November 26, 2008

pooh . . .

Kacey was a newborn - like maybe 3 weeks old - when an acquaintance (sort of a "friend of a friend") called one morning and asked if I could watch her children for the day. Now I’m about as accomodating they come, but I hardly knew this woman, I had no relationship with her kids (girl 3 and boy 2), but mostly, I just wasn’t up to it. (Hey, don’t judge me! It takes a REALLY LONG TIME to recover from 32 hours of labor!)

Anyway . . . I politely told her I wasn’t up to it, maybe another time.

About half an hour later she called back, this time practically begging. Seems an old friend of hers was in town just for the day and they really wanted to go to lunch and catch up. She had apparently called every one else she had ever known and absolutely no one else was available (this should have been my first clue). She would feed them lunch before she brought them and would only be gone an hour - hour and a half tops.

“Well . . . I guess so,” I replied.

Twenty minutes later she showed up at the door, and informed me that she just hadn't had time to feed them or even pack them a lunch, but that they would eat just about anything I would fix. (Lucky me!)

So I attempted to feed and clean up after two toddlers, while breastfeeding one-handed (now, this may work for some of you B- cup gals, but some of us more well-rounded moms requre both our hands to adequately accomplish this task without smothering our babies.)

Once that task was complete, Kacey fell asleep, so I took her upstairs and put her on the bed. When I returned downstairs a very few minutes later, I saw the 2-year-old turning a corner dressed in Pooh fashion. (Read: shirt, no pants.) Seems he had dropped his diaper . . . somewhere. I quickened my barefoot pace to catch up to him, when, first . . .


Then I said it.

Seems he was not only dressed in Pooh fashion, but also in poo. Which, thanks to the ripaway diaper, now covered my living room floor as well. Gross.

Three (3!) hours, two diaper changes, one temper tantrum (mine) and a $60 carpet cleaning call later, “mom” returned to collect her little angels, without so much as an apology for being late, an offer to clean my carpets, or even a “thank you” for my time.

I’d say I learned a valuable lesson from this experience, but since it has been 20+ years and I am still whining about it, probably not. :o)

November 24, 2008

This little angel could not be more precious! She has been so sweet and so entertaining and I have enjoyed "watching her" while her parents conferenced! "Emily's Event Countdown Calendar" worked like a charm - my husband says it was "brilliant". (Insert a bit of false humility here . . . but, you know, who am I to argue?)

I learned quite a bit this weekend:
1) Emily's pink socks make her feet "fwetty", which at first I thought meant "pretty" but later learned was "sweaty".
2) Emily's favorite color is pink. So much so that she had to wear the same pink socks all weekend no matter what the outfit, even though her feet got "fwetty".
3) Sunday evening's event was "Going to the Big Movies". We referred to that a lot over the weekend. Finally on the way to the "Big Movies" Emily asked me if it was one moobie or two. I told her it was just one, so she informed me it was NOT the "Big Moobies" but the "Big Moobie". (singular).
4) Emily will only refer to my husband as "Mr. Kevin's daddy".
5) Emily likes to cuddle. Emily REALLY likes to cuddle.
6) "Joe the Polar Bear" is Emily's bedtime story of preference. Her daddy makes up Joe the Polar Bear stories for her at bedtime. I had a bit of fun introducing a new character into this story. . . hope Philip knows what to do with "Freddie-Bob the big giant pumpkin head."
7) Emily can eat her weight in chicken. And popcorn. And macaroni and cheese. And fruit.
8) Tickling and giggling never get old.
9) You can only hear "Mit Tepanie" so many times before it is no longer cute. :o)
10) Emily informed me that her mommy loves her, and that when her mommy comes back she will have to leave me

. . . true, but I think I will be a little sad.

November 20, 2008

countdown calendars and the warm feet policy

This weekend I will be housesitting for my favorite people and sharing a sleeping space with Topaz the Wonder Pooch, (that is, as long as he sticks to warming my feet and doesn't violate my "stay outside the covers" policy!)

I will also have the lovely little Miss Emily with me for the weekend. She is 3 and is spending her first prolonged length of time away from Mom, Dad and baby brother "Buddy". I am also hoping my niece (and maybe even my nephew?) will show up for the latter part of this weekend!

So to intercept any "homesick for my mommy" feelings that may arise, I have made what I am calling "Emily's Event Countdown Calendar" for the weekend, with progressive photos of all the exciting things we plan to do, including McNuggets and the cowboy's horses and a visit to the latest Kiddie-Fun-Place with her best friend, culminating in the return of Emily's sweet family. I thought this might help keep her weekend in perspective and give her something tangible to pass the time. Hope it works!

