nose art

i've mentioned before that driving with my children can be a hectic and stressful event. but the most driving that i usually do is 30 minutes at a time, tops. 30 minutes isn't nearly enough time for my girls to prove just how over-the-edge they can drive me. this weekend, however, was my oldest sister's birthday, so my middle sis and i took a road trip to louisville for a "sister's weekend". and ella and madelyn went with us. it was during this excursion that my children reached their full annoying backseat passenger potential.


i knew that the drive wasn't going to be a pleasant one when madelyn's first reaction upon learning that she'd be visiting her cousin abigail for the weekend was, "but it takes soooo long to get there!" had abigail been coming to visit us, she would have been ecstatic. but there's something about riding for 2 1/2 hours in a car that drains the fun out of everything for a child. when she realized that she had left her nintendo ds at gran and papaw's house, it became all that much worse. i mean, she might have to read a book or color or something else old-fashioned and un-electronic. god forbid.


but madelyn isn't the one i was really worried about, it's ella. because she's younger, ella tends to be a little less tolerable in the car. or at mall. or walmart. i attribute much of this to her age. but honestly, lots of it has to do with her personality. not that she doesn't have an amazing one. in fact, she has tons of personality. she is smart and spunky, a little mischievous, a total ham, and absolutely hilarious. but she is also extremely short tempered.


madelyn's only real fault during the whole trip was her incessant talking and need to be entertained. she loves her aunt jen dearly, and insisted that the two either be playing hangman, or was constantly bugging her to play some sort of game on her iphone. then of course, there's the whole "i'm hungry" complaint, although both had eaten breakfast before we left the house. jennifer brought sausage balls, so i was set, but the girls complained that they didn't want sausage balls. so when we stopped in bowling green for gas, we also bought slim jims and mt. dew (at madelyn's request...what was i thinking? as if madelyn needs any more energy...). and jennifer and i, who had already sucked down one red bull a piece, also bought 2 cups of coffee.


ella first got mad when i attempted to listen to a song that she didn't want to listen to. she is currently into the pixies, red hot chili peppers, and eartha kitt's version of "santa baby." so a screaming fit ensued. she got mad when madelyn spoke, when it was too hot, when her coat bothered her, when her drink was empty, when the sun shone in her eyes, and when jennifer and i tried to carry on a conversation. no matter what happened, she was ill.

but the icing on the cake was when i glanced in the rearview and noticed that she was drawing on her window. she had been very good and quiet for some time, and jennifer and i had actually enjoyed getting the chance to talk and laugh with each other for the first time since we left olmstead. normally, i wouldn't have said anything, but the windows weren't fogged up, so i wasn't quite sure how she was drawing anything. curiosity got the best of me so i had to ask. "ella, what are you drawing on the window with?"

about that time i saw her reach her pointer and middle fingers up into each nostril and proceed to paint her masterpiece.

"oh my gosh, are you snot painting on my window!!!" i screamed.

wrong response.

for the remainder of our ride--30 minutes which seemed to last for an eternity--we got to hear the yelling and screaming and crying of an insulted, embarrassed, and ticked off 3 year old.

moral of the story: if your child is being good, don't bother them. no matter what they're doing or what they're smearing on your car window.

mornings at the roberts house...enter at your own risk

my weekday mornings are treacherous. sometimes i wonder if anybody else goes through the insanity that i do on a daily basis, but then i remember that i'm not the only mother in the world who has 2 young daughters. somehow, though, i'm convinced that there can't possibly be any 2 children in the world more dramatic, more demanding, and more emotional than my own.

madelyn has finally gotten to the age where she is fairly responsible in regards to getting up, dressing herself, and fixing her own breakfast. some mornings, she has on her jacket and her book bag is on her shoulder before i've even gotten out of the shower. but there are other times when she is so very, very slow. earlier this week, for example, it was time to walk out the door and she wasn't even close to being ready...because she had spent 20 minutes braiding a section of her hair and she hadn't even eaten yet. or there are times when she's in the middle of eating pancakes and she feels the need to run into the bathroom where i'm fixing my hair just to tell me something funny that a student in her class said 3 days earlier. it's the random, time-consuming tidbits like this that make me long for the day when she finally understands the concept of time.

and then there's ella. if i think back really hard, i can probably remember a time when mornings with ella were easy. or at least a time when they didn't make me want to pull out every hair on my head. but for the time being, those memories are lost, replaced only by kicking, crying, screaming fits of rage.

ella tends to have anger issues from time to time. she gets very upset over very minute details. i can't blame her; she comes by it honest. but at 6:30 in the morning, while i'm wrapped in a towel with wet hair and frantically running around trying to let the dog out to pee and put waffles in the toaster and brush my teeth, the last thing i want to do is deal with ella screaming about a pair of socks.

a few weeks ago, i made the mistake of answering ella's question, "what do i wear?" with the response "i don't care...whatever you want." minutes later she appeared in the doorway of my bedroom wearing a floor length satin dress that madelyn had worn when she was a flower girl a couple years earlier. i couldn't help but laugh. but that was the wrong reaction.

"dooooooon't laaaaaaaugh at meeeeeee!!!"

for the next 30 minutes, the ceiling in our bathroom felt like it was about to cave in, as ella lied on the floor in her bedroom kicking and wailing at the top of her lungs. and if she's not mad about an outfit, she's ticked off that she has to get out of bed because she's "sweepy"...or that she doesn't want to brush her teeth because the toothpaste is too "spicy"...or that madelyn looked at her wrong....or that she put her panties on backwards.

but it's not all my children's fault that i can never make it to work on time. or that i'm stressed out beyond belief before 8:00 every morning. i have to take some responsibility for my own actions. perhaps i hit the snooze button a few too many times in the morning. and maybe it wouldn't hurt to pick the girls' outfits out the night before. heck, it wouldn't hurt to pick out my own clothes the night before. just this morning, as i desperately attempted to button a pair of my skinnier jeans and then screamed "never get fat! you'll be miserable!" at my 7 year old as i flung the stupid things back in the closet, i wished that i had already decided upon what i was going to wear...preferably a pair of sweatpants. a little organization and preparation on my own part would probably cut the stress factor in half.

but i'm a self proclaimed procrastinator. i used to start on research papers the day before they were due. last sunday, i woke up early, but then mopped floors and cleaned house up until the last minute and ended up being late for church. but i've often found that not planning tends to work out pretty good for me, too. spontaneous, carefree nights of just hanging out at the house are always more fun than a pre-planned evening out. and the birth of my oldest child, madelyn--one of the two most precious gifts with which i've ever been blessed--wasn't exactly planned. but oh how much joy she has brought to my life.

so maybe i scream like a crazy lady every morning before work. and maybe my coworkers avoid me until my coffee has kicked in. maybe i go to work with mismatched socks, occasionally send my oldest to school with crazy hair, and let my youngest wear a flower girl dress to gran and papaw's house. all moms do that...right?

