Dog days

Some days just aren’t a win.

I took the day off today to hang out with the girls, as our babysitter had some things she needed to do today.

The dog needed shots etc… and today was a good enough day for it.

When I told the kids it was time to go and that we were in a hurry, Caroline changed clothes TWICE from the perfectly acceptable outfit she had on.

Claire put on three different pairs of church shoes, after I requested flip flops or boots anything that can get dirty.

I was hollaring before we even left the house. The usual Get Dressed! Where are your SHOES?! Please stop locking the car door so your sister can get in! BUCKLE YOUR SEAT BELT!

When we arrived, the dog jumped out of the car nicely instead of requiring me to lift him down. I thought my luck must be turning.

I was trying to get the silly dog calm in the waiting room while the kids giggled and bounced on the seats. They squabbled and poked at the dog making him get up and dance too.

Sit King! Girls SIT DOWN. Girls quit taking to King!! King SIT!

The people at the waiting room were amused. One lady offered her thoughts that neither kids nor dog were listening to me.

I didn’t think it was unkind…..because she wasn’t wrong.

Once the vet called us back, it was more of the same – though the kids were both on the floor at one point laying on their backs beside the dog. But the dog at least was halfway listening. So that was an improvement.

I briefly considered leaving the kids to clean cages and just taking the dog. But I figured they might charge me board on them and decided against it.

Once we got home we took time and thoroughly brushed the dog and got gigantic amounts of hair off him (undercoat) and gave him a bath.

Because it was hot, we were sweaty and the hair stuck to us. After the dog bath, the kids needed a kid bath before their lunch and nap.

Now yesterday morning I asked Claire to pick up the clothes she threw on her closet floor. She had been procrastinating and dawdling for 36 hours at this point.

After nap today I insisted. And she resisted.

Finally after piddling around for 3 hours she began to pick up one piece of clothing At. A. Time. And ssslloowwwwly looked over each one.

Skips down the hall singing.

“Mama? This a size 5? ” While holding up a shirt. (The kid can read numbers just fine)

Me: Yes Claire. It is a 5.

Claire: giggles. “Are you surrrreeee???”

Me: Claire!

She then scurried off and deliberately hung that item on the hanger, only to repeat the process with the next thing she picked up.

Gahhhhh.

That is how my day went. All day. When they weren’t balking at helping me they were fighting with each other. It seemed like one of them was screaming and the other crying all day. And if it wasn’t screaming/crying it was plotting and racious laughter.

At the table over dinner tonight I was trying to explain it to Lynn.

He wasn’t getting it. Until Claire piped up “Yeah. Sissy tried to put dog poop on my shirt today”

WHAT? His eyes were big – she had Lynn’s attention now.

Mischievous Claire went on to describe a backyard stick fight (while I was inside the house vacuuming) that turned gross when they stuck their fighting sticks in…you guessed it. Fresh stinky dog poop. Caroline tossed in details from the other room.

The combination of their shameless description with Lynn’s horrified face was too much for my tired nerves. I laughed uncontrollably until I cried and couldn’t breathe.

Finally. He got it. The kids were mean today.

Whew.

They got baths with soap, and have been turned over to their Daddy for tucking in tonight while I take a break.

Little stinkers.

I thought I wanted boys

When we were thinking about children, I was confident we would have boys. I would be a better boy mom, right? Dirt is easier to deal with than drama. And then boys could help Lynn on the farm.

And so I had it decided.

Then we had girls. Pink, glittery, dramatic girls.

Strong minded, strong willed. Smart girls. Girls that put on a tutu to play in the mud. Girls that argue, then brawl, then are once again best friends. Girls that are wild, and loud and messy.

We have play tieras and dressy tieras. Dresses and overalls, barn boots and those plastic dress up heels that girls clomp through the house in.

They pick their noses and carry purses.

We put on our pajamas for movie nights and snuggle and eat unholy amounts of popcorn.

Ordinary things are emphasized. Church is an occasion, and one must dress for it. Holidays are somehow brighter. Shopping is exhausting…but fun. There are glimpses of how in a few years shopping with both girls will really be fun, and still be totally dramatic.

Two sweet girls love on me. Two emotionally needy kids need totally different things, and RIGHT NOW. Feet stomp, eyes roll. Compliments are given.

We have bows, rubber bands and headbands but never can find a hairbrush. We have 10 hairbrushes, so it’s a great mystery.

Accessories are selected for me. Eyebrows are raised in disaproval of my fashion that doesn’t meet their standards.

They love nail polish and makeup and feeling pretty. They love the accomplished feeling they get when they help feed cattle. They want to drive the tractor, but so far are terrible drivers.

We have long and deep talks about feelings. Too soon it will be talks about boys.

Life will never be the same for me and I am so glad for it.

My world needed a little magic. Thank God for girls.

