Goal Setting.

It appears that at the young ages they are, my kids understand the importance of goals.  (Something that I still don't quite get the importance of at my age.)

They all have some goals they are trying to achieve, but it seems that they are all contradictory to the goals I have.

luC
luC's goal--To see how much food she can shove into her mouth at one time.
my goal--To keep luC from gagging and choking every time she eats.

luC's goal--To take off her diaper every single time she goes down for a nap or bedtime.
my goal--To not have to wash sheets every day.

luC's goal--To see how hard she can squeeze cC.
my goal--To keep cC in one piece.

luC's goal--To see if she can set the world record for loudest scream.
my goal--To keep my hearing until I'm in my 90s.

jC
jC's goal--To stay awake, all the time.
my goal--To have a well rested child.

jC's goal--To put up a fight about everything, even if it's something he actually wants to do.
my goal--To do fun things with my kids even if they aren't cooperating.

jC's goal--To make luC miserable.
my goal--To keep each of my children happy.

cC
cC's goal--(just like his older brother) To stay awake, all the time.
my goal--To have a well rested baby so as to have a well rested me.

cC's goal--To crawl around the kitchen floor getting his footed sleepers dirty, proving that the floor isn't as clean as I thought it was.
my goal--To keep cC out of footed sleepers when he's crawling around so that I don't see how dirty my kitchen floor actually is.

cC's goal--To get into everything he can possibly get to.
my goal--To try to keep up with keeping the house baby proofed.

My husband doesn't like to be left out of anything.  So he has taken it upon himself to also set some goals that are contradictory to mine.

juC
juC's goal--To never replace the toilet paper on the holder.
my goal--To not be the only one replacing the toilet paper on the holder.

juC's goal--To avoid doing the dishes at all costs.
my goal--To avoid doing the dishes at all costs.

juC's goal--To see if he is capable of completely tuning out a crying baby 24 hours a day.
my goal--To be sane.

The Ugly Truth

 This has become our kitchen more often than not.  Why is it so impossible to keep the kitchen clean?  It gets to the point that it is so much that I don't even want to deal with it.  So I don't.  That's kind of the way the rest of our house has gotten as well.  It's too overwhelming so I do nothing.  The last couple of months of my pregnancy with cC, I somehow found an enormous amount of energy to get some major cleaning and organizing done in our house.  So maybe the answer to this problem is to have another baby already?

hahahahaaaahahaaahaha.


Today I needed to go to Target for diapers.  What I got was yet another dose of reality that jC would be starting kindergarten soon and that it depresses me immensely.  He saw the backpacks and lunch boxes and wanted to pick his out.  He was excited, I was holding back tears.

I know a lot of people think that all day kindergarten is better than anything, EVER.  I am not one of those people.  jC has school from 8:20 to 3:35.  (That's not including travel time if he takes the bus)  Am I really one of the few people in this world that feel like my 5 year old being away from home almost as long as my 35 year old husband during the day is not even close to normal??  The thought alone makes me want to puke.  Don't get me wrong, I think school will be great for him, and I look forward to slightly more peace for a portion of the day.  But 4 hours or so would be plenty!  School starts September 4, and in my personal opinion, that day is coming way too soon.

hahahahahahaaahahaa.
(Sorry, still laughing about the having another baby now comment.)

Penny For Your Thoughts?

luC is the worst, THE WORST, about putting everything in her mouth.  It drives me absolutely crazy.  And it caught me off guard, because aside from the typical baby phase jC went through doing it, it was something he never did.  After I realized luC wasn't growing out of that phase, I came to appreciate jC's desire not to do that even more.

That's why a couple of weeks ago when I noticed jC had found some change and taken it into his room for quiet time I didn't think I needed to worry.  I did have a brief moment of "Not a chance you're playing with that in your room behind a closed door." but then I thought "Give the boy some freedom.  He doesn't put things in his mouth and he likes to count it."

