And the Mother of the Year Award Goes To....

ME!!! Not that I'm proud.

This morning the kids were driving me nuts. M is teething and for the past two nights has been up at least once an hour. A has some sort of strange sickness that involves a low grade fever and extreme whining. He apparently has become incapable of doing anything on his own including walking, playing and even watching Dieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeegoooooooo!!!!!!!! Usually I have patience for this type of thing but Whiny Kid + Teething Kid + No Sleep = One Grumpy Mom. I am exhausted and actually cried when dh went to work this morning.

So after an extremely long morning I decide that it would be best if we ventured out of the house, even if it is for a few minutes. The automatic car wash doesn't involve getting out of the car and since we were all still in our pajamas I decided that seemed like the best place to go. Plus if the car wash attendant is there we will get Tootsie Pops. Six dollars for a car wash and free Tootsie Pops, what more could you ask for?

A is all excited about going to the car wash until I put him in his carseat, then screams the whole way there because he wants to watch a dvd. (I don't let him--the car wash is like, a mile away) There are two cars ahead of us and we wait. He is still screaming. The car wash attendant brings us both Tootsie Pops and tears turn to slurps of joy. M is happily chewing on a blanket. We move forward. The car wash starts.

I am enjoying my cherry flavored Tootsie and watching the water hit the car when all of the sudden M is hollering like someone threw a bucket of cold water on his head. I turn and look and realize that, in fact, a bucket of cold water IS being thrown on his head. Water is gushing through the window right at him. I throw A's coat over him and he continues to cry. Water is still coming down everywhere. I finally realize that I need to actually close the window and I do.

The car wash gets over and I pull over to assess the damage. The window was only open a teeny tiny amount but it was enough to get everything wet. M is soaked, his carseat is soaked, the entire backseat is soaked. He is livid and lets me know. My poor baby. Not only is he getting teeth (which cannot be comfortable) but he is trying to figure out why on earth he was just doused with frigid water in the middle of January. We got home and I tried to nurse him to sleep. He was so upset that he would pull off, give me the "angry cry" and then get back on. Finally he gave up and went to sleep.

Yeah, I am the Mother of the Year. May tomorrow be a better day.

Simple Pleasures: When dh gets home

One of my very favorite things is when Greg comes home from work. Not just because it means I get help with the kids but because of the sheer joy it invokes.

A, M and I are playing in the family room and the sudden we hear the garage door go up. A looks at me, alarmed, "Da-ta. Da-ta!" (Which means Daddy for those who are not well versed in the language of my two year old) I say, "Yeah, looks like Daddy is home! Go get him!" He runs to the door that leads to the garage and waits impatiently. If Daddy doesn't come in right away he knocks on the door and yells, "Daaaaaaaa-taaaaaaaaa!!!! Daaaaataaaaaa!" He tries to open it, but can't. (Hooray for that..any day now he'll figure it out and we'll be in trouble) Greg opens the door and announces his arrival, "Hellooooooooo!!!!" At this point A is jumping up and down and running all around in circles all the while yelling, "Da-ta!! Da-ta!" He runs to me and points to him, wants me to make sure I know that Dad is home. "Yay! Dad is home," I say.

Greg picks him up, gives him kisses and tickles. A laughs and laughs, acts like he is trying to get away but doesn't quite do it. M, who is six months, sits back and observes with an admiring smile. Dh looks at him and smiles and gives him a tickle too. Smiles turn into fits of laughter. He reaches over and gives me a quick kiss on the lips. Soon we are all smiling and laughing and everything bad that happened that day just disappears.

I love Greg. He is a great dad and a great husband. My best friend in the world. I couldn't ask for a better person to spend the rest of my life with.

"Emily Louisa, GET IN HERE!"

If you look over to the left hand corner of the screen you will see this:

Name:
emlouisa

And if you read my bio at the side you will learn (if you were not aware already) that my name is Emily. You may even venture to guess that my first and middle names are Emily and Louisa, but you would be sorely mistaken. Sorely.