"it's the most [hectic, stressful, expensive] time of the year..."

oh my gosh, the christmas season is upon us. i can't believe another year has come and gone. it sounds so cliche, but the older i get, the faster time flies. i mean, it's been a month since halloween and it seems like only yesterday i was painting madelyn's face as a cat and forcing ella to wear her bee antennae. it's been almost a week since thanksgiving, and it seems like just this morning i was frantically rushing around walmart, finding the ingredients to make my 7 layer salad (which stressed me out, by the way...this is the first year i successfully prepared a dish for a family function. i'm officially an adult!)

so...back to christmas. this is the first year that madelyn has told me what she wants. last year, i desperately tried to squeeze out of the child any ounce of a clue of anything that she might want. nothing. so we bought what we wanted. same for ella. this year, it's a whole different ballgame. madelyn wrote a list a mile long, partially misspelled, filled with everything from hair bows and lip gloss to video barbie and orbeez (which forced me to search google to find out just what the heck "orbeez" are). ella also wants everything under the sun, but since she can't write yet, i just get to listen to her say "i want that" after every commercial she sees on tv. i did have to veto the fur real friend dog that you walk on a leash, pointing out that she has a real dog that she could walk on a leash if she just would, and that the one we have pees, poops, eats, and everything else. she didn't like my response.

being a parent at christmastime is tough. being a parent of multiple children is even tougher. not only is there the monetary factor to consider, (one almost has to take on a second job just to afford all the gifts his or her child wants) but have you ever gone to toys r us during the holiday season? oh my lord, it's miserable! and don't even get me started on black friday. i don't do it...i think it's the worst concept ever created. this year, my husband forced me out of the house and i almost died. i was one breath away from a major panic attack by the time we finally left walmart. fortunately, he rewarded me with hananoki afterwards.

then there's the whole "how much should we spend" saga. honestly, it doesn't matter how much you say you're going to spend, because it always ends up being more. either one child ends up with more gifts, so you buy the other something else to "even it out", or you get home and it doesn't look like you bought very much, so you go out and buy "fluff" gifts. you know "fluff" gifts...you spend $300 on one electronic, so you have to buy a bunch of cheap crap to create the illusion for your child that you got them a whole bunch of stuff. let's face it, no 3 year old is going to understand that the reason they only got 1 big present is because it cost more than 20 little gifts.

so christmas for parents is stressful. i think i've driven that point home. but wow...how rewarding it is! have you ever been woken up by an eager, ecstatic child at 4 a.m. on christmas morning? have you ever seen the excitement on a child's face when they realize that santa visited the night before? remember how fun christmas morning was when you still believed? these are the things that make it all worthwhile...the hundreds of dollars spent, the lines at the register, the constant questioning of "how many days until christmas?"

...but i still refuse to ever go black friday shopping again. a line must be drawn somewhere.

pointing fingers

each of my girls are quick to point out the faults in her sister, yet i don't think they realize their own shortcomings. it's really quite humorous, actually, hearing them tell on one another for something that the other said or did. just the other day, my holier-than-thou eldest child scribbled me a quick note on a post-it. it read (and i'm writing this in her own spelling) "i think ella just said damit". i had to laugh. not that my 3 year old had said a curse word (which may or may not be accurate; i decided not to confront her since i didn't hear it myself and because sometimes madelyn over dramatizes things), but because madelyn is so proper that she refused to say the word herself. so she wrote it instead. sadly, ella probably did let this profane word slip from her tongue, but that's another story.

although madelyn would never think of uttering such a word, what she does say (and oftentimes what she doesn't say) is sometimes just as bad, yet she doesn't realize it. madelyn has recently developed quite the attitude that i thought only teenagers possessed, and it frightens me that this personality trait will probably only worsen with age. the other night, madelyn was in the bathroom and i heard her talking so i innocently asked who she was talking to. the response i got was "none of your business!" and i can't begin to count on both hands the number of eye rolls, disgusted sighs, and evil glares of pure hatred that have come out of this otherwise sweet and adorable 7 year old.

i know the saying "what goes around comes around" is cliche, but it is so true. my mother smirks when i tell her stories about the girls because she's been there. three times, she's been there. but especially with me, the youngest child, she experienced every glare and eye roll and hateful word spoken in anger than i am dealing with now. so i actually think she delights in the fact that, on any given day, i'm ready to pull my hair out. believe me, i adore being the mother of my two amazing little girls, but i have to wonders sometimes...are boys easier?

sibling rivalry

last night, i heard the most blood curdling scream coming from upstairs in one of the girls' bedrooms. minutes later, ella emerged and came hobbling down the steps as if she'd been shot, her face red from either crying or just from getting mad, or maybe both. and streaking down her face, all the way from her cheek down her chest, was a fingernail scratch.

"sissy scratched me!!!" she shrieked.

from upstairs, i heard madelyn defend herself. "she scratched me first!"

madelyn ran down the steps and curled up beside me on the recliner. "see, look..." although madelyn was pointing at what she claimed to be a scratch on her knee from ella, it was so minuscule that i could barely see it.

after playing a rousing game of "who started it?" and visualizing the catfight that had just taken place upstairs, i finally made the girls kiss and make up. they were reluctant, especially ella.

of course, mine are not the first children to experience sibling rivalry. mom has told me stories of how aunt virginia used to sit on her and smother her face with a pillow when they were younger. and i remember alecia slapping me when i was about 8, and jennifer kicking me in the ankle with a pointy toed boot (which was apparently very traumatic at the time because i wrote about it in my diary). i'm sure i wasn't innocent in all of this, and probably deserved more than a slap and a kick.

i just didn't think they'd start arguing this much this early in life. it was only a few months ago that madelyn insisted upon ella sleeping with her at night because she didn't like sleeping alone. yet the other night, when ella crawled into madelyn's bed, madelyn started yelling.

"i don't want her in here! make her get in her own bed! she's always in my room!"

as the weeks pass, i get more and more of a taste of the jealousy, rivalry, and overall dislike that my girls feel for one another. not that they don't have moments where they get along great and absolutely love each other, but lately they've had it out for one another. today alone, i've dealt with madelyn not letting ella in her "fort"; ella taking madelyn's spot by me on the couch and madelyn crying about it; ella getting mad that madelyn's cinnamon roll had more icing than hers; and madelyn accusing me of loving ella more than i love her because, according to madelyn, i "hug ella more".

when they're older, i know that they'll be the best of friends, just as i am with my older sisters. but until that time comes, all i can do is throw my hands up and ride out the storm. the screaming, fighting, nail scratching and hair pulling storm.

newsflash: i'm uncool

apparently i've gotten to the age where i'm uncool. or maybe it's just that my children have gotten to the age where they think i'm uncool. let me rephrase that: one of my children has reached that age. either way you look at it, i got an unmistakable eye roll and overexagerated sigh from madelyn the other day when i used one of her favorite sayings "easy peasy, lemon squeezy".

"mom..." she scolded, only she drew this word out into about 3 syllables as if i had just said something truly heinous.

"what?" i asked.

