solved!

Thanks Katy!

Who Are You?

Months ago I put a traffic feed thing-a-majig on my blog. It is always fun to try to figure out who's reading and see how they arrived. One has had me baffled from the start though. Who are you? You are in Phoenix, AZ and usually click through Mike & Katy's blog...I'm stumped.

Tooth #2

Jacob had another tooth just barely poke through yesterday. I can't exactly feel it but I can see it. He's too wiggly for me to feel it since it's right next to the other sharp one and I can't differentiate between them. Anyway, soon Jacob's little pictures will be sporting two front (bottom) teeth. I guess that's probably why he screamed like crazy last night. Poor baby.

Dancing Fool

Jacob has discovered music. That boy's got some rhythm. If he hears music, he starts dancing to the beat. It's like an automatic switch over which he has no control. We love it.

Said a Mother of One to a Mother of Four...

Once upon a time I was at Mali's house with Ben when he was my only little one. He didn't eat much of his lunch and neither did her three girls. She was cleaning up and asked if I wanted her to throw out Ben's food. A conversation ensued about how Mali dumps the plates after a meal and I pack it up and put it in the fridge for later. Just seemed like such a waste to chuck all that food. He had left overs from every single meal and he always ate them within the next day at one meal or another. Mali questioned why I would bother to go to all that work to keep track of it. I was adamant that it was about not wasting and I remember always having to clean my plate at home growing up. I had full intentions to always do it. Why change? It worked for us. And she dumped her girls picked at remnants of lunch in the trash can. Fast forward three or four years. I have three kids now. I never (almost) save anything anymore. It's too nasty and gross for me to want to touch it and repackage it for later. Usually there isn't enough to care about in the first place. The saved food always just went moldy in the fridge anyway with Maddie because I could no longer keep track of it and juggle making a new meal for everyone else. Etc, etc, etc. I have to say I ate my words. Some things aren't worth worrying about in the end. So we waste a piece of bread from each loaf...who cares in the end? I wonder what else the wise, experienced and amazing Mali is right about. Only time will tell. Of course she won't be here to revel in it, not that sweet Mali ever would, but still, she'll miss the show. Last Sunday as I drove home from church and turned off of Roberts onto Zion I got a little bit mad at her. I can't believe they aren't around anymore. It just doesn't register in my head yet. On a typical Sunday morning we both hit that traffic light at the exact same time on our way to church. The light seems to always be in our favor and we fly past them as they wait for the light to turn. This morning I looked for their familar white van out of habit. No one was there and it made me sad. We'll miss them terribly. So to a mother of four (now five) from a mother of one (now three)...Thank You! Our family will miss you guys. You are wonderful friends. I learned a lot from you, Mali. A lot. Good luck on your adventures in Thailand. We're already awaiting your return in two or three years.

It's Not About the Location

Maddie has a nose picking problem. I don't make a big deal of it most the time. Most of the time because I know it is fruitless. She just doesn't care. Today at the pool, I noticed her pick her nose and before I could muster a "STOP!" she put the prize in her mouth. It was already in her mouth when told her not to eat things from her nose anymore. In her purest attempts to obey, she opened her mouth (with a HUGE smile, I might add) and removed the booger from the tip of her tongue and placed it back into her nose. Again, before I could stop her, she said, "Don't worry, Mom. I put it right back!" Ugh. That's completely disgusting. I guess she thought I was upset about the boogers being in the wrong location, not that she was picking and eating them.