You see my friend, I have no middle name. It is true. Upon learning this I am usually looked at with wide eyes. "No middle name? But....why not?" they ask with pity and shock. I tell them that my parents decided not to give me one since after marriage women generally use their maiden name as their middle name or initial. And I guess that makes sense. And if I liked my maiden name it might be less of an issue, but really, who wants to use H as their middle initial? Ew.

But as I was growing up the 'rents soon realized something. It is hard to get the point across when you are yelling just a first name. My sister is Lori Dee, my brother Jeffrey Glenn, my other brother is Andrew Steven. My sister Samantha and I have no middle names and therefore payed less attention when were getting yelled at. My mom came up with a solution for this. I became Emily Louisa.

First it was Emily Lou and Samantha Lou. Probably after my Aunt, who is Norma Lou. (And before you ask, yes, it is an actual name. I wouldn't mock either because she can probably take you. She's one tough broad.) Then Emily Lou became Emily Louisa. I am assuming it has something to do with being the freckle faced, stringy brown-haired child instead of like my sister Samantha with her bouncy blonde curls and toothy grin. She always got to wear pink and purple. I always wore blue and mint green. She was Mary and I was Laura. Not that I'm bitter.

Anyway, so when Mom yelled it was always "Emily Louisa, GET IN HERE!" My brothers and sisters thought it was hilarious and mocked me all the time. Growing up I always acted like I hated Louisa but secretly I did not. I liked having a middle name, even if it wasn't real. It set me apart from the other five hundred fifty thousand Emilys that I have met in my life. (And yes, there are really that many) Sometimes when you are a kid that's all you need.

So thanks Mom. It was a little late, but you made it out of that department unscathed. I would go down to the courthouse and make it official but I don't want to deal with the Laughter-Behind-The-Eyes I would get from the clerks for wanting Louisa as a middle name. I've suffered enough mocking for it already.

So I guess I'm a Mom.

Well duh. I knew I was a mom when I carried two children for a total of 16 1/2 months. (the first was 6 weeks early) But I'm talking about the stereotypical mom with the 2.5 kids, the house in the suburbs, the Mom Haircut, the too-big diaper bag, the double jogging stroller, and the minivan. Oh, and don't forget the Mom Jeans.

Out of that list I have most of those things. I have 2 kids, but no .5. Hopefully that won't occur for a long long time. If you talk to my husband it will NEVER occur, but don't you worry your pretty little head about that. I will gradually break him down. I have the house in the suburbs. I am not sure what a Mom Haircut is but I think I may have that too. Do I? Be honest now. My diaper bag? Too darn big. Ask my mother. She told me so just last week.

And it was while I was pushing my double jogging stroller for the first time that it hit me. Oh my gosh, I have TWO kids. We are a family of
FOUR. This is my life now, cleaning up spilled juice and vacuuming up goldfish crackers, each of which have been carefully placed on the carpet then pounded with the Pound-A Ball Hammer by my two-year-old. I had to go home and lie down. (Lay down? I never know these things)

You know what though? I like it. Sure there are times when Greg gets the "WHEN ARE YOU COMING HOME?" call early in the day (10:23 am) but most the time I enjoy being home with the kids. I actually enjoy mopping the floor. I don't mind doing laundry. (It's the folding/putting away part I'm not too fond of) I like kissing owies and giving reassuring hugs all day long. I like being their soft place to fall. I hope I can always be the one to do it.

The two things on the list that I do not have: A Minivan* and Mom Jeans.

Minivan. The word spills from my mouth much like I would say "Septic Tank Leak" or "Festering Boil". There is some rebellious streak in me that deep down screams "NO WAY, GIRL. NEVER! DON'T DO IT!" I know that when I reach the point of Minivan-Wanting that I will have completely and totally succumbed to Momdom. l have given a solemn vow to my friends that I will never own one. They all laugh at me and tell me not to fight it. That I will have to give in eventually. But they do not understand the level of hatred I have for the things with their sensible Stow and Go Seating and their Captain's Chairs. It runs deep, very very deep. I will stick with my Soccer Mom SUV and that will be "Mommy" enough for me.

