Everybody poops. Except when they don't.

Nothing brings more giggles to five-year old boys than poop. Or butts. Or farts. Say any of these words and you are guaranteed at least 15 minutes of relative peace as they laugh themselves sick, them farting on you notwithstanding. I think they're biologically hardwired to respond to it; the trick is making yourself scarce when it happens. And it will happen. Anyway.

Monday the kids were off school for President's Day so I was home with them. We were pretty much confined to the house as there was the outside possibility of the toilet installer coming but they had their 'new' phones so eh, no harm no foul. (I am so over Angry Birds and Fruit Ninja but have no one to blame but myself for loading them in the first place.) I should have known something was amiss when I couldn't get Noah interested in lunch. Some juice, yes, but not food which coming from the human vacuum cleaner should have set alarm bells ringing. Eh, maybe it was just that we hadn't done a lot and he didn't need to refuel. I mean, he did eat a pack of peanut butter crackers so I was sure it was just a being lazy thing.

Until it was dinner time and he complained that his tummy was hurting. As a parent, your first line of reasoning is to send them to the bathroom. Trust me. Nope. No dice. But he didn't eat and whined that his tummy hurt. And it just got worse the rest of the night. My poor baby. He's pretty tough but when your little guy curls up on the bed, crying 'Why is there so much pain?!' your heart breaks as you try to hide a smile because it's just so damn cute. (This is my submission for Mother Of The Year right here.)  His tummy was tender to the touch but suggesting that he might need to poop was met with wails of 'That won't work!' Of course not honey, I don't have 40 years experience with all sorts of digestive issues. Dyl agreed with me that he was most likely constipated so with great trepidation we gave him some apple juice to help move things along. The trepidation came from the last time we did that, he ended up puking all over bathroom and his bed. Fool me once and all....

He slowly sipped it and when it was gone was shocked that he didn't feel better. I, uh, guess I should have mentioned that it would take some time to have an effect but he was miserable so went to the store to get him some stool softener. His choices were pills (snort), suppositories (no. Just no.) or castor oil. Noah, are you SURE you can't try pooping again? No? Okay, castor oil it is. My little trooper drank it up whilst very confused by the taste.

"Mommy, this tastes like oil!"  You're not wrong buds but it will help you feel better in the morning.

Early the next morning he trotted downstairs, bright eyed and bushy-tailed feeling lots better. I only got one half-hug before he announced "I gotta go bathroom!" and tore off. When he emerged, he was a whole new boy. Hooray poop! He was also hella hungry from not eating the past day so he pretty much polished off the rest of the French Toast sticks and there may have been a banana or two involved. It's a bit hazy as I was trying to keep my fingers out of his way.

The moral of this story? Learn to love your poop as when you can't, you'll be very sad indeed. Just know that I'll bring the castor oil.

And in the fourth hour, she started work

Sometimes when you step back and look at your life and schedule, it really doesn't seem possible to complete as many tasks as what you've done in less than a third of a day. Yet they are done which is either a testament to superhuman strength and juggling ability or a complete psychotic breakdown minus the really good drugs. Pretty deep for a Thursday morning, no? To wit, my day so far (so far being 9:50 am.)

5:20 - drag my tired ass out of bed
5:26 - drag said tired ass onto elliptical machine
6:30 - stumble off of elliptical machine
6:31 - try not to fall on shaking legs going back up the stairs
6:31:30 - gasp 'Good Morning' to Dyl
6:32 - view set of stairs to bedroom with dread and possibly some tears
6:50 - receive surprise visit from Noah whilst clad only in underwear and bra. Good morning! I'm sorry honey, I'll start saving up for the therapy now.
7:00 - downstairs for breakfast with no stumbling. Hot water is a miracle worker y'all.
7:01 - smugly smug that there's an hour to get stuff done before kiddie prep gets into high gear
7:20 - realize that I haven't finished my breakfast yet. Crap. Damn you, iPhone!
7:20 - 8:10 the following happens in no particular order:

• Put away dishes from last night's dinner
• Prepare Noah's breakfast
• Unload dishwasher
• Reload dishwasher
• Prep my lunch
• Unload dryer (downstairs)
• Forget next load of laundry, run back up two flights of stairs to get it (sobs)
• Go back downstairs to laundry room (goddammit)
• Load washing machine
• Fold towels
• Prep dinner marinade
• Wash prep dishes
• Finally finish coffee
• Dig crock pot out of cabinet
• Write out dinner preparation instructions
• Find rest of dinner items
• Set out pans and items needed in proper places on stove
• Eye solidified bacon grease under the burner, decide I don't have time to give a fuck
• Back upstairs to brush teeth and apply make-up
• Prepare Noelle's breakfast
• Fill water bottles for kids

Now it's time for the kids to get dressed, brush their teeth, comb their hair, wash their faces and make their beds. Though I usually end up brushing their hair, washing their faces and making their beds. Ten minutes until we walk out the door so just enough time to throw the chicken in the crockpot, pour the sauce on it, make sure the crockpot is actually plugged in, turn it on, do a sweep of the house for anything needed for work or school, check that lights are off and thermostat is set and Noah, where are your mittens? No, Noelle, you can't wear shoes without socks today. What do you people do with your hats?! 