"nothing."

okay, so maybe i'm just a big dork and nobody has the heart to tell me. but the last time i checked, i wasn't completely hideous, i didn't dress that unstylish, and i didn't act that humiliating in public. but i have to face the fact that, no matter what i do, my children are going to be embarrassed of me at some point in time. i just didn't think that time was going to be when they were 7. who knows, maybe my 3 year old is already embarrassed by me, too, but just doesn't know how to express it yet.

i remember the first time one of my parents made me want to crawl under a rock. i was in the 6th grade, and the school was hosting a "parents vs teachers" basketball game. and, wouldn't you know it, my dad played in it. if i'm figuring it correctly, he was about 45 at the time, which i now consider to be pretty darn young. but at the time, he seemed ancient. and i remember what he wore: matching red cotton shorts and tank top. yes, a tank top. if daddy were to get in front of a million people today and play basketball, i'd be proud as punch because i think the man is awesome and hung the moon. but at 12 years old, i was absolutely mortified. i was physically sick for the week before the big game. i mean, how could my parents do this to me? show school spirit and participate in activities to raise money for my education?? ugh!

looking back, i remember that daddy did a pretty good job. and he did look cute in his matching outfit and new nikes. he probably didn't think twice about playing in that game; i bet it never even crossed his mind that i might be embarrassed of him playing ball in front of the entire school. likewise, i think nothing of it when i belt out some tunes at the top of my lungs in the car while madelyn and my niece abigail are in the backseat (you have to understand, abigail's opinion is very important to madelyn). or when i eat lunch with her at school. i wonder if she's secretly thinking, "oh my gosh, i can't believe she is singing...her voice is horrendous!" or "um, what is she thinking coming to school wearing that?"

oh well, i'm not going to worry about it too much for now. because i know that madelyn tends to overreact sometimes and i would never do anything to intentionally embarrass her in front of her peers. plus, i still have a few years of coolness left in me before she has a real reason to be humiliated by my mere existence...maybe.

running errands...undies required

i can usually tell how my child has behaved during the day by my mother's mood and facial expressions when i pick ella up in the afternoons. yesterday, i decided to leave the office and go to my parents' house during my lunch break. mom only looked mildly distraught, so i figured it hadn't been too horrible of a day thus far.


after making myself a veggie burger and snuggling on delilah (yes, my mother also babysits my dog on occasion), mom cleared her throat and glanced at ella, who was in the other room.


"let me tell you what she did earlier," mom said with a smirk on her face and a raised eyebrow.


mom had to take some food to the church for one reason or another, and of course, ella went with her. she had insisted upon wearing a skirt that morning--she's on a kick where she wants to look like the chipette eleanor from alvin & the chipmunks, which apparently means wearing a skirt--and i let her, even though i'd rather her wear "play clothes" when she goes to gran's. so they drove to the church and went in, doing whatever mom needed to do, and talking to various people who were up there. i'm not sure how ella behaved, mom didn't say. but she didn't make it a point to tell me that she had acted up or done anything out of the ordinary. so i'm assuming she was fine. and then they left. it wasn't until mom got home and ella was getting out of the car that mom realized they had forgotten one small detail.


"...and as she was climbing out of her carseat, i noticed that she wasn't wearing any panties!"


yes, you heard me correctly.


"excuse me?! she wasn't...what...where...where were they?"


"i thought they were in the car...that she had taken them off while i was driving. but they weren't in there. and then when we got in the house, i saw that she had taken them off here! i told her i was going to tell you about it."


"did you ask her why she took them off?" i had to ask.


"well yeah...why don't you ask her yourself."


so i did. and the response was classic ella. "because they were getting in my crack."


life with kids...never a dull moment.

tears and dog hair

i completely lost it this morning. after yelling at the dog and forcing her out the back door, arguing with madelyn over what she was going to wear ("no, madelyn, you wore that dress last sunday...yes, i know you like it, but let's give it a few weeks to rest, ok?"), and searching frantically for ella a pair of ruffled "church" socks, i curled up on the couch and sobbed.


this type of erratic behavior is not uncommon for a sunday, but it is embarrassing. and it makes me wonder if anyone else that i know has ever felt this way. why on earth would a grown woman get so upset that she would literally curl into the fetal position on her couch and cry? and after slowly pulling it together, start crying again at the fact that there's dog hair stuck to her tear-streaked cheek? and then break down again when everything in the closet needs ironing? why???


there has to be some underlying reason, like stress or hormones. but this particular morning, my irrationality was initiated by sleep. or the lack thereof, actually. all i wanted was to sleep in, and i just couldn't understand why ella insisted upon waking me up when her daddy was lying right beside me. yes, i realize that i'm the "mommy", but just once, i'd like for everything to be taken care of for me when it comes to the girls. i just want a break. so when ella announced that she was (and i quote) "starving" and that she "needed me to get up right now and make her breakfast", i secretly wanted to pretend i was asleep, hoping she would ask brian instead. no such luck.

then there's delilah. i love her, but she's wild. and she sheds. and most annoyingly, she chews. this dog has chewed on everything possible inside my house, from door frames to the foot board of my bed. so on this particular sunday morning, when she started chewing a tiny loop of berber carpet on the bottom step of our stairway, and eventually unravelled an entire 8 inch row of thread, i went ballistic.

which brings us to the couch. here i was, lying in a pool of tears and dog hair, tired and feeling sorry for myself, feeling so overwhelmed that i didn't even want to shower myself for church, and desperately wanting to go for a drive with delilah and drop her off in somebody down the street's yard.

"i'm about to get rid of this dog...i can't take it anymore!" i screamed.

and then, after a few minutes of silence, my 7 year old daughter said something that made me think.

"i'm glad you don't want to get rid of us when we make you mad."

she was right, of course. it was a simple sentence, a simple thought, yet so very true. and spoken by a child. losing control of our emotions, such as anger and frustration (even if over the simplest of things, like sleep deprivation or a rambunctious puppy) can cause us to act crazy. and it can make us say things we don't mean (like saying you're going to try to sell the family pet on ebay because she annoys the everloving snot out of you). so the next time i get mad, i'm going to close my eyes and imagine madelyn thanking me for keeping her and ella around even when they upset me. i guarantee i'll bite my tongue and think twice before uttering my next words.

driving...with children

driving while talking on your cell phone can be dangerous. and there are laws against driving while texting. but driving with one hand while trying to restrain your 3 year old as she attempts to jump from a moving vehicle is just as risky, yet nobody really talks about it. that's why i'm here warn you that driving with children can be dangerous, and should be done at your own risk.

i've said it before: taking children shopping or out to eat is an adventure in itself. but getting there is half the battle. when kids are babies, you have to make sure you've packed enough diapers and formula to last until you get home, a change of clothes, bibs, bottles, pacifiers, toys, and the stroller. and while you're driving, you find yourself checking your rearview mirror, or reaching blindly into that impossible-to-see-from-the-driver's-seat rear facing carseat, feeling under your baby's nose to make sure he or she is still breathing.

those were the easy days. it was when ella graduated to the forward facing carseat that the real fun began. i'll never forget the first time she got out of her seat. i swear, it was an act that houdini himself couldn't have performed. we were leaving the house in a rush; i was going to work, and she was going to my parents'. ella used to have a habit of taking her diaper off in the middle of the night. it got to the point where i would dress her in the most impossible to remove clothing at night just so she wouldn't be able take her diaper off. one night, i honestly put her to bed in a one-piece bathing suit that had crisscross straps in the back.

