Mums the Word

When the kids are sick,  You're in lock down. Not enough puke buckets  to go around. No one can get to the toilet in time even if they're standing right next to it, You hate to yell and make to demands,  but you've got to be kidding me with that shit! Every time you hear your name, you jump up to do damage control, minimizing the radius of projectile things, well, lets face it, that is your main goal. With Lysol wipes you get every surface,  going from one room to the next, the only way to communicate with the outside world  is only via text. The books and toys covering the floor,  seem to go on for miles. The laundry, clean or dirty,  only comes in piles. You're so f*&^%$#  tired,  you cannot stand the light, God please don't let them throw up  in the middle of the night.  Because the thought of stripping one more bed  or wiping up one more mess, is giving you a migraine,  you really must confess. You

These shoes used to be great!  I remember buying them for my oldest, who is now almost eight.  They went with everything, looked cute and were easy to get on and off herself (their true winning feature). Then there was a boy who had no use for them.  Next came twin girls who took turns wearing them into this raggedy state.  Now they are too small and as I'm going through a current cull of all our things, I grab these to put in the give away bag and a sudden sadness snares me. I'm not an overly emotional person so this doesn't happen often but  as I sit with these shoes on my lap I bite my lip and will myself to not cry over THIS. I think of how stressful life is with four kids.  I think of how much they need me and how much time I spend longing for a time when I don't have to wipe anyone's butt. I look forward to them being in school just so I can get a freaking break and you know, use the bathroom without someone sitting on my lap. None of these help me chase away

So I'm torn.  My initial hope for this blog was to be a light hearted, funny take on life with four kids because let's face it, if we didn't laugh, we'd cry....or at least loose the will to live.  So, I'm a bit torn on taking on a real subject.  Life can be too real sometimes and much too serious, blah!  However ultimately, we need to be able to dig deep and address the hard stuff.  I still think it's important to find humor where you can but the more I live, the more difficult I find it to brush off the real subjects. For instance:  Am I a good mom?  Don't answer, it's rhetorical and I don't need you to affirm me.  It's this subject that resonates with all of us:  Am I doing a good job? I chose to be a mom and one that stays at home which means this is my full-time, life defining roll.  Am I giving it my all and where am I falling short?  My list of NEEDS IMPROVEMENT seems to follow me everywhere, but what am I doing about it?  I think we all

Every time I fly I think of my dad.  I remember every apect of traveling with him.  The drive with 'classic' music we would sing along to, unloading at the paking spot where my dad would flag down the driver, as if he didn't see us in the designated pick up spot.  Then he would proceed to talk to everyone on the bus giving them our whole life story.  Funny, people would usually tell us there's.  We would then check in and hit security which was always fun because dad would always be pulled aside and hassled.  We joked that he fit some sort of criminal description.  We totally looked suspicious.  After we boarded the plane he would tell some jokes and familiarize himself with everyone within a 10ft radius and become best friends with the flight staff.  As a benefit, I got to see more cockpits than most children.  When we took off and landed my ears would hurt with the air pressure.  Dad would distract me by talking about our trip and hold my hand. Today I, like so many

Dear young people, I used to be you.  I could stay up all night, drink whatever mixture was put in front of me and wake up the next morning like nothing happened. Well, maybe not like nothing happened but minimal suffering with a possible fuzzy feeling.  And nothing bad enough to detour me from doing it all again the next night.  (Although there was one night I did 7 shots of tequila and I had to take a week off.) Oh and did I eat that entire pizza???  When you're young you can party how you please and it's all good in the morning.  If not, go back to bed and sleep it off. Welcome to adulthood, things are different.  For starters I have four kids, so there is no such thing as sleeping in.  'Sleeping in' is making 6:30 without WWIII breaking out.  Once up there is no going back, just counting the hours until bedtime.  Just staying up late, will cause you to wake up feeling like you have a hangover.  Then add an actual hangover and you're in hell.  It's not q

Kids are funny.  Their minds are learning something new and how to use it every minute.  The younger they are, the more they can take in.  They are so dependent on us, their medial higher power.  Maybe the less control one has, the more likely they are to accept change.  Kids lives are already a whirlwind of transformation.  This world demands they must cope and adapt and because of this, they become better at accepting change. Death is change. When my dad was dying, we explained that 'Poppy was going to heaven'.  The younger kids (who were four and under) took it like any other news.  I could have said, 'It's going to rain today' and had the exact same response.  I didn't want them to miss what I was saying so I explained further that dying is when you go to heaven to be with Jesus and we wouldn't see him for a long time, until it was our turn to go to heaven.  My four year old expressed his dissatisfaction and appealed for that to not happen.  I told him