Out the door at 8:50, I've already been up for three and a half hours, still have a full day of work ahead and there may not be enough coffee in the world today.

But at least I can sit down there.

Obsession is Nine-Tenths the Law

For the past few months Noelle has been talking about cell phones whereby 'talking' I mean 'obsessed' with them. At least once a day she'll ask why she might need one, what she would do with one and is it fun having one. The answers are usually when she gets to middle school and is involved in activities (drama club, basketball, school projects, etc.) that we can't get to in the middle of the day, you can't use them in school but yes, you can stay in contact with your friends (and us) and yes, it's a lot of fun but personal responsibility, don't ignore the real world, blah blah blah. She's not asking- precisely - but it's clear it's on her mind. (Okay, who in the world would give a second grader a smartphone? I mean really, what would possess someone to do that?) I've resigned myself to fielding these questions for the next four years but framing it as teaching good citizenship (and reining my own use in because she'll learn it from watching me.)

Well, last weekend Dylan and I decided it was time to upgrade our phones. We each had an iPhone 4, the cheapest available two and a half years ago, and they were struggling with only 8 GB of memory, we couldn't update operating systems and half the functions didn't work. (Clearly we are not early adopters. Get off mah lawn and all that.) Knowing that we keep our stuff for a long (long) time, I researched the various options and costs, settling on an iPhone 6 with 64GB. (Thanks to it being President's Day weekend, we walked out with an even better deal than I imagined. Thanks Verizon!) So here we are, each with a new iPhone 6 in hand...and two iPhone 4s. Strangely, they didn't take them as a trade in (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so now what? If you guessed 'taking all messaging/calling features and apps but music, YouTube and games off the phones and giving them to the kids for their own systems', take a bow. They're still connected to the WiFi at home but have no access to the app store (not that they know the password to authorize any purchase. Hell, I'm not even sure I remember any more.) Of course there are limits on the use but yeah, my kids now have their own phone. I should probably delete some songs though as the explicit version of 'Payphone' isn't really something she should be listening to. Responsible parenting and all.

Can you guess who asked this morning if she could tell her friends that she has an iPhone now? Well done, me. Very well done indeed.

Headdesk.

Five is the same as Three except taller. And with more words.

You know, once Noah turned four, I thought, hey, this is it. We are done with the nonsensical tantrumming, the limp noodle-rigid board histrionics, the second guessing of the wisdom of having another kid. And four was magical. Sweet, snuggly, independent...everything you tell yourself it would be to get through the seventh circle of hell that is three. The corner, it had been turned. Smooth sailing all the way to puberty.

Thanks for setting that unrealistic expectation there Noelle.

Then kindergarten happened and I swear the drama has been upped by a factor of 10, not including my sensitive snowflake.

Let's talk about homework. He gets a packet of homework pages to complete in the week, four to five in total, so we break it down to to one page a night. We aren't talking diff EQs here, more like 'circle the pictures that have the beginning sound of /b/.' Or 'Trace and write uppercase and lowercase /E/.' Stuff he's been doing in school already and just practicing at home (see: homework.) Dylan drills Noelle on her spelling words at the same time so it's not like she's off on some magical adventure while he has to slave and toil. A single page will end up taking him 15 minutes to do because he throws down his pencil after every letter with an 'ugh! I can't do this!' which he has just done so okay. Then the tantrum passes and he finishes it perfectly happy without a fuss. Meanwhile it's taking everything in my power to drop plunge my head into the soapy dish water and scream.

What's also fun is food. We've recently informed him that we now expect him to eat the entire baby carrot as opposed the the single bite we were allowing before. I know, we're such monsters. This news was greeted with much wailing and gnashing of teeth which we ignored and went on with dinner. Five minutes later, Dyl nudges me - Noah's carrot was gone. We told him to eat the whole thing and he did. He also shoved the entire thing in his mouth at one time earning himself a really magnificent gag reflex but that's not the point right now.