And the Mom Jean thing? I'm not even going to go there.

So my life as a mom. The messes never end. My house is never clean, the laundry is never done and the pile of books I have been meaning to read is now reached towering proportions. (Note to self: Unpile the books before A decides to topple them and place goldfish crackers between the pages of books that are NOT yours.) But I love it and I love my kids. I have a good life. I am blessed.


*My sincerest apologies for all those who own minivans and love them. I do not understand you, but respect your choice. Well, kind of respect your choice.

Tag...I'm It!

So apparently I've been tagged. I do not really know what this means only that I am supposed to write about some specific things. I am not sure what happens if I don't but knowing these ladies it is bound to be very, very bad. Like Slashing My Tires Bad. They are that mean. So here goes it:


Seven things to do before I die:

--Convince Greg that going to Hawaii would not kill him
--Actually GO to Hawaii with him
--Learn how to sew so that I don't have to throw away clothes that lose their buttons. My mom would be so disappointed in me.
--Take a photography class
--Run a 5k. It might not seem like a long way for most people, but if I tried it in the state I am in right now I would definitely die.
--See the sites on the east coast. You know, the historical ones. Like the Liberty Bell and the White House.
--Raise my boys to be respectable, decent human beings.


Seven things I cannot do:

--Stop myself from eating two brownies if given the option. I know I should stop at one but...impossible.
--Think that socks and sandals are okay. It's just not right. Sorry, Greg.
--Wean myself from "checking my email" 85 times a day. ("Checking My Email" means that I am going to go check all the forums I post on. This could take hours, really.
--Like mushrooms, mustard or any kind of seafood. Really people, I've tried. They are all just nasty.
--Like Aaron Neville. 'Nuff said.
--Not rub my feet together when I am trying to fall asleep.
--Have a baby vaginally. (Stupid friggin' cervix...grrr)
--Watch George W. Bush give a speech without rolling my eyes.


Seven Things that Attract Me to My Spouse(not necessarily in this order!):

--His hair. It was the first thing I noticed about him
--His fine sense of humor
--His Intelligence. He can figure anything out and he is just smart, smart smart.
--The Beautiful Blue Eyes
--The way he listens. No one has the patience to listen to me like he does.
--The fact that I am in here blogging and he is in the other room picking up toys
--He is a spectacular dad. The kids love him so much and so do I.


Seven Things I Say Most Often:

--A, NO!
--I said NO!!
--One more time and you are sitting on the Naughty Spot
--Okay, Naughty Spot Time
--I Love you!
--Friggin'
--I'm going to "Check My Email"


Seven books I love:

--Angela's Ashes
--The Harmony Series
--Cane River
--The Little House on the Prairie Series
--The Book of Mormon
--The Kite Runner
--Children of the Promise Series


Seven movies I could watch over and over again:

--While You Were Sleeping
--My Best Friend's Wedding
--Sound of Music
--Gone With the Wind
--Footloose
--The Parent Trap
--You've Got Mail


People I want to join in:

--Alicia
--Julie


Yeah, I cheated on that last one. He he.

So now you know a little bit more about me. Hang on to your hats cause there is much more to come!

Moo! MOOOOOoooo! Following the Herd

Yeah, that’s the sound of me, following the herd and entering the world of Blogdom. I thought about doing a blog a few months back when I realized that really, nothing exciting happens to me. At least nothing so noteworthy that it would necessitate publishing in the Digital World.

Wouldn’t you know all it took was some peer pressure. One person who said, “Um, Emily, quit being a pathetic blog lurker and write your own!” A seed was planted. I argued with myself all night long. (It was not, however, keeping me up at night. I have children to do that much)

After much consideration I decided to jump in. Yeah, my life isn't all that interesting but I can still think of a few things to write about. Plus blogging involves two areas that I am quite skilled in.

1. Sitting at this computer chair
2. Going on and on about things

Yes, I am a follower. A lemming. A cow. But at least I’m in good company.