but this particular morning, she was just wearing a gown. in my usual, frantic, early morning rush, i scooped her up and carried her out the car. it wasn't until i started buckling her in that i realized she wasn't wearing a diaper. and there was no time to go back in the house. "oh well...let's just pray she doesn't have to potty before we get to gran's house..."

she didn't, which was a blessing. what she did do was somehow unhook the straps of her carseat. here i am driving down ted crozier boulevard, when i happen to look in my rearview mirror and see a tiny naked butt facing me from the backseat. and there was ella standing in her carseat, looking out the back window.

that's not the only time it happened, although it was the only time it happened in the nude. one day she surprised me by peeking her head through the front seats when she was supposed to be securely fastened in the backseat. there's nothing like a 2 year old chirping "hi, mommy!" right beside your face while you're going 60 down the highway to cause a mild heart attack. there have been a few instances of her door flying open, sending me quickly pulling over to the shoulder of the road. i've been screamed at, hit in the head with paper airplanes, and slapped in the back with sticky-hand toys. i've yelled "don't make me pull over!", slammed on brakes when the backseat fighting wouldn't cease, and barely been able to see above the dashboard while reaching in the back floorboard to recover a dropped toy/shoe/crayon/stuffed animal.

so while i don't drink and drive, and i'm really trying to break myself from applying makeup in the rearview on my way to work, i do continue to engage in some of the riskiest of all driving behaviors--i get behind the wheel every day with 2 kids in the backseat. fellow drivers, beware.

goodbye thumb, hello bra!

my girls are growing up. i mean, i knew it was happening. they learn something new each and every day. they're growing taller. their vocabulary is expanding. but two milestone events occurred recently that made me laugh, but also made me think, "wow...they aren't babies anymore."


at the age of 7, madelyn decided that, um, a certain part of her body required, well, a certain article of clothing. ok, who are we kidding...let's be candid about this. she declared that she needed a bra. only she didn't tell me. she told her aunt jen. i'm not sure if she was completely serious when she made this announcement, or if she was all giggly and silly when she said it. i'm willing to bet it was the latter. nonetheless, the words came out of her mouth.


i found this to be quite humorous when my sister told me. a bra? seriously? the child is tall and lanky and doesn't have an ounce of fat on her. at 7, there's no way she could even remotely need a bra. so imagine my surprise--and my amusement--when aunt jen bought madelyn a "back to school" gift. you should've seen madelyn's excitement when she pulled out of that jc penney bag two bras with matching boy short panties.


now, let me define the word "bra" as it pertains to a 7-year-old's article of clothing. it's like one of those stretchy cloth headbands...for your chest. a 4 inch wide piece of fabric with two straps. oh, and monkeys. madelyn's had monkeys on it. it's kind of like an undershirt, a camisole. only extremely cropped.

of course, she had to immediately put it on. and for the next few days she wore it under everything. and showed people. not, like, strangers on the street or anything. but gran, and aunt jen, and pappaw (who did not like it one bit. made her too "growny"). and sometimes, she wore it with nothing else over it. like the fact that she had something to cover "that part of her body" excused her from having to wear a shirt. i swear, the child sat at the kitchen table one day with the bra and a pair of shorts and that's it.

then there's ella. i had finally accepted the notion that ella, who has found solace in sucking her thumb from day one, would probably enter high school still grasping on to that horrible habit. not that it isn't absolutely adorable. you can tell when ella is getting sleepy because she will suck her thumb and rub a blanket...or the corner of her shirt...or anything else, for that matter, against her eye until she falls asleep. but the other night, ella declared to gran and pappaw when she spent the night at their house that she was finished. no more sucking her thumb.

the next morning, pappaw said that she walked into the kitchen and announced "i didn't suck my thumb last night. you can kiss my thumb good-bye!" and that was it. i haven't seen her do it since.

i couldn't wait for ella to stop sucking her thumb. although i admit it's pretty darn cute that her top front teeth have the slightest of a gap and stick out just a tad, i knew that continuing to do this would later lead to trouble. but now that she has declared that she will never do it again, i can't help but feel a bit sad. it's just another sign that she's growing up. and madelyn...there's no doubt that i love shopping for her. children's clothes are way cooler now than they were when i was growing up. and kiddie bras with matching panties are pretty cute. but the other night while i was shopping, it occurred to me that some of the kids' clothes were a lot more "grown up" than i wanted my 7 year old to be wearing. a friend and i joked that it looked like madonna, circa 1984, designed target's fall line for girls aged 7-12.

it's funny how we are always looking forward to that next big milestone: their first step, their first tooth, their first word. but the next thing you know, they're not just walking, they're running. they're not getting teeth, they're losing teeth. they're not just talking, they're backtalking. so as much as i can't wait for the day when madelyn is old enough for me not to have to pay for daycare, or when ella gets to the age where i can take her to walmart without having to straight jacket her into a shopping cart, i need to live in the now and enjoy them for the little girls that they are. my little girls. they'll grow up soon enough.

have you hugged a mom today?

i'm no stranger to wanting to be a million different people at once. if i had my pick, i'd be a civil war-era southern belle, a woodstock hippie, and a flapper from the roaring 20's. this may also be why i had 7 different majors in college. so it's quite fitting that i became a mother, because now i literally get to be a million different people at once: a maid, a chef, a chauffeur, a referee, a photographer, a counselor, a doctor, a teacher, an event coordinator, a personal shopper, santa claus, the easter bunny, and the tooth fairy...to name a few. i even get to be inanimate objects from time to time, like a jungle gym or a trash can (why do my girls insist upon handing me their trash when they're finished with it, like lollipop sticks or gum wrappers?)

all of this, plus working a full time job, can be a handful. but these are just the the jobs that i do personally. i have friends who, on top of all of this and on top of their careers, also have part time jobs. and park board meetings. and soccer practice. and dance lessons. and some of them even do all of this as a single parent. wow.

so...have you hugged a mom today?

"oh yeah? well i did that, PLUS some!"

last sunday, i overheard this conversation in the backseat between madelyn and my niece, abigail.

madelyn: once, we were at hobby lobby, and i cut my foot on the door when i opened it. blood gushed everywhere.

abigail: yeah, well there was this one time when my whole pinky toenail got ripped off, and it looked like a river of blood.

madelyn: really? well i cut that same foot again on another door, and it was so gross...

thus, the competitive nature between same-age, same-sex cousins was born.

i found it quite amusing that the two were arguing over who had sustained the bloodier injuries in the past, as if it were some great feat. but the fact that they were debating such a topic only proves that children (and yes, even some adults) will compete over anything.

i see a lot of my sister, alecia, in abigail. her drive and competitive nature are only a few of the many traits that my niece inherited from her mother. madelyn, however, is very much the spitting image of me. not so much in looks, but in personality. she's very quiet until you get to know her, and then she'll open up and probably tell you more than you care to hear. she's extremely sensitive, much like me, and doesn't always take up for herself. it's that last trait that is my least favorite, yet the one that is so very me. so when madelyn refused to back down with the "..yeah, well, i almost chopped my arm off..." discussion, i couldn't help but smile.