So there I was, enjoying the peace and quiet rarely found in our house on a Sunday afternoon.  (Shout out to quiet/nap time.)  Then I heard jC's door open and him frantically call, "Mooom?"  The poor boy looked scared out of his mind and he told me...a penny went down his throat!  I hate the feeling of panic I get in moments like this.  He seemed ok, but was saying his throat hurt, which made me worry it was stuck in there.  In an effort to lighten the mood, I briefly explained to him how the penny would eventually escape.  Nothing lightens a possible medical emergency like poop talk.

After fetching juC from his nap, and further examination (and a google search from juC about kids swallowing pennies), it appeared the penny had found a temporary resting place in jC's stomach.

Shortly after, jC and I were resting on the couch while he enjoyed his favorite activity of watching me play Candy Crush.  He informed me that after I was finished with the game, he'd go to the bathroom, but he sounded concerned.

"Will the money be in my pee?"

I'm just going to keep trying to find the humor in that question, instead of thinking about what could have happened if it had gotten lodged in his throat and he couldn't breath while I thought he was quietly playing in his room.
Being a mom is too scary!

Allow Me To Reintroduce Ourselves

You may have noticed the effort I have made the last few weeks to actually blog.

I thought this would be a good time to reintroduce ourselves.

First, there is my husband, juC.  He is half way through his 30s (poor thing) and works at a job as an employee doing work.  In his free time, he enjoys reading really long books about secret spies in the government, stalking people on facebook (I'm going to get in trouble for that one, but how can you be mad at someone for telling the truth??), and driving me crazy.  He is really good at making breakfast for dinner, grocery shopping, and taking the kids off my hands so I can take naps.

 Then comes our first dear child, little jC.  He will be 5 in September and starting kindergarten.  It makes me want to cry.  He is all about cars, blocks, and numbers.  He loves little cC with all his heart and loves to torture liitle luC with all his heart. He loves going on adventures, which means he hates when it's time to leave adventures.  He also loves to dance.  And when I say loves, I mean LOVES.  jC is proof that the last 5 years of my life have gone by insanely fast.

 Next up is our little luC.  And when I say little, I mean little.  (She is 2.5 years old and is in the 5th percentile for her weight, so that gives you an idea of just how little I mean.)  But don't let her littleness fool you.  She has a massive personality.  She is sweet, compassionate, and full of love.  She is also ornery, sassy, and impatient.  She cannot be convinced to do anything she doesn't want to do.  Unless you cry, thenn you can sucker her in.  (Something jC learned all too well!)  She gives the best hugs.  In-the-entire-world!!  She loves to play with dolls and read books.  And knock cC over.

Which brings us to our newest addition.  Little cC.  And by little, I mean the youngest in the family, not little like luC little.  In fact, he's only a couple pounds lighter than her!  cC is a big old ball of happiness.  Except when he's teething, then he's a big old ball of crankiness.  He really has the best smile that quickly turns my frowns upside down.  His favorite thing to do (aside from sleeping when I want him to be awake, or being awake when I want him to be asleep) is to crawl around the house looking for things to stick in his mouth.  Which means I often find him chewing on someones shoes.  He's a sweet boy!

And last of all, it's me, aniC.  A nearly 31 year old stay at home mom, that feels like a 14 year old that got stuck playing a game of house 5 years ago that won't stop.  Seriously, my life does not feel like my life, but like I'm just going along pretending.  I keep waiting for someone to say "Ok, you can stop now." but apparently this is the real deal.  I also feel like I'm stuck between wanting a million and one babies and feeling like I'm going to lose what's left of my sanity at any minute.  So I'm just plugging along.  Doing my best to be a mediocre wife and a competent mother.  (I've found it's easier to succeed if you set your standards low.)

So, that's us.

--And if any of my loyal readers that always looked forward to "kitty Thursday" are wondering about sweet little, izC, I have bad news for you, good news for her.  izC has a new home.  One with no kids to torture her.  I miss her tremendously, but I don't miss constantly harassing my kids for constantly harassing her.

The Important Questions

It's funny how when you are dating someone, you ask questions that you THINK are important to know if you are compatible with the person and if marriage would work out.  Too bad all of the answers to those questions end up changing through time and experience.
How many kids do you want?
Where do you want to live?
What baby names do you like?
All questions I learned had very changeable answers, depending on the year.  And they really just aren't all that important.

