Kids, Bastards and Opera

Grace has been keeping me on my toes.
She's living up to the title of the middle child that will always be heard.
-and I LOVE IT!

It was 7 am.
I was unloading the dishwasher and buttering toast.
...yes, at the same time.
My ears perked up.

There was a grand opera being played out in Grace and Chloe's bedroom.

"The bastard is deeaadddd!!!!


I shook my head.
Surprised so early in the morning.
Shocked at hearing the word bastard.
Happy that I have an outrageously creative child that appreciates opera.

Grace came sliding across the kitchen floor.
I paused and looked her way.

"MOM! Where's a pencil? I have to find one.
I'm going to be famous!
I just wrote a song all by myself...Do you want to hear it?"

Me: Of course. Go for it!

"The bastard is deeeaaadddddd!!!
I've cut off his heeeaaaadd!
Down goes his neck.
DOOOOWWWWNNNN goes his HHHAAAEDDDDD!!!
Soon he'll be DeeeaaaD!"
What do you think? Isn't it great?! I can't believe that I wrote such a great song!

Me: Wow!

- Time to burst my baby's bubble.

Me: Gracie, it was wonderful and I loved it! You are a really good opera singer but where did you get the words for the song?
Grace: You mean dead? Everyone knows that word.
Me: No. The bastard word.
Grace: I just thought of it because it rhymes. Cool, huh.
Me: The word bastard isn't a made up word. It's a real word and it's actually a very grown up, bad word.
Grace: Really?
Me: Uhhhh huh