but i have to prepare myself for that dreadful day when the competition isn't so innocent. when someone else gets the lead in the play. when they don't make the cheerleading squad. when one of them gets dumped for another girl. when their best friend gets a brand new car for her sweet 16.

raising children isn't all sunshine and roses. i've come to realize that it's just as hard, if not harder, living through my children's heartache and disappointment as it was when i was younger and living through it firsthand. so i'm slowly preparing myself for when the competition gets fiercer, the heartache gets deeper, and the worries get bigger. until then, i'm satisfied sitting back and laughing at madelyn and her competitor argue over who has the cutest puppy or the longest bangs.

the list

most new mothers get advice from their girlfriends on what to expect when they first bring that little bundle of joy home from the hospital: no sleep, 2 a.m. feedings, and the overwhelming need to sprint into the nursery at every little coo and grunt that is heard coming out of the baby monitor. but you don't hear as much about what to expect once that child turns 2. or 3. or 7. as i was attempting to shower in peace the other day, i had to laugh at the thought of some of the things i sacrificed when i became a mom:

*the luxury of going to the bathroom...alone.
*a clean vehicle that doesn't consist of half-eaten fries, half-empty sippy cups, 2 weeks worth
of school papers, and 5 stuffed animals
*sleeping past 6 a.m.
*glass doors free of handprints
*watching a t.v. show that does not center around a kitchen sponge who lives in a pineapple in
the ocean
*going through the day without being asked a million and one random questions, or being
asked to do a million and one random activities ("why do dogs have whiskers?" "let's play
momma squirrel and baby squirrel!")

on the other hand, i coudn't even begin to imagine all the things i would gain from becoming a mom until i actually experienced them:

*listening to them recite spelling words or read a book, and the indescribable pride you feel that
'they finally get it'
*hearing that sweet, tiny voice say "i love you"
*hugs, sloppy kisses, and the uncontrollable urge to laugh whenever they are giggling so hard
they can barely breathe
*fixing their hair and shopping for cute little girls' clothes
*becoming santa claus, the easter bunny, and the tooth fairy
*watching their pure joy and excitement as they open gifts on christmas morning
*displaying a school paper with an A+ and a smiley sticker on the fridge
*having someone tell you that you're the "best mom in the world"

of course, any mom can tell you that you don't have to make a list to know that the rewards of having kids outweigh the sacrifices, hands down. although i would like to be able to go to the bathroom alone every once in a while.

the devil lives in my daughters' closets

lionel richie had a song called "easy like sunday morning". great song, but the title itself is a contradiction. sundays are anything but easy. apparently, mr. richie never tried getting 2 young divas ready for church.

i've become convinced that the devil will do anything and everything to prevent a person from going to church on sundays. in the past, he's forced me to sleep late, caused fights, and (when ella was younger) made dirty diapers occur just seconds before walking out the door.

this morning, the devil somehow made his way into the girls' closets. he stole a shoe and shrunk some dresses. first of all, madelyn had a sandal to mysteriously disappear. and i mean, we searched everywhere. in the back of her closet, under her bed, in the shoe holder on the back of her door, in the honda, in the nissan, in ella's closet, under ella's bed, in the toy basket downstairs, in my closet, in suitcases. so i merely suggested she wear a different pair of shoes and the world suddenly came crashing down.

"no, i'll just wear another outfit."
"no, you'll just wear different shoes."
"but i want the piiiiiiiiink ones!!!!"

the devil rears his ugly head.

next, i went into ella's room. and it's the strangest thing: all of ella's dresses had mysteriously shrunk. not a single one fit. i swear the child had more clothes than that. the first hit right below her butt. the next could've been worn as a shirt. the white one had a stain, the turquoise one had a rip, last year's easter dress still fits but the shoes don't. and when i pulled out the denim one, ella wrinkled her nose.

"i don't want that one."

we settled on a pale pink one that needed ironing. it didn't get ironed.

how is it that the devil seems to strike when we're at our weakest? when we're vulnerable? when he knows he can get us? that moment hits me almost every sunday morning. i'm rushed, i'm frantic, but i'm trying my best to do the lord's will...and he absolutely hates it.

so with a wrinkled dress, the "wrong" shoes, and my hair looking as crazy as i feel...we made it to church. on time, even. sorry, devil...you lose.

a real woman can take her kids to walmart...and survive

every mother knows that there is time in her child's life when she would rather not take them to a restaurant to eat. i'm talking about a restaurant where you have to wait to be seated, order from a menu, and drink from glasses instead of paper cups with lids and straws. a "sit-down" restaurant, if you will. you choose the restaurant based upon which one plays the loudest music to drown out your crying baby/screaming toddler/etc. the age varies from child to child, but it is somewhere between the age where they stop sleeping in their pumpkin seat throughout the entire meal and when they're old enough to order for themselves. you know, that age.


on the other hand, there is a whole different set of age guidelines for taking children shopping. shopping with children does not become enjoyable until they are much, much older. shopping with multiple children is even less enjoyable, no matter the age. or maybe my children just haven't reached that age yet.


today, i took madelyn and ella to walmart to do a little grocery shopping. i usually save such a task for when i'm alone, but i was getting stir crazy and wanted to get out of the house, so we went. it started out badly when ella started crying before we even got out of the car because i turned off the ignition while she was listening to oasis' "champagne supernova". the crying continued when i told her that she was going to to ride in the basket, whether she liked it or not. so she climbed in the back instead of the front where she was supposed to. i pick my battles, so i wasn't going to complain that her occupancy of my cart was going to hinder me from placing groceries there. then madelyn chimed in, "my feet hurt...can i ride in the front?"

"madelyn, i really don't think your butt will fit...you can walk or get in with ella."
"no, i don't wanna get in!"
"then you will walk."
"but i don't wanna!"
"then we will go home."
"fine. i'll walk."

all of this before we even got inside.

walmart on wilma rudolph stresses me out anyway, since they've started their renovation project. i have no clue where anything is. a few weeks ago, the bottled water was in the lingerie department. but when you add children to the mix, it increases the panic attack factor to alarmingly high levels. ella decided she wanted to go to sleep and proceeded to curl up in the fetal position in the cart. good...at least if she's asleep, she won't whine. but then she insisted i buy a beach towel so that she could have a "pillow", and screamed when i refused. madelyn kept trying to ride on the end of the cart, which made it difficult to push and turn, and also made ella want to get out of the cart and do the same thing.

"can i just lay on the rails underneath the cart?" she asked at one point. um, no, madelyn. you're not a case of cokes. but thanks for asking.

but my breaking point was when she informed me that she had lost a shoe. she was standing on the rail at the end of the cart, against my better judgement, and somehow the darn thing just disappeared.

"madelyn, when did you lose it?"
"i don't know. not too long ago."
"ok...was it just now? did it slip off? did you fling it? i mean, why...why is it not on your foot?"
"um...it just kinda came off...it's here somewhere..."

so we began to look. no shoe. i stepped out of the aisle and looked left and right...no shoe. i looked at the rails under the cart, where madelyn had earlier wanted to position herself like a big bag of dog food. nothing.