Cleaning Up

Today was a decent day. I had a pretty relaxed attitude considering. Maybe I handled it because I didn't have anything else that absolutely had to be done. In any case, I tried to be really efficient and defrost some chicken to cook up for multiple dinners. Being an optimist, I didn't put it in a bowl or anything. I ended up disinfecting my entire fridge from nasty chicken slime and wiping down everything that had been touching the shelves. Later in the evening, I was on the couch feeding Jacob while the big kids got their pajamas on. Brian went to the basement for a few quick seconds. In our absence, Maddie yelled down the stairs that her pull-up was stinky. I asked if it was stinky or wet (she always says stinky the first time and it's never stinky). She said it was just wet. I told her to put it in the diaper pail and put a new one on with her pajamas. Turns out she was wrong. The pull up was stinky. Then so was our carpet, her legs and it was smeared ALL OVER the diaper pail. I was incredibly grateful that Brian was home. He gave her a bath and got her cleaned up. I spent the next 45 minutes disassembling the diaper pail with a screwdriver and cleaning all the nasty, poop filled nooks and crannies. It was awful, but it is done now. It's really, really clean now and the carpets have been scrubbed. Now we just have to wait for the air to clear. Today I'm grateful for the extra patience.

Good News DC

We just heard on the nightly news that DC (along with several other states) is "on track" to come in with a lower murder rate than last year. Is that not the dumbest news report you've ever heard? It's like saying, "Great job DC! If we just keep killing people at the same rate, then we'll hit our goal!" What the heck kind of "goal" is that? No mention that we are still having murders. That people are still dying and that registers with me as a problem. On a related note, during my former life, when I worked in the refinery for a few years, we were always setting goals. Performance goals, reliability goals, environmental goals, safety goals. It would make Brian nuts to hear our "goals" of "x" number of safety incidents or OSHA recordables i.e. 0.8 injuries per 1000 work hours. Shouldn't the goal always be zero? If we're under our goal in August and run the risk of coming short, do we draw straws and the poor guy that drew the short straw has to go find a way to injure himself? That is just plain retarded. Never the less, a non-zero number is always chosen. And we track that goal through the year...stupidity institutionalized and accepted. So, keep up the good work DC!

Life According to a Five Year Old

Ben told me today: "Sometimes I feel like we are a vacuum. Like when we are pretending a spatula is the ground and we suck all the stuff off it with our tongue like a vacuum."

Stealth Stair Climbing

I've really been neglecting to post about all of Jacob's changes. He's growing and changing so quickly. For instance, Brian and I tag team kid duty most mornings. You may interpret that to mean, he stays home from work long enough for me to shower and he gets breakfast moving for the big kiddos. What a good guy. Anyway, Brian had the kids Saturday morning while I jumped in the shower. While I was showering, Brian came in to brush his teeth real quick. The mother hen in me wanted to ask, "Is Jacob in a safe place?" but I refrained. Brian is a smart man. Of course he's safe. Teeth brushing only takes two minutes anyway. After my shower, I went down to the kitchen and received the report from Ben that, "We are a two gate family now." Apparently, in the two minutes it took Brian to brush his teeth Jacob climbed half the staircase and greeted him with a big smile from the landing as he came back down. Now we have the lovely pleasure of having a gate going both up and down the stairs. What a pain in the neck. I can't get anywhere anymore. I'm not casting any stones here. If it hadn't been Brian it would have been me that found little man on the landing. They get fast so unexpectedly!

Here Comes Sharp Tooth

At just past 7 months old, Jacob officially cut his first tooth. He was cranky and nasty for a day, but nothing too bad. Then he was chewing my thumb knuckle as he usually does when I felt something really sharp. Upon further inspection we found his first little tooth. What a cute guy he will be with one lone chomper on the bottom. Can't wait until it shows in his pictures.