But the best, far and away, has to do with anything regarding personal responsibility and not just trashing the house because forts are fun! Noelle has been asking about earning money and so we told them that they had been getting a secret allowance for a while now. Actually, I wasn't sneaking it and told them on more than one occasion where their money was but eh, it's just Mom talking. NBD. There are some Lego Friends sets that she would like that are really elaborate and hence really expensive. I'm not shelling out for that unless it's her birthday or Christmas and since both have just passed, she's got a while to wait but I did bribe offer her a deal: If she can save up half the amount from her allowance then Dyl and I would kick in the rest. Teach money handling, responsibility, delayed gratification etcetera and so forth. This took a turn towards chores and expectations around living in the house and contributing to its cleaning. In for a penny, in for a pound so Noah was included too.

See?! I did have a point with that backstory.

Well since we're now going to really seriously mean that that she needs to help out, it's only fair that Noah have similar requirements. The day we told them about this plan (picking up toys, putting away books, generally not trashing the house), I was sitting on the couch after dinner reading and Legos and various cars and action figures were strewn over the family room floor. It was almost bedtime so hey guys, come in here and put your toys away. Noah came in and gave me major stink-eye for not cleaning up. Sorry bud; I set the table, made dinner, cleared the table and washed the dishes. You're on your own. Moving on. Noelle was nowhere to be seen so he stomped around picking up a single Lego at a time muttering "This is gonna take forever!" and "Ugh! I can't believe I have to pick up all these toys!" Yes darling, it's a hard knock life you have indeed.

(I may have been hiding a big-ass grin while this was going down.)

For all that he may drive me insane, he's still my Doodlebug, my BooBoo, my yummy little guy. Five may be Three on steroids, but in the end, I'll take it.

Besides, can Three give you this much ninja?

I think not.

It's time to get resolute up in here

Y'all, I've given this resolution thing a lot of thought. I mean, who doesn't want to do life better, right? But the regular resolutions are kind of boring so hey, how can I mix it up some - things I need to do with things that are fun or out of my comfort zone. The results? Well, you'll just have to read on to find out. With no further ado, I present the 2015 Road Map to Make Friends, Have Everyone Like You, and Always Be Happy.

1.  Okay, I'll be honest; this one's a bit serious: to run a 5K. I hate running. Despise it. There is nothing that I like less than long distance running. Cross country running*. But my aunt was recently diagnosed with breast cancer so training and running in a Komen Race for the Cure event to honor her seemed like a good idea - push out of my comfort zone and do something to support what she's facing. This will be a stretch as previous running was limited to 60-foot sprints which in a complete coincidence is the distance from home to first base on the softball diamond. Funny how that works.

2. I've had two children. Two very large children. Vaginally. And while I would never trade their squishy yumminess for anything, they did quite a number on my pelvic floor so Resolution Number Two is to convince Depends to sponsor my running attempt as no cotton anywhere is that absorbent. (Why yes, I do blame Dylan for this; why do you ask?)

3. Teach Noelle how to cook. (Full disclosure: she's actually asked to do this.) And as a fun bonus, maybe she'll eat what she cooks! Only having to make one meal will be a wondrous thing indeed. We should get there by 2020.

4. Get rid of the dead tree in the front yard. This should be a no-brainer yet every year, it taunts me by mayyyybe starting to bud when BAM! Nope. Which happens right around tax time so you know that shit ain't getting done. If we gotta rake leaves, then they'd better be our own. I'm looking at YOU, creepy Russian neighbor.

5.  Generally get the house organized. And perhaps de-cluttered. A bit. In some ways Dyl and I are polar opposites: he likes 'stuff' and I just want space. Things piled on every horizontal (and sometimes vertical) surface make me grumpy and twitchy. And you wouldn't like me when I'm grumpy and twitchy. Hell, *I* don't like me when I'm grumpy and twitchy. Though that might mean purging some books. Hm, I may need to rethink this one....

6. Be a grown-up and actually communicate what I want/need rather than expecting people *coughDylancough* to just read my mind and do it. (I know, I totally betrayed all females everywhere with that one. Sorry ladies. Time to put on your big girl pants and deal with it.) The conversations I have in my head are awesome but the imaginary friends aren't going to get stuff done. Damn, look at me being all responsible 'n shit.

7. Actually finish putting together the family cookbook. It's only been 3 years since I've started this project. Uh, crap. *Waves hand frantically at family members who are reading* - This is not the post you are looking for.

8. Write more. Nuff said.

9. Try to be nicer/more patient. This always appears on my list so you can see how well I succeed at this one. Also, get off mah lawn!

Looks like I've got quite a bit of work to do so time to hop to it. With any luck we'll meet back here in December for Resolution Wrap-Up: The Search For More Challenges.