Today on the Corrie farm we learned about corn, soy bean seeds and planting. The hot topic of the day was GMO's. Scary right?  Things that we don't understand can be.  I may have been a little uneasy with GMO's before my conversation with these farmers.  Luckily they were ready for my questions and possibly majored in bio chemistry with an emphasis in 'I can use big words'. Anyways, for the general public I'm going to break it down for you.  GMO's are genetically modified organisms.  Monks actually came up with this stuff...naturally.  It's when you mix different plant genes to get a certain type of plant, as in one that will be the most viable in it's allocated environment.  This may be a helpful example:  if you plant spicy peppers in your garden right next to lettuce, you may get a salad with a kick.  True story. GMO's have created a Gattaca-like world of plants.  Gattaca is a movie featuring Ethan Hawke and Jude Law (Ooo Law law) about

You new moms are so adorable!  You care about everything, worry about everything and are so easily overwhelmed.  I love it as much as I love that new baby smell. Welcome to the fraternity called Motherhood.  Why not sorority you say?  Oh because in a sorority, freshmen are revered and doted on.  Fraternity's on the other hand, make their freshman earn it! When I think of what you're in for, I smile.  Why? Because all of us sustainers have had to suffer through our 'freshmen year'.  We lure you new pledges in with fun stories of our precious moments and playgroups and then, BAM, you're up all night with a screaming baby and a husband who can't hear a damn thing.  It may or may not be instinct.  You will argue about this. Anyways, unlike seniors in a fraternity, we seasoned moms are here for you.  We will gladly lend a hand, give advice and that much needed pat on the back of encouragement.  No, no, it's not us you need to worry about.  Your new bundle of

So lately there has been a movement to tell moms to be more grateful.  'Treasure every moment!', 'It goes by so fast!', 'You'll wish you could go back when they are older!'  and my personal favorite 'These are the best days of your life.' These people that have such pearls of wisdom for your life don't have enough on their plate.  Are you currently in charge of keeping four small children off the street?  No? Then shut your face!  If someone can see you are in a personal storm and tells you 'These are the best days of your life', that person is an asshole. Here's the truth:  I am grateful.  I have four, beautiful, healthy, fairly happy but headstrong children. Raising them up, teaching them right from wrong and spending all my time with them can be rewarding.  I love them more than anything and I chose this life but here's the thing....it's hard as shit.  I think there is something to be said for living in the moment, I

Crib. Check.  Stroller.  Check. Car seat.  Check.  Swing and/or bouncer. Check. What's next? Here's my list: 1.   Diaper bag .  The bigger the better.  Needs to fit your entire life in it.  Always have a least one change of baby clothes.  The second you step out the front door, they are going to have an up the back blow out.  It's fine.  Also consider the fact that they are only a baby for a little while and if you are going to spend crazy money on this you may want something you can use after the 'baby days'.  I had an OiOi and after four it was destroyed but I highly recommend. 2.  Bedding .  The only thing you really need is fitted sheets.  I said 'sheets', plural.  Get a few.  I recommend getting waterproof flannel crib pads.  They are easy to pull and wash, without having to wash entire fitted sheet.  I also like sleep sacks for babies once they are done with being swaddled. 3.  Blankets and burp cloths ... Can't have enough.  With blanket

I'm watching my three year old twins run through an obstacle course at their gymnastics class.  The teacher is at one station helping them do backwards rolls and so not really paying attention to the rest of the class.  Part of the course includes hanging from a bar across a pit of foam blocks.  A little boy climbs out onto the bar and hangs there.  One of my girls climbs up next to the bar, leans across and peels his fingers back one by one until he screams and plummets into the pit.  Then she throws her head back, laughing hysterically, and cannon balls into the pit on top of him. This isn't the first time I've seen this type of thing.  One day at school a little boy told her not to touch a door.  Poor dear.  She looks him up and down, then walks across to 'the door' and starts rubbing it while flashing him a look that said, 'What this door??? Oh, I'm gonna touch THIS door all day long.  Why?  Because I can see it bothers you.'  The boy proceeds to br