"madelyn, honey...how long has it been since you had the shoe on your foot?"
"i don't know."

so we retraced our steps. and about 5 aisles back, on the other side of the store, sat a lone, pink shoe.

we won't even talk about the checkout line, the requests for candy and gum and a drink and all of the other items walmart stocks at the front of the store to tantalize young kids. or the fact that i walked in with a list of groceries and only came out with a gallon of milk, tub of blue bonnet butter, and a case of bottled water. oh, yeah...and about a shred of my sanity. i did leave with that.

are we raising meaner kids?

in the infamous words of alice cooper..."schooooool's out for summer...." that much anticipated time has finally arrived when my soon-to-be 2nd grader gets to spend all day, 5 days a week, with her beloved gran. i don't think this time of year brings as much joy to gran, but that's neither here nor there.


what i remember from being a child and how i viewed my nannie is quite a bit different than how my girls view their gran. she was a 'grandmother' in every stereotyped sense of the word. she got her hair rolled once a week. she wore glasses. she baked cookies. she wore sas orthopedic shoes. i loved her dearly, but most importantly, i respected her. after all, how can you disrespect a little old lady?


i suppose this is why i find it very strange when my children "act up" when they visit gran and papaw. don't get me wrong, i participated in my share of mischief at nannie and papa's house as a child. i vaguely remember my cousin, kyle, and i getting in trouble for turning on the outside water spout when we were instructed not to (strangely enough, this is the same cousin with whom i got into trouble at his house for hosing down the inside walls of their garage...what was up with us causing chaos with water?) but aside from that, i don't recall ever doing anything that nannie told me not to do. my girls, on the other hand, have back-talked, thrown screaming fits, name-called, and deliberately disobeyed my parents. but what really put the icing on the cake is when, just last week, mom told me that ella had called her "stupid". really? are you kidding me? my 3 year old told her grandmother that she's stupid? i didn't raise her this way!

maybe this "freedom of speech" has come about because my girls are so comfortable with my parents. from the time madelyn was 2 years old, my mother was like a 2nd mother to her. she watched her from the time i started working full time in 2005, and when ella was born in 2007, she started watching her, too. or maybe it's because today's grandmothers don't seem so "grandmotherly". they aren't the white-haired little women that i traditionally think of when i think of a grandmother.

but could it be that we are raising disrespectful kids, even if unintentionally? i'd like to think that this isn't the case, but i can't help but think of how children acted 50 years ago. would opie ever have told aunt bea that she was stupid? i strongly doubt it. of course, aunt bea probably didn't even use the word "stupid", herself. i admit i've been guilty of using negative expressions ("this computer is getting on my nerves! this stupid internet is so slow!") and as a result, my children may think it's ok to say these things to, um, their grandmother. as a society, we seem to be straying away from the morals and values and manners that were instilled in our grandparents and our parents...and in us. i must say that i am always prompting a "thank you" out of my children by saying "what do you say?" when they are given a compliment or a gift. and i know that my mom has been working with them on their "ma'ams" and "sirs". so maybe it's not too late to raise well mannered, respectful children. hmm, ella just flung herself on the ground, screaming and writhing in anger over a weeble toy. ok, so maybe we still have a little work to do.

in my daughters' eyes

"i don't like your attitude, madelyn."


this sentence came out of my 3 year old's mouth today. the girls were playing, and madelyn had done something to make ella mad. so ella verbally reprimanded her.


of course, i had to laugh. but then i thought, "where did she get that? oh....yeah....those exact words came out of my mouth the other day when madelyn got smart with me..."


children are sharp. and they pick up on things when we think they aren't listening. this can be a good thing; like if you try to teach your child something and you don't think they're paying attention until they can recite it back to you. but sometimes they're listening when you really wish they weren't. like when you get road rage and yell at the other drivers on the road, only to have your daughter screaming "come on slowpoke, it's green!" the next time the two of you are sitting at a light and the car in front of you just sits there (um, yeah...true story).

one of the funniest things i've ever seen my girls do is the first time (because they've done this more than once) that they pretended to be me and brian. it was one night after we had both gotten off work and our shoes were by the front door. madelyn put on brian's shoes and ella slipped on mine. once they were "in our shoes", they became "us".

"oh, i'm tired. i'm going to lay in the recliner and watch tv," madelyn said in as deep a voice as she could make.

"i'm going to get on the computer. girls, will you please pick your stuff up!" ella said, also changing her voice.

we were cracking up, of course, because it was hilarious. but seriously, is this how our children see us? brian is always kicked back in the recliner and i'm always barking orders? when you see your child do something or hear them say something that sounds vaguely familiar--and then you realize that the reason it is familiar is because you just did or said the exact same thing the day before--it really puts things in perspective. moral of the story? watch your words. watch your actions. because your kids are always watching you!

in honor of dear ol' mom

mom has started reading my blog. she seemed a bit huffy the other day when she told me that she had read some of my posts. then, after a few minutes, she said, "what, do you think i don't know fashion? because i made you wear this horrible white sweater with pink pants in the 3rd grade?"


mom is so funny. and i could tell a million funny stories about her. but she would get offended and think that i was making fun of her, when really i'm not. if i didn't love her dearly and think that she was the greatest mother on earth, i wouldn't bother even telling the stories. so i won't mention the words and sayings that she comes up with that we are pretty certain that she made up herself. and i won't talk about how silly she is with my girls, although that is one of the reasons they love her so much. but i will tell about the other things that make her great, in the hopes that she doesn't think i'm "making fun".



i was a momma's girl when i was little. i was devastated when i had to start kindergarten and leave her side, and i cried for weeks. but being a momma's girl was short-lived, and throughout my teen years, we most definitely clashed. i think maybe all girls go through that with their mothers, so i guess i better start preparing myself now. i never felt like i could talk to her about "stuff". i don't think it was so much her; maybe it was just my age or my own personality that made me feel like i couldn't talk to her. you know how you hear about girls who say that their mother is their best friend and they could talk to her about absolutely anything? that wasn't me.
i remember being embarrassed to tell her that i wanted to start wearing a bra. i think i wrote her a note or something. i don't remember talking to her about boys. or that dreaded 3 letter word that starts with an 's' and ends with an 'x'. and at 23, when i had to tell her that i was pregnant...unmarried and pregnant...it was just as difficult as if i were still a teenager.

but in the past 8 years, i've realized things about my mom that i never saw before. or perhaps i saw them but just didn't appreciate them. she's so completely fair with all of us girls. if she bought my lunch one day, she'd make sure she did something special for alecia and jennifer, too. she's funny. she's silly. certain aspects of my mothering style are a lot like hers, and i'm becoming more and more like her every day. i hope that my girls feel like they can talk to me about anything and everything as they get older. i'd like to be considered as the 'cool' mom. but if they feel they can't come to me, or if they think i'm totally uncool, i'll understand, because i was young once too. lately, i've found myself saying "oh my gosh, i'm becoming my mother" on more than one occasion. and you know what? that isn't a bad thing. not in the least.

this was the best day ever!