*Eleventy-thousand fake bonus points if you can name the movie.

And on the 13th day, they returned to school

As of 9:02 this morning, Winter Break 2014 was officially in the books.

Thank GOD.

I love my kids to pieces and think they are the greatest people ever but twelve days off was a very very long time for sibling togetherness, not to mention our sanity. The umpteen billion toys received notwithstanding, the days still revolved around live action Super Mario Galaxy 2000, Lego battles in the hair salon and the fight for truth, justice, and all that is pre-shrunk and cottony. The last few days I caught myself thinking longingly of those winter breaks just nine short years ago where I plopped my butt on the couch and spent seven, eight, nine, days in a row plowing through books, the only creatures needing anything being the cats and they were pretty self-sufficient. I didn't have to share my peanut butter with anyone and if I wanted to take a mid-day nap, then dammit, I took me a nap! Of course, that meant no cuddles and no marathon games of 'Life' but for the introvert that I am, it was heavenly. If only I'd known what I was missing.

But for all the text-speak and Mario Kart, I did enjoy spending the break with them - assembling all the Legos, spying when Noelle read to Noah, hovering just out of eyesight as they created yet another world in Legoland, and teaching them how to use a paring knife to chop celery for the split pea soup they wouldn't eat.

Huh, I guess I am pretty good at this 'momming' thing after all.

Now, what am I going to do with them over Spring Break?

So you want to cure your hangover?

On Saturday night Dylan and I, along with my sister and brother-in-law attended a wine and cheese holiday party at a friend of ours home. So much delicious cheese, paired with fantastic wine was a recipe for absolutely hating Sunday morning. I haven't had a hangover in a while because I've been pretty religious about alternating adult beverages with water and just not drinking that much to begin with. But the amazing array brooked no moderation as each begged to be sampled and I, as a willing guest, obliged. (It would have been rude not to after all.)

Sunday morning, alas, drove home the reminder why I had really cut back - this was not fun. But how to cure a hangover? Let's go step by step.

Step 1. Don't drink too much. Ha. Haaaa. Okay, seriously. Just no.

Step 2. Water. As in drink lots of it. Preferably with a couple of ibuprofen before falling into bed. Yeah, the failures started early. Go big or go home which brings us to step 3...

Step 3. Sleep. You will sleep. You will sleep hard. You will also wake up waaaay before you want to because your body is busy processing all of the alcohol and just being pissy about the extra work. If it's working, then you have to be awake for it too. Dude, we're a team. Just do your job and let me slide back into oblivion otherwise we'll both be hating everything...oh fine. I'm up. Time for Step 4.

Step 4. Water. MOAR WATR. All of the water that you are now regretting not drinking last night because all you wanted to do was pass out. Also bum a couple of ibufprofen. Better late than never. But hope you can keep it down because your stomach's started doing the tootsie roll and black coffee, while desperately needed (see Step 3), will do vile and evil things to you. Best to stay with the nut roll of questionable origin.

Step 5. Consider food. Laugh hysterically because hell no. But it might help settle your stomach. Doesn't matter, not going to chance it until after Step 6.

Step 6. Nap. If I could just go back to sleep, I'll feel loads better. Needed for this step however is a sympathetic partner who will not mock you when your cat screams in your face and you don't even respond. Now refreshed, it's time to try the shower. You always feel better after getting clean.

Step 7. Shower. It's lovely and magical and the effects wear off after 30 minutes. But in the window, it's time to chance eating because you like to live dangerously.

Step 8. Eat. Something fatty and high protein, slightly greasy. I know, eggs! And a donut. For, you know, energy and stuff. I, ah, oh dear. This wasn't such a great idea after all. Should probably go lay down again.

Step 9. Nope. That ain't happening; the kids have had enough of coddling your dumb ass. Suck it up buttercup. It's time to play 'Jake and the Neverland Pirates.' Ugh, still not enough, what to do, what to do.... Got it. Being in the cold wakes you up and resets everything. Good thing we have another cookie sale this afternoon.

Step 10. Stand outside grocery store for 2 hours hawking Girl Scout Cookies to shoppers. Lose feeling in hands and feet but hey! You're starting to feel semi-normal so we'll call this a win.

Step 11. Dinner. You feel almost normal so dinner it is. Chicken and rice and bread and peas. You got this. Up yours, hangover. Now it's time to reclaim my life from your clutches and celebrate with...

Step 12. Sleep. Voila, you're cured!

And yet I'm still feeling a bit 'off' today. But you know what? I can heartily recommend the Norton from LaGrange and the Coastal Cabernet Sauvignon as being incredibly delicious. Just...pace yourself.