Golf Course in the Backyard

Our fun neighbors and swim team friends bequeathed upon my children a plethora of lovely hand me down toys yesterday. The kids were really excited about it too. They have two cute girls, so most of the toys involved pink which made Ben sad. One of the things though was worth a compromise to him. He's been really into golf for a while now. Brian built a quick jig for one of his building projects by nailing a long board to a stubby short one. It sort of resembled a golf club and Ben has been playing with it for months. So the neighbors gave us a "real" golf club (pink plastic and just his size). He was so excited this morning to go find a golf ball in their toys and head outside. In the process of finding the ball, he and Maddie got in a fight. Maddie hit Ben with a baby doll and her accompanying bathtub. Ben hit Maddie with his pink golf club. Both toys were confiscated until after lunch and kids sent to time out. Even without the cool golf club, Ben decided they should still prepare. They went in the backyard to scope out a great golf course for after lunch. After awhile, Ben came in to tell me he had the holes ready to golf. I asked him how he made holes. "Oh. I just dug them in the dirt area," was his reply. My eyebrows raised. We don't have a "dirt area" in our yard. I asked him to clarify to no avail. So I went outside to see what he was talking about. Sure enough. He had dug two holes in the "dirt area." The dirt area being the place where we have been trying to get our grass to grow for two years plus. The place Brian seeded this year so it would fill in. The place that gets great shade most the day. I saw two little holes and two little mounds of dirt on the sides of the holes. I guess I'm grateful today that our ground is sort of hard so the holes weren't too big. Since they were already there, I let it be. I just asked him to not make anymore holes in the "dirt area" because we were trying to get it to be the "grass area."

Random

Don't ever send me shopping when I'm sick. Yesterday, despite my fever, I had to pick up a few things at the store. I had an obligation to sew a quilt and have it ready on Sunday. I had almost finished it on Monday, when I noticed that someone had snipped a hole in the fabric. I thought through a million ways to fix it and in the end, I decided that if I were the girl to get that quilt, I would feel slighted. Who wants a messed up quilt? No one. All week I tried to get to the store with no success. Sick kids and tired mommy prevented any shopping. Now being Saturday, I knew I had no choice. Maddie was also within two diapers of running out completely. While technically we could have just switched to underwear and finished off the potty training process, when faced with the prospect of a quick Wal-Mart run with a fever or shampooing the carpet multiple times a day for the next week with a fever, buying more pull-ups was the obvious choice. When I got home from shopping, I realized how dumb it was to go shopping when I'm sick. My family has had pretty bad dinners, heck, meals all week. French toast, hamburger helper, Wendy's take out, scrambled eggs, hot dogs, etc. Before we left for Kirtland, I totally emptied the fridge. We had nothing left upon our return Sunday night and I hadn't been shopping since. So what did I buy at Wal-Mart while I was out? 2 cartons of ice cream, 2 packages of Oreos, 2 packages of donuts, 10 yogurt cups, cottage cheese, sour cream, hamburger buns, hamburger patties, 4 boxes of Capri Suns (that was actually on the list). And of course, 1 1/2 yards of fabric for the quilt and pull-ups. Still nothing of any use for cooking for my little family. Brian had to pull out some burrito makings from the freezer just to feed us today. He's a good man.

102.3

That's what the thermometer read this morning when I woke up to feed Jacob. I feel horrible. Brian took the kids to the swim meet this morning to watch, then put Jacob down for his nap and took off to the Fairfax Parade. I guess I won't be having any fun this year for Independance Day. I love to watch the fireworks over the Washington Monument, but not this year. Oh well. Maybe next year.