we live about 2 miles from dunbar cave park, so monday after work, i took the girls and delilah down to where the road has been blocked off to see the effects of the flood. we took pictures, and the girls were amazed by the fact that the same grassy hill that they had rolled down just a few weeks before was now almost entirely covered in water. when we got back in the car, madelyn said, "this was fun, wasn't it, mom?" in her mind, we weren't viewing the aftermath of a horrible natural disaster. we were simply spending time together, walking along the waterside and watching ducks swim across a lake in the middle of the road.

i can think of a few times that the girls have declared that "this is the best day ever". like the time i wanted to get out of the house, so we went driving around and ended up at baskin robbins. or the time i bought paint and canvases and let them create masterpieces to hang in their rooms. or madelyn going to watch the new 'alice in wonderland' movie in 3D with her daddy. and ella still talks about the time she went with gran and papaw to cumberland falls (although that has been about a year ago, and the fact that her 3 year old brain can remember something that happened when she was 2 amazes me). of course, they also remember some not-so-happy moments. like the time madelyn ate so many jelly beans she threw up (that was almost 4 years ago and she still refuses to touch a jelly bean). or, more recently, having to watch their beloved pet die.

of course, some of my fondest memories growing up are family vacations to the beach and to the mountains. but there are tons of other memories that stand out in my mind. memories that are just...ordinary. like riding with daddy in the truck and listening to a mixed tape that he had made. to this day, i cannot hear 'mississippi squirrel revival' or 'seven spanish angels' without thinking of daddy and a semi-truck. or the time mom said we were going to get buttercups, and i got excited thinking she meant we were going to the store to buy reese's peanut butter cups. how disappointed i was when instead we went walking out in the field to pick flowers and i didn't get a single piece of the chocolate-covered peanut butter yumminess that i had eagerly anticipated.

i think my first memories date back to when i was 3 or 4. i'm certain that i can't remember anything that happened prior to that. which means that events that take place in ella's life right now, she should be able to recall when she's my age. it makes me wonder, with every word that comes out of my mouth and with every place that i take my girls and with everything that we do together...what is going to stand out in their minds when they get older?

just add water

i was never taught how to cook. i'm not blaming my mom, or nannie, or any other female figure in my life when i was growing up. i mean, do moms still do that? take their daughters into the kitchen and teach them how to whip up meringue? maybe they do. mom once said that she may be partially to blame because when my sisters and i were younger, she would tell us to justgo play or watch tv until she was finished with dinner instead of inviting us in there to show us how it was done (which makes me think...perhaps my impatience was inherited from my mother?) and nannie, god rest her soul, was a student of the "pinch of this, dash of that" school, from which i completely flunked out. i tried that with smoked salmon dip once because i couldn't remember how much of what went into the recipe. the outcome was not good. it's not that i'm complaining; i'm just making an observation. but as a result, i'm not a good cook to this day. luckily, my husband is.

i have had several instances of recipes gone bad. like the corn pudding that i tried to make 2 thanksgivings ago. it wasn't that i didn't prepare it correctly, it's just that my oven is too hot. so my burnt-to-a-crisp creation ended up in the trash, i ended up crying my eyes out, and the family ended up at kroger buying pie to take to the kennedy family function. and twice, i screwed up hamburger helper. the first time is because i mixed everything together instead of preparing the cheese sauce separately. the second time, i used soy milk instead of regular milk, which would've been fine had i remembered that i bought the vanilla flavored instead of plain. and just last night, i added too much milk to some "just add milk" muffin mix.

i doubt my girls want to learn how to make soupy muffins and vanilla hamburger helper. yet, for some reason, my girls still think that i'm the greatest. madelyn thinks my "homemade" pancakes (read: pancakes made from mix in which you just add water) are the best she's ever had. and the phrase "you're the best cook ever" has actually come out of ella's mouth after eating ramen noodles to which i "just added water". but what else do i have to teach them? well, i take them to church and teach them about god. they know how to pray (even though ella still says "a minute" instead of "amen"). they are in the process of learning how to pick up after themselves. they know to say "please" and "thank you". i tell them stories about when i was little, and about their great-grandparents so they know where they came from. they can responsibly drive a barbie jeep, which i think will serve them well when they get older and learn to drive a real vehicle. they also know that you can't wear white before easter or after labor day. and how to eat with chopsticks. they appreciate good music. madelyn knows that jim morrison was the lead singer for the doors, and led zeppelin's "going to california" used to be one of the only songs that would make ella stop crying in the car when she was a baby. so maybe i'm not a chef and can't keep a spider plant alive. but for everything that i have taught and will teach my girls, they think i'm the greatest. and really, that's all that matters to me.... hopefully one of their grandmothers can teach them all the domestic stuff.

just a little patience...

when did i lose my patience? i swear that i used to have tons of it. i think that the loss occurred somewhere around 2005, coincidentally around the time madelyn turned 2. yep, i'm pretty certain that my patience flew out the window during those temper-throwing, potty-training, incessant-talking, terrible twos. add ella to the mix, and now my fuse is so short that it's safe to say that it is nonexistent. as we speak, she is singing a made-up song about yogurt (and how she wants some--NOW) at the top of her lungs. she's been singing it for 10 minutes. i'm about to go berserk.

the day started off rough. maybe it's the dreary weather. or the fact that i slept later than normal, which tends to throw me off kilter. or the fact that i don't have an i.v. of caffeine hooked up to me during the night, so it takes me a good 20 minutes and 2 cups of coffee in the morning before i can function or handle anything or anybody. and before i could even blindly stumble to the kitchen to brew a pot of that glorious beverage that brings me to life, madelyn starts telling a story. this would've been fine, except sometimes when madelyn tells a story, she gets off track and starts stuttering and stammering around and forgets what she's talking about, and says things like "...and like...and then...um, so...like...(giggles)...what was i saying? oh yeah..ok...so..." this was one of those times. so after 15 minutes, she was finally able to deliver this epic tale of how she was at aunt jen's one time and drank sprite from a coffee cup. and i had to smile, because in a way it made me laugh. but i also had to say, "really, madelyn? all of that time to tell me about sprite?" and she just laughed.

i love my girls with all my heart and couldn't imagine life without them. still, i have to wonder...is it just me? is it in my nature to be impatient and get frustrated over tiny details? is it because i'm stressed out? or do children just make us this way?

divas

as soon as i sat down at the computer earlier tonight, ella walked out of the bathroom at the top of the steps and stood looking down through the banister rails on the landing...not wearing a stitch of clothing. i'm convinced that she's her happiest either when she's completely naked, or when she has so many random articles of clothing on that she can barely move. just this afternoon, with the sun shining and a warm breeze blowing, she walked out of my mom's house wearing long sleeves, pants, and a raincoat. this is the same child who, at about a year old, used to take her diaper off in the middle of the night and sleep commando. the same child who, when was told to get dressed for bed, came downstairs in a bikini swimsuit. and the same child who, on occassion, will dress herself at night and wake up the next day fully clothed and ready to go. one morning i pulled the covers back and there she was, wearing a shirt and skirt and tights.