My seven year old loves butterflies so we did what many before us have done.  We got one of those butterfly kits, ordered larvae online and watched them grow.  She actually chose to do this as part of a science project for school and had a lot of fun with it.  We got four butterflies out of the deal which I feel pretty good about since we only started out with six caterpillars.  I believe their names WERE:  Flip, Flutter, Fly and Stacy.  Uh, ya. Little did I know this would go south fast.  Slowly, one by one, they died and my daughter was crushed every single time.  I had no idea the level of love that surrounded these bugs and work hard to bury my cynicism. They have a very short life span!  I try to explain that THIS is the life cycle of a butterfly.  Death is part of their very short life.  I try to comfort her and explained that God only made their bodies to last a week or two.  It's nobodies fault.  That's just the way it is.  They had a good life, I lied as they were ma

It's a beautiful day so I decide to give the twins a pass on their nap since we've kind of been sporadically napping anyways.  They're 3.  I get it.  I'm talking to my sister-in-law overseas while watching the twins play outside through the window.  They have just been warned not to climb onto the tables or back of the deck when...what do I see??: One of them climbing up the back of the deck!!!  Before I can even knock on the window to say 'get down' one twin pushes the other one and they go head over heals off the back.  It's only a 4 foot drop, into rocks!  I'm immediately running and cursing at the same time.  As I jump the deck in my too tight jeans and scoop them up, I'm amazed to find no harm done other than some scratches.  Thank God.  I was expecting a trip to the ER. I decide we ALL need some quiet time and send them both upstairs to take a nap while finishing a few things downstairs, including getting their blankets they peed on the night

I have always been a procrastinator.  In college, I would always wait until the day before a paper/test then cram as much useless knowledge into my brain as humanly possible in an unbelievably short window of time. Why?  Because when you don't really want to do something, you tend to push it down the list until you are forced to deal with it.  Then you do what you have to do and it's over.  In the end you feel a great sense of relief, maybe even accomplishment. Procrastinating as a parent is a bit different.  There's so many things you don't want to do that it's hard to decide which things to ignore.  When you finally defeat your indecisiveness and do what needs to be done, instead of feeling that relief, you have that foreboding sense that you will be doing it again tomorrow and deja vu that you were just doing it yesterday. This is what happens when you ignore the laundry for a day.     One DAY! Where did it all come from?  Ugh! This is why laund

I went to go get my eyebrows waxed the other day and the lady waxing said, 'Would you like me to get your mustache too?' Um, what now?? And I'm instantly mad at all my friends.  What the %$#@?!  Don't let this happen again!  If I have a mustache, you tell me. Have you not heard my off putting tale, The Bearded Lady of Aberdeen?  Yikes.  I was once at a cousins baby shower and her friend had a mustache.  It was not subtle and because I wasn't used to lady mustaches I couldn't help but stare.  I was also not subtle.  Later I had to ask my cousin, 'Does your friend not know she has a mustache?' and my cousin told me she had tried confronting the issue and Mary Mustache did not care.....What?! If you know a girl with a mustache who does not care that she has a mustache, it is time for an intervention.  Just like when I wouldn't stop wearing my corduroy maternity pants, even though it had been a good year since having a baby, and my friends fil

As kids, my sister and I loved to jump on our trampoline.  We would always try to coax my mom into jumping with us.  This was only partially because we loved her and wanted to spend time with her.  Our main reason was because we were/are part evil and knew she would pee her pants, and that shit was funny.  Oh how we would laugh as we double bounced her into incontinence. Never did I think this would come back to get me. Now I'm grown up and have my own kids.  Four children that were born into this world weighing in at 9.8, 9.14, 6.10 and 7.5.  And although they did some damage at the time, I feel I have bounced back rather well.  Little did I know that bitch Karma was just waiting for the right moment to pounce.  Or bounce as it was. Not long ago we went ahead and made the jump into trampoline ownership.  The twins were still a little young at two but we went ahead and made the leap.  Sorry, I can't stop. The kids had been enjoying their new toy for weeks when the giggli

1.  Junk Food.  I'm pretty good.  When I go rogue, it's usually for a good reason. 2.  Caffeine.  Why would I give up the one thing keeping me alive?! 3.  Facebook.  So not only am I a stay at home mom but I'm also going to eliminate my only other form of communication with grown ups and my source of sanity....yeah, no. 4.  Shopping.  I already hate it.  Hell is Walmart with four kids.  Or any other place where I have to look for things.  May as well add my kids to the list as they've just run off.  Oh, there they are pulling bra's off the rack at TJ Max saying, 'Look at these boobies!' 5.  Alcohol.  Strangely, this falls into the food group.  I'm not bad that often and when I am, it's usually for a good reason.  It's medicinal.  As in, my life is giving me a headache and I need something for that.  It's just like Tylenol. 6.  Yelling.  I just tried.  It was the hardest fifteen minutes of my life. 7.  Complaining.  I don't complain.