I tried this with Kevin, but "Kevin's Kountdown Kalendar" was a flop.
I guess gazing at a list filled with photos of taking out the trash, carrying boxes to the car, doing an English class rewrite, and watching t.v. with Mommy just didn't hold the thrill for my 15-year-old that I thought it would. :o)

November 18, 2008

indy-GO and the mattress mayhem

Our Indy weekend involved the new James Bond, Cold Stone ice cream, a quest to find a restaurant that could seat us in under 90 minutes, an extensive tour of downtown Indianapolis (beautiful architecture and history, but not much in the landscape department), sleeping late, napping after sleeping late, going to bed early after napping and sleeping late, caramel apple cider at daughter-face's new work establishment , and visiting the church Kacey & Nathan have decided to be part of. (Yes, I am aware I ended that sentence with a preposition. I tried wording it numerous other ways, but "of which they have decided to be a part" just wasn't cutting it for me. My deepest apologies to all whom I have offended.)

Preparation for the weekend trip involved Kevin climbing into our attic to get his sister's Christmas tree at her request. After initial searching, Kevin was unable to locate said tree. I informed Kacey via text that her tree may have been the one we planted in someone's yard last year as a practical joke. (Trust me, this was hysterical.)

Facing the fact that she might not have her beloved tree, Kacey replied, "Sheesh. Some Christmas this is gonna be. I feel like Charlie Brown."

Upon reflection, I realized it was the BIG tree we had prank-planted and hers was definitely here. I sent Kevin on another hunt. Still, nothing. Then I remembered, "Oh, yeah, you're sending a 15-year-old boy to look for something he doesn't want to find!" So I told him I would keep sending him back to the attic until he found it. AMAZINGLY he found it on the very next trip.

In anticipation of our visit, Kacey borrowed an air mattress so we would have a comfy place to sleep. They offered us their bed, but we declined and said we were happy to sleep on the air mattress. And then I remembered . . .

(Mom and Dad, please forgive me in advance for the story I am about to tell!)

When we lived in our little one-bedroom apartment in Georgia, my family came to visit and brought an air mattress with them. My sister slept on the couch and we inflated - manually - the balloon-bed on which Mom and Dad would sleep. And when I say "manually" I mean "orally". Yep. No vacuum inflaters back then. Not even a measly little foot pump. We huffed. And we puffed. And we huffed. And we puffed. And we blew that giant overpriced pool float right up. . . over the course of, say, two or three hours.

Some time later we were all sleeping peacefully in our respective beds when the apartment complex came under attack. In the wee hours of the morning we were awakened by an explosion akin to a sonic boom or an 8.2 earthquake:


It hit us so hard we literally screamed ourselves awake. "WHAT WAS THAT?! ARE YOU OKAY? ARE WE UNDER ATTACK? IS EVERYBODY ALIVE?" I ran the 5 steps from my bed to the living room to witness the following: the air mattress had exploded, Dad was lying FLAT on the floor, Mom was draped over him like the wreath on a winning racehorse, and the remaining air (and saliva) in the mattress was poofing out past their toes. Recalling this story still makes me laugh out loud.

I'd give anything to have an actual photograph of "Ground Zero" following this mattress-mayhem, but then again, the mental picture in my head is so worth these thousand words.

November 17, 2008

indy-pendent . . . part 1

We went to see "the kids" this weekend. Nathan & Kacey moved to Indianapolis about two months ago, so we took a rare free weekend and make the 5-hour trek northward.

First, Kacey began texting on Friday morning. Dozens of texts throughout the day: "Are you packed? Are you ready? Are you excited? When are you gonna get here? Get OUTTA BED AND GET IN THE CAR WOMAN!!! When are you leaving? Mommy!!!!!!! Are you STILL in bed? Get up and go to work and then come see meeeeee! Oh, my goodness!!!!!!!!! Have you left yet??????? Come on, Mommy!!!!!"

I have to admit, it's nice to be wanted. :o)

Once we were on the road there were only a few essential texts from her:
1) because she knew I would be the one driving; and
2) because her dad is textually incompetent.

The last text was "Are you guys close?" To which we responded, "Yes, we feel we are a very tightly-knit family." She responded with sarcasm which communicated to us that was NOT what she meant. Ten minutes later we were enjoying a dinner of pork tenderloin, sweet potatoes, pineapple, broccoli and rice. This kid who used to need help adding water to her Ramen Noodles has become a competent boiler-baker-biscuit maker! She also made a "big breakfast" Saturday morning using every kitchen-gadget-wedding-gift known to man - waffles, coffee, biscuits, eggs, and the promise of fruit smoothies (which we somehow never got around to making. Maybe next visit.)

It's time for my Monday lunch with you-know-who, plus guitar lessons for Kevin, new shoes for me (preferably some that will help me remain in an upright-and-locked position), and tutoring with the Seifert clan. More later!