and then there's madelyn. madelyn has always been very fashion conscious. now, she has been known to throw together some very off-the-wall outfits, but for the most part, she knows how to match and accessorize. i distinctly remember dragging her, kicking and screaming, through st. bethlehem elementary's parking lot to her kindergarten christmas musical because she wasn't wearing the right shoes. i had just bought her a new pair of suede black flats that were slightly too large, so she had to wear her black leather mary janes instead. this did not please her whatsoever. spectators must've thought that i had chopped the child's feet off and THAT was the reason she was crying so much. no, it was just that she didn't like wearing "last season's" shoes. we ended up missing the musical altogether.

it frustrates me to no end, dealing with my mini-divas over things that are of such little importance. like shoes, for instance. or, in ella's case, getting her to put on underwear instead of streaking through the house. but if i think about it, i was the exact same way when i was little. picture it: elkton, 1988. it was january, i was in the 3rd grade, and i had just returned from christmas vacation. i had just gotten back from florida the night before, where i had spent christmas and new year's with my family. we had gone there with the basketball team; my sister, jennnifer, was a cheerleader. because we had been out of town, mom hadn't done any laundry, and i didn't have anything to wear to school. i remember i owned this outfit that was totally cool: a long, hot pink and black striped turtleneck sweater with hot pink sweater leggings. for some reason, the top was dirty, and mom made me wear the pants with a white sweater. a short, white sweater. even at 8, i knew this outfit was hideous. i didn't want to wear it. i was mortified. the world truly ended on that day.

it's funny how, when we get older, we tend to forget about all of those things that were such a big deal when we were younger. children are innocent. they haven't yet had to face meeting deadlines at work, or paying the mortgage, or any of the other things that are such big deals to us as adults. to them, having to wear a short white sweater with pink sweater leggings compares to being overdrawn in the checking account. likewise, being the line leader is just as important as getting that huge promotion. i really need to remember that the next time the girls are being overly dramatic and completely irrational. after all, they come by it honest--they learned from the best!

"did you know that butterflies eat nectar?"

i went to eat with madelyn tonight. brian and ella are out of town so i decided to take her to the chinese buffet. and of course, she had to eat with chopsticks because it's the proper thing to do in a chinese restaurant. i'm actually quite impressed with how well she can eat with them. but what impresses me even more is how grown-up she has become.

it's not like we talked about politics or anything, although we probably could; she knows who the first president was and who the current president is, which is about the extent of my political knowledge. but she just started spouting off facts to me, and the way she delivered the information wasn't like "hey, guess what i learned today", but rather she just started talking nonchalantly as if talking about the weather.

"so, ya know that bees make honey? and butterflies, when they lay eggs, it has this sticky stuff on it. yep. so we got to go on our field trip today and it was fun. we didn't have any homework. and i told mrs. price about our new dog. what does that stuff taste like? what is it, shrimp? does it taste like fish? that stuff is all seafood, isn't it? it's called that because it comes from the sea. ok, i'm ready for ice cream, but you don't have to go with me. i can do it. and if i have problems, i'll just come back to the table and get you, k?"

after staring at her for a minute and taking it all in, i finally said "madelyn, how did you get so smart?" and then she just looked at me, as if i had just asked the most ridiculous question she had ever heard. "um, i go to school, you know."

looking across the table, at that very moment, i realized that my daughter is growing up. we don't have one-on-one time very much, where we just "hang out." it was nice. but as nice as it was, and as thrilled as i am at how smart and beautiful and funny this tiny little 2 pound miracle baby has turned out to be, it absolutely scares me to death. my babies are growing up, and there's nothing i can do about it.

hey there delilah

i'm not going to say that my husband isn't a romantic. or that he's never done anything sweet or spontaneous. but over the past week, he's probably been more thoughtful, patient, and compassionate than he has been in the 8 years that i've known him.

i've already said that i'm extremely emotional. i cry at situations that are obviously sad, such as funerals. i've teared up during church services numerous times, moved by a message or a song. but i also cry at things like movies that aren't even meant to be sad, or at the occasional publix commercial (yeah, don't ask). so my husband, brian, has grown accustomed to me bursting into tears without notice. and he usually laughs or rolls his eyes. but when our dog died, he knew how deeply i hurt, and he didn't laugh or roll his eyes at how unbelievably miserable i was. he was patient and understanding, which meant more to me than anything he has done in a long time.

at first, he was going to surprise me. but for whatever reason, he decided to talk to me first. actually, before talking to me, he talked to my mom. he told her that he was worried about me because i really seemed to be taking pitino's death hard, and that he just wanted to see me happy. he couldn't stand seeing his wife this way.

and now, as of around 5:30 p.m. this afternoon, i am the happy owner of delilah, an 11-week old pug. the girls already adore her, although we debated for hours on a name, and ella is a bit confused as to whether or not she is actually pitino raised from the dead or just a look-alike. madelyn is just excited that we got a girl that we can dress up in bows and tu-tu's. and me? i'm excited to have a dog in the house again--4 days was long enough to know that i am apparently one of those "dog people" who needs to have a 4-legged family member in order to be truly satisfied. she's not pitino, nor do i want her to be, nor will i try to mold her into being. but she's a sweetie, has her own playful personality which is already evident, licks my face, and is snoring in my lap as we speak. just as you cannot (or at least should not) compare kids, the same goes for pets. so delilah, welcome to your first night as a "roberts". we hope you love it here.

goodbye, ol' buddy

oh wow. i forgot that i had started blogging until i saw on a friend-of-a-friend's facebook page that they had listed their blog page as a website on their page. did i mention that i have no short term memory? it's true. my longterm memory is phenomenal; i can tell you who came to my 8th birthday party, what i wore, and what movies we watched, but i couldn't tell you what i ate for lunch yesterday. but anyway....what was i saying? oh, yes...i had forgotten that i started blogging. so i thought i'd start writing again, and try to make it a regular thing.

most notably, we just lost pitino this past week. he was killed wednesday, and my whole world came to a screeching halt. isn't it amazing how pets can become family? for those who do not have, or have never had a family pet, you probably can't understand that. it's like, "aw, really? i'm sorry." i mean, this wasn't a goldfish that i won at the carnival. it was a dog that i had to feed and bathe, who curled up under my feet whenever i stood at the sink to wash dishes or brush my teeth. my baby, who slept on my feet every night. not that you can't get attached to, er, a goldfish. but i think you get the point. and honestly, when we first bought him, i had no idea how much of my "child" he would actually become. i seriously had to take 1/2 day of leave from work wednesday morning because i was an emotional trainwreck. i would've taken the entire day, but being at my parents' house wasn't making things any easier. i just stared like a zombie at his freshly dug grave with the dogwood blossoms scattered across the top and cried like a baby. and all of my coworkers, my friends, were so very kind and supportive.

so i've been sleeping every night with a stuffed animal pug of madelyn's. yes, it's pathetic, but i don't care. it has helped fill the void of not having a dog at the foot of my bed. and my husband, distraught that his wife has been a weepy mess for the past 4 days, has been researching "pugs for sale" in the clarksville area and we actually go meet with a lady in cadiz today. i don't know if we'll get one, but we are going to look, nonetheless. i'm nervous for some reason...is it too soon? will pitino understand that we aren't replacing him, but rather we are just so saddened by our loss that we want to carry on his memory with a pet that is so much like him? so that we can be reminded of him? ok, so maybe i'm a complete wacko...but you "pet people" understand...right??