It's winter and it seems like it's been winter forever.  I get it! We are all over it!  I think my kids have had a cold for three months.  They constantly have different layers of snot on their face, going from dry to wet.  Their hair, no matter what I do, stands straight up in the air unless it's matted to their snotty face.  We are all tired of inside.   Some days, I myself can't be bothered showering or getting out of my 'I give up clothes'.  Why should I expect more of them?  It's hard to be critical when I can't remember if I put deodorant on today.  So, left to their own devices, my children are beginning to resemble drunken hobos.  Why do they insist on non matching layers of clothing?  Layers! My seven year old insisted on wearing a pair of leggings with a hole in the knee yesterday because they were her favorite.... and just when I thought we had a problem, I helped out in her class room.  Oh good, it's not just us. Here are 10 ways in wh

It's another glorious day at 5:45 in the a.m.  I can hear one of my three year old twins declaring they've done a poop in the potty.  Better go affirm them.  With one eye open I tell her, 'well done' and wipe her butt. Not long after the other twin poops and declares that looks like a duck.  Am I actually going to have to look at this?!  Yes.  I must check out everyone's poop and affirm it.  It's in the job description.  And you know what....it does look like a duck.  We say goodbye as we flush that duck down the toilet.  From now on she will check the toilet for ducks. I've flushed; snakes, clouds, goldfish, ducks and every shape under the sun....and affirmed everything their little butts have created. Why?  Because it's our jobs as mom to affirm our kids.  It' doesn't matter what it is.  When they are little, their creations are simple.  Maybe even gross.  But telling them how wonderful you think that 'duck' is, is spoon feedi

1.  Bath time .  I bathed my first child every night.  I mean it aids in relaxation and is so good to keep them on a schedule!  Insert eye roll.  I even used to massage lavender on her entire body........Who is this baby?  The queen of Sheba?!  These days I smell the tops of my kids heads and tell them they can make it another day.  Nothing a baby wipe can't take care of.  Actual bath time is as quick as possible in a conveyor belt of washing, rinsing and drying, all while shouting instructions and accusations.  'Wash your butt!'  'You didn't wash your butt, did you?!' 2.  Food .  I used to care about everything that went into my children's mouth.  Then there was four and I was like 'Yum, Nitrates....sounds like a vitamin.' 3.  Screen time .  I used to criticize parents that would park their children in front of the TV or take little gaming systems with them to dinner.  Dear unknown judged parents, I'm sorry.  Forgive my naivete.  I will sell

If you ask me a question first thing in the morning I'm probably too out of it to think up an appropriate 'give them only what they need' response.  It's pretty much blatant honesty.  Combine that with a child or children that don't understand privacy or boundaries and you'll be explaining your womanly cycle to a five year old boy at 6 A.M.  Then he will turn to your seven year old who will roll their eyes and declare 'they've known about that for ages'.  Obviously!  After that it's no big deal and everyone goes on their happy way.  No harm done and for some reason I think I will never hear about this again.... A few months go by and we start construction on our house.  Our son loves every minute and desperately wants to be part of the action.  He worships the builders and loves when they occasionally included him in their work.  He has a tool belt with real tools and whenever he starts talking with them his voice drops a few octaves.  Adorable,

Dear Victoria, Please stop e-mailing me.  The gig is up.  I have no more secrets to hide, I have stretchy skin and toddlers.  Your e-mails and catalogues are of no need to me because your stuff is not made for real women.  It's made for slutty teenage stick girls, with boobs.  You leave little to the imagination and I doubt you have any secrets at all. After four kids, I want something more than tantalizing underwear.  I want something I can bend over in without 'the ladies' popping out.  Your swim wear is a disaster unless I agree to just lay flat on my back.  Something I'm sure you're advertising.... I don't want to have to go see a waxing Nazi to be able to wear your swim bottoms.  Forget landing strip, I will have to explain where babies come from. Your underwear is skimpy as anything and rarely fits well.  Surprising, considering you need to take out a second mortgage to buy a few bras.  As far as the secret goes:  My husband watched me push four giant

As I pass by another mini van with a another mama I recognize, I do a half smile and wave.  It's the closest we will ever come to having a conversation.  She's probably awesome, I just don't have enough energy for any extracurricular activities/relationships.  It's probably mutual.  The bottom line is our lives revolve around these vehicles and the cargo inside.  'Get in the van!' and 'Get out of the van!'  This spews out of my mouth at high volumes everyday at the designated times.  It is also my personal mantra. Sometimes when everyone else is in the van, I take a moment to make a cup of tea or maybe throw in a load of laundry and contemplate life; possibly how awesome college was and how I didn't appreciate it.  Oh crap, it's been five minutes!  I have to get in the van!  It's only a matter of time before the mutaniny starts.  As I make my approach, I can hear the sounds of children yelling.  I take a deep breath before I open the door. 

A Special Report As part of a field mom study I was taken to some pig farms so I could see where our bacon is coming from, literally. The funny part is I'm a vegetarian.  Blasphemy on a pig farm. So, as an undercover agent I visited these farms a little skeptical about what I would see.  Little did I know I would get hands on, elbow deep, experience.   In the birthing center (Middle Creek Sow Farm), pigs are cared for much as humans are in a hospital.  Maybe not clean to hospital standards but there is a 'shower in, shower out' policy that forged friendships that may last a lifetime.  There's no going back after seeing someone in chest high underwear.  The pigs escape the showering process.  The ones that are birthing are 'confined' in to cells while in labor and to protect them from one another and to stop them rolling over on their young.  There is a bar so that the young can get to the mom and feed and cuddle but the mom cant roll on them.  Ingenious

This is the scene that keeps playing in my head every time I think of leaving the house.  The Sandworm is guarding the door, only instead of the Sandworm it's a foot of snow and negative temps. And so we are all suffering from a very real and acute case of Sandworm Syndrome (see also cabin fever) It's been almost a week of snow days and I'm loosing the will to live.  How do you make 3.5 days feel like a month?  Turn them into snow days with four kids.  We've done almost every craft, watched every movie we own aka everything under the sun since we have Netflix, played elaborate games that incorporate ALL the toys we own and got in numerous fights over who gets to sit in front of the heat vent.  Seriously!  It's my turn!  I have been wearing my slippers for 3 days.  Yesterday, my husband came home from work at 6:45 just as I was trying to get everyone ready for bed.  I stopped to talk to him when I heard my oldest (7) yelling for me.  Apparently the twi

This is what I have in my mind:  It's the scene in the Christmas Story when the little boy drops the bolts he was suppose to be holding for his father and the words come out....'Oh F#$%' Just a slip of the tongue.  Something he heard his dad say.  The sad truth is where they pick this stuff up.  As parents we know.  That is why we are so careful with what we say, what we let the kids watch and who we let them hang out with (uncles excluded: we can only do so much).  So that's why it's so convicting when you are driving down the road and your toddler drops something they were playing with and says, 'Oh Sh%#!' or you are using all your energy to buckle a five point harness and they look up and say 'F&*% this' (exactly what you were thinking!!!).   There's that three seconds where you think, 'Nah, they didn't just say that'. So you ask them to repeat themselves.  You're immediately sorry. You can reprimand big kids but toddle

At this current moment in time, I'm teaching my 5 year old to read using a book called Learn to Read in 100 Easy Lessons.  The premiss is you teach a lesson everyday for 20 minutes and since it's only 20 minutes of fairly easy concepts and repetition it should be 'easy'.  We are on lesson 50 and it is the hardest thing I have ever done!  Imagine teaching Dory from Nemo, who has short term memory loss, combined with Animal from the Muppets.  I'm not even kidding.  It's that bad.    On our last lesson we read a sentence that went something like, 'The goat ate the coat'.  I asked him what we had just read and he looked at me point blank and said, 'I have no idea'.  Cue my head exploding.  What do you mean?! We just read it!!!!  I thought I was patient.  Wrong.  By the end of every lesson, I want to pull my hair out and throw things at the wall.  Very rarely, can I hold it together through the entire lesson without threatening sever consequences or