No kids at the grocery store

I went to the store today withOUT the ratbabies. 

It was quiet. It was peaceful. I could read my grocery-list in its entirety and not have to peel a small person off a merchandising display.

It was lovely.

Except
Nobody told me ANY jokes.
Nobody fought over who got to hold my hand.

There was absolutely no one at the store that got so excited about anything (and everything) they literally jumped up and down and screamed with joy.

Nothing embarrassing (but funny) happened. At all.

No one danced by the frozen foods.

There were no fights over the shopping cart.

I got zero hugs, and zero kisses.

It was normal, and boring….and a little bit lonely.
Good golly …. I think I actually missed grocery shopping with my lovely children, and all of their talkative, distracting, messy glory. 

This doesn’t mean taking them to the store in the future won’t eat at what little sanity I have left. 

But part of me will sure be happy they are there. I’m certainly going to work on appreciating what I’ve got.

Have a great week friends. 

The Jessicaland bubble

I live in a bubble. I call it Jessicaland.

Part of it is from my easily-distracted nature. 

Three times in my life (as a child, in my early twenties and again in my thirties) I have been officially diagnosed with ADHD…..I call it “OOOh, look! Squirrel!” 

Once I had kids it got significantly worse.

For example, I was physically present at church Sunday (yesterday)…but I couldn’t tell you what the sermon was about, who is on the prayer list or what songs we sang. (Sorry Preacher. I promise I try.) I CAN tell you Claire took her shoes off three times, kept her eyes open during the prayer, and laid down on the pew once…And it was hot in the sanctuary. I might have taken my shoes off as well.

Because of this sometimes I miss socially important things. 

Like the name of the nice lady I talk to every Sunday (I friended you on Facebook yesterday after church when my husband told me your name)

Like the fact we actually do have classes at our church on Sunday night.(I’ve been a member for 12 years and missed that!)

But anyway. I probably look like I’m snooty. My husband says often my face looks like I’m mad. I promise you I’m neither. 

I’m a decently educated but mush-for-brains working mom trying to make sure I’m kind of holding it all together so my kids learn to act with at least a small level of decorum and a large amount of kindness.

My favorite part of blogging by a long shot is people I see regularly in life but don’t know very well, opening up and sharing their stories with me. 

How a photo I took reminds them of something from their childhood. 

How my kid eating cereal reminds them of raising their kids.

Thank you friends. Thank you for commenting, for sharing your stories and for talking to me. 

Thank you for reaching out and making me part of your real-life community. I love you for it!

Happy Monday evening friends.

My kid ran away today

Claire was by my side while I talked to her teacher about a minor scrap she got into with a classmate today. (I need to teach her to never start a fight she can’t win….JUST KIDDING)

She yelled “get Sissy” and ran out the door. I looked over my shoulder to grab her lunchbox while I walked after her. When I looked back, she was GONE.

Oh, crap.

I looked in big sis’s classroom. No Claire.

What a hassle.

Up and down the hall. No Claire.

I’m going to have to make her hold my hand always.

In the bathroom. No Claire.

This is not good.

Panicking I tried the parking lot. No Claire. (Unless of course she’s already been kidnapped and stuffed in a trunk)

Now my heart is beating in my ears and I’m fixing to cry.

I looked outside again, in each of the rooms, behind the toys she likes to hide behind NO CLAIRE.

Almost in full meltdown/panic mode and…

I hear…”Is this yours?” And I see Carolines teacher holding a reluctant Claire by the hand. She had crowded in with a group of kids and parents and slipped through the door to the playground, and then made it through the playground gate the same way.

So this afternoon I had a minor heart attack, aged 10 years and got twice as many grey hairs as I already have to hide. And Claire got in trouble for running off. (Even though technically she DID tell me where she was going. )

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For some reason I dont think she feels guilty for scaring me to death.

It’s Friday. Do you know where your kids are?

 

Since I’m in the running for mom-of-the-year (sarcasm) I’ve kicked my kids outside while I brown some of our farm raised hamburger (that sounds fancy and might win me back some mom-points) for tacos tonight.

These pitiful neglected children have tons of outdoor toys, a soccer ball I asked Caroline to practice with tonight, a playset/swing and various and sundry other things. Know what they are doing?

Burying Carolines bike in the garden by hand.. and occasionally using their
shoes as shovels.

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Also the are climbing (and breaking limbs off) the cherry tree.

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Don’t fret. The yard is fenced and the gates are locked…so it will take them at least 45 seconds to escape.

Hopefully I can look up from dinner-making at least once a minute or so and they won’t get too far.
Kidding. It actually takes them about 2 minutes to scale the fence…so we are good.

Whatever. I’ve got dinner to cook and it’s nice and quiet in here. So frolic away wild girls, tonight you get baths with SOAP.

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