Sunday, March 30, 2014

The Good...The Bad...The Proud... And the Humiliating.....

My Week.  Just a glimpse, of course.  Don't want to brag too much about the awesome-ness that is Me, but....

(Starting TOP LEFT:)

1) My raspberries smashed in the Costco parking lot.  So, you know.  I did what most logical (read: desperate) moms of 4 do: Brushed off the smooshed ones and brought the rest home to eat.  

2) While I took a shower, Morgan dumped the (Costco sized) Corn Flakes all over the kitchen floor.  (Don't zoom in.  They're Frosted Flakes. Don't judge.)  And (not)shockingly, Reese was a fabulous human vacuum.

3) I almost lost my life when this baseball lodged under the gas pedal.  Ok, it didn't lodge. But it could have.  It hit my ankle and everything.  My minivan is a "Let's Make a Deal" dream come true.  Does something exist?  It's in my van.  

4) While I took a shower another day, Morgan opened the (Costco sized) bag of tangerines and pealed just a quarter size off of each one, took a bite, and put them in individual bowls. I didn't know if I was more annoyed that the tangerines were all wasted or that there were a crap load of dishes I had to clean.  

5) This is my thigh.  This is what my thigh looks like every day.  Look closer.  See those marks?  Those smears?  Jon finally asked me, "What is on your pants??"  Um, that is just my clear indicator of how tall baby Reese is getting.  Ever wonder how big she is?  Well, her nose reaches about thigh high.  She stands at my feet, holding on to my legs, crying, and wiping her snot on my pants.  All of them.  Pants, jeans, leggings.  Snot.  On each pair.  I've never been more non-sexy.  Ever.  

6) Family dinner at Chilis!  Wait.  Why is Reese naked and wrapped in a blanket? Because sometimes you think your child needs a diaper change.  But you're not sure if you're smeller is correct.  So you lean over to take a "peek" and before you can even lift her shirt, you see it.  It's coming down the outside of her pants.  And it's up her back.  All the way to her neck.  And oh wait.  It's also clumped on the high chair.  You don't know whether to throw up in disgust or hand her a medal.  Because let's be honest.  There must be great skill involved when poo can shoot in an 8 inch radius and explode out of a shirt neckline.  The NECKLINE.  Come on.  I don't want to brag, but that's talent.  Talent I'm sure can only be claimed by her father's side of the family.  



OK.  I'm a hopeless "glass half full" type of hot mess.  So just to even out the score, here's a glimpse of the other side of our week.

1) Jon rode a bike.  My husband, who had brain surgery just 6 months ago and was using a walker just to get to the bathroom... that guy rode a bike.  Anyone lacking a hero in their life?  Look no further.  Boom.

2) Jackson (age 9) was cast in our community theater's production of The Sound of Music... as Captain Von Trapp!  He had to hold a girls hand and gaze into her eyes for the audition.  I have never seen my son more miserable.  But "fake it til ya make it" never looked so good!  :)  Oh, and Jackson is determined to learn how to play the guitar so he can accompany himself live for "Edelweiss."  Did I mention I'm proud?  Did I also mention that Taylor (age 7) was cast as Brigitta?  My heart might explode with pride.  

3) I got to take Jackson and Taylor on a date to see The Muppets.  They had asked Santa for a movie ticket in their stockings this past Christmas.  Santa couldn't believe what an "affordable" request that was, considering all the high ticket items they could have requested.  So Santa gave them tickets to the fancy shmancy "Cineopolis Theater."  The one with the leather recliners and personal waiters.  Ridiculous.  So they finally cashed those in.  Speaking of ridiculous, does the world realize that The Muppets are "talking animal puppets?"  I'm the only person I know who gets creeped out by talking animal puppets, so as much as luxury theater is a treat, I found the experience quite torturous.  Did I mention they are puppets??  Puppets!!  I digress...

4) If the frame was wide enough, you would see the back of child #2 and #3 and you would see their matching "Elsa braids."  A french braid that starts on one side and goes to the other.  This is normal for good hair moms.  I, however, am a bad hair mom.  I can do a pony tail.  And a "bam bam" rubber band to the bangs. But french braiding?  Never.  French braiding that is sideways and resembles a Disney Princess?  When pigs fly.  Well those piggies must be pinching themselves right now because I BRAIDED!  Yes, I want a pat on the back.  Yes, I want oooos and ahhhhs.  I want it all.  I'm just that awesome.

5) Taylor wrote a song.  Then made choreography to go with the song.  Then she cleared out the garage so she could have a stage.  Then she vacuumed her stage.  Then she called us (the family) in.  She stood behind a curtain. She introduced herself.  She came out and performed.  We hollered and cheered.  At the end she handed out gift bags (pictured) she made for each person.  (even the babies.)  Each one had a bracelet, a "thank you for coming" note, money from her piggy bank, and a home-made "Mad Lib" for us to fill out.  Each Mad Lib was unique.  Each note, hand written.  Each coin, a sacrifice from her savings.  I am astounded by Taylor's drive, her talent, her generosity, her thoughtfulness.  This is true beauty.

6) Our family got to spend the day with Jon's extended family at the Long Beach Aquarium.  The wonder and appreciation that children have for creation is inspiring.  But that's not why this picture is included.  You know why it's included?  Because of Reese's shoes.  Look closely.  Reese, age 14 months, is wearing Stride Rite booties.  Ones with hard soles. Ones that help her WALK.  Reese is WALKING!!!!  Reese isn't perpetually on my hip!!   Actually, this is a huge milestone.  For the rest of my life, no one will perpetually be on my hip!  9 years, 4 kids and a "snip snip" later, my hips are mine!  My back is mine.  My arms are mine.  Oh no.  Oh wait.  My arms will never be mine.  Just typing that makes my arms ache.   Ache to hold.  And cuddle.  And keep warm.  And lift up.  And comfort.  I will do that for the rest of my life.  With joy.  But this week, I celebrate the sound of 14 month old footsteps in my home.  

Now THAT is a glimpse of our week. The good, the bad, the proud and the humiliating.  Nothing like a good old fashioned dose of "Living Out Loud!"  


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