Frogs in the Kitchen

Everything was worked out. Diaper bag was stocked with all the necessities. I was watching a friend’s kids until 12:30 pm. Wake Jacob from his nap at 12:31. Feed him lunch in the highchair. Shoes on all the kids. Out the door. Load them in the car. Drop of my kids at 1:00 pm. On time to my 1:30 pm in Manassas. Like clockwork. Planned and prepared. Ben, Maddie and their friend Ben were catching frogs in the backyard and having a ball. Ben’s mom came to pick him up and off they went. My Ben turned to me and asked if he could catch frogs with his friends in the afternoon. Sure. No problem. He could go ahead and bring his frog catching gear (two nets and a bug cage he got for his birthday last year. I told him to take it in the front yard and have it ready to go. I got the high chair, bib and baby food ready. I turned to head upstairs to go get Jacob out of his crib when my foot knocked into something. I looked down and saw that I had tipped over his big cage onto the kitchen floor and there were dirt clods with grass in them all over the floor. I hollered, “Ben, come clean this up. We don’t ever bring your bug cage inside the house, right? You know that.” As I finished, I saw one of the dirt clods jump. Then another and another. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!” I screamed. He rushed into the kitchen and exclaimed, “Oh NO!!” with panic on his face. He knew exactly what I was so upset about and there was fear on his face. I told him to get the nets FAST. He got both and I caught two that had hopped off generally in the same direction under one net and set it on top of them. Then put the other net on top of the third frog. Okay. Situation under control. I could tell that he was panicked enough. No need to lecture him. Let’s just teach him a lesson now about why we shouldn’t bring frog into the house, let alone three at a time. I told him it was his job to catch the frogs and get them back into the bug cage. I picked up the net and handed it to him. He freaked out. The frog started jumping away again. I grabbed the net and put it down over the frog again. We talked about a plan while the frog waited under the net, fearing for it’s life I’m quite sure. I told him we were going to start on the single frog. He was petrified about the thought of touching them with his hand or even his hand on the outside of the net. I told him to get the net sideways so the frog got caught on the fabric and a myriad of other ideas he could try to catch it. I ended up helping him catch it and told him to dump it himself. He missed. I caught it again. He missed the bug cage a second time and started crying. I helped him deposit the frog from the net into the bug cage and we turned to get the other two frogs under the second net. As I told him we would need to do the same thing again with the second frogs, only faster so the other one didn’t get away, he was scared for me to lift the net. We mentally prepared. Then, I lifted the net. EMPTY. What? They both escaped under the edge of the net. Ugh!! Quick. Find them. We found one and I put the bigger, heavier net over it as Ben yelled, “It’s right there!” NO!! The frog was in the crease between the vinyl flooring and the cupboard about two inches (or one frog jump) from a big hole in the floor. A hole from which I knew a little frog might never return and I would be stuck looking for frogs in my kitchen the rest of my life! NOOO!!! We still haven’t replaced our flooring from our kitchen remodel over a year and a half ago, so the vinyl isn’t sealed and has several holes all over. Yuck. I told Ben to watch the other frog to make sure it didn’t get out from under the other net and I caught the final frog, got it into the bug cage. Then I relieved him of his frog watching duties and caught the final frog, dumped him into the bug cage and banished the bug cage to outside for the rest of eternity. He was happy to oblige. I have to admit that even though I had nasty, squeamish thoughts about having three frogs hopping around my kitchen, I could totally see the humor in the situation. After I got them all in the nets the first time that is. It was not the least bit funny until I had them all caught and felt at least a little bit in control. There was one point where I had to stifle a giggle while I watched Bens first attempts to capture the frogs and dump them in the cage unsuccessfully to keep my “this is a serious lapse of judgment on your part” stern face. It really hit me how funny it all was and what a circus we must look like. I almost lost it too as I dumped the second frog in the bug cage and was grateful I was facing away from Ben. I had to regain my composure and turn around with my serious face so as not to leave any doubt in his mind that we do NOT bring frogs in the house. Still, as I collected the last frog, I couldn’t stop thinking how hilarious the whole situation was and WISHING I had a video camera recording of the entire thing. This is exactly the kind of thing good memories and good stories are made of. I made Ben sweep up all the grass and dirt and dump it. Then I retrieved Jacob from his crib, went straight to the truck and loaded the kids and dropped them off with my sincerest of apologies for leaving a groggy, hungry baby to be cared for. I also clarified before I left that absolutely NO frogs were to find their way into the Hyatt house that day or ever. He was happy to obey after his traumatic adventure. Ahhh…I’m laughing again just reliving our adventure. Everyone knows that motherhood comes with all sorts of surprises. Sometimes those surprises are just slimier than other ones. Maybe I should point out that there are about a million frogs in our yard area right now. The bigger ones are normal sized fatties, but most of them are tiny little ones about the size of a quarter. We had quarter sized frogs in our house. He’s never caught a big one…yet.