Now that I have kids, I realize what questions I should have asked.  The ones that are actually important. And some other questions that have nothing to do with kids, but I really wish I would have known.
(Please note that it doesn't necessarily mean that it would have changed my mind about marrying my dear, sweet, amazing, loving juC. It just would have been nice to prepare myself mentally. Nor does it mean that these questions would have had negative answers.  But let's just say with most of them, I wouldn't be thinking I should have asked them if it hadn't manifested itself somehow in our dear, sweet, amazing, loving children.)

-How bad is your eyesight?  At what age did you need glasses?
-Did you often get in trouble at school?
-Do you set your alarm unreasonably early and not get up when it goes off, and use the snooze button often? (I knocked out his snooze button usage right away!!)
-Were you a bed wetter as a child?
-Were you a good sleeper as a baby and child?
-Did it take hours for your mom to get you to sleep?
-Were you a picky eater?
-Are you or any of your blood relatives psycho?  (Just to clarify, none of his are, but I should have thought to ask.  He should have thought to ask, too.  Because just because none of his are doesn't mean none of mine are.)(If you are part of my family and reading this, I'm totally not referring to you.)
-How is your snoring?
-Were you a big baby at birth?  (Thankfully, he wasn't.  He was actually quite small.  But it's not something I thought to ask until I was pregnant, and came to terms with the fact that the baby had to come out.)
-How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?
-Is your family known for making cute babies?  (I actually didn't need to ask that question.  His nieces and nephews were the perfect evidence.)

Just a few questions I'd never thought about.  So perhaps if you have any single friends or family that are looking for "the one" you should share this list with them so they know what they should really be asking.
But, it really doesn't matter, I suppose.   I chose unbelievably well, even if I wasn't presented with all of the facts.

A True Story of Courage

If you know me, you will understand why this story is one of true courage.  If you don't know me, perhaps you should.  Or you should just know that the fear I have of the intruder mentioned in this story is a fear like no other I've known before.

Last week was a week just like any other.  No, that's not true.  Last week, for the first time in my life as a mother, I had to have us up and ready every day of the week to get jC off to his day camp that we'd signed him up for.  (You'd think it wouldn't be that much more difficult than getting us all up and ready for preschool when he was going 3 days a week.  You'd be wrong.)  (Have I mentioned how much I am NOT looking forward to jC starting kindergarten in September and having to do it every day for months on end?)

We were up.  We were ready.  We were running a few minutes late.  No big deal.

We were just moments away from being able to walk out of the door.  I placed cC in the car seat that was sitting atop the kitchen island.  I began to put the straps on him.  And that's when things got scary.

As I was about to put the second strap on cC's shoulder, I saw it.  There it was...RIGHT THERE.  It was walking right along the handle of the car seat that was pushed back flush with the seat itself.  It was right by my poor, defenseless babies head (and right by my poor defenseless arm, might I add.)

A quiet squeal escaped my mouth, alarming my other children to the immanent danger.  jC, being the scarediest of us all could not hide his fear.  I put on a brave face and assured him that I would protect my sweet little children from this unwanted evil intruder that had come into our home.

In the face of danger, I pulled myself together and acted quickly.  In a matter of seconds, I had poor helpless cC out of the car seat and safely on the floor.  jC was impressed by my fast acting, life saving maneuver.  I was, too.  But there was no time for celebrating cC's new found safety.  There was still an evil being to rid our home of.

So I did what any other person in my situation would do.

I grabbed a sturdy, easily held box that was on the kitchen island, and threw it at the car seat.  My aim was bad given my mental state.  I picked the box up again.  I pulled myself together and gave myself a brief pep talk.  Then I aimed the box at the demon and threw again.  My aim was better and it knocked it down onto the floor.  (Don't worry, my children were safely away from the battle ground.)

I was in the zone.  I had my 3 dear children to protect and this was the moment of truth.

I grabbed the box for one more go at it.  With precision like no other, I dropped the box on this spawn of Satan, and heroically put my foot on the box, squishing the contents underneath to smithereens.

That monstrous spider messed with me on the wrong day!  When evil tries to come between a mom and her 3 dear children (no matter how scared the mom may be of the evil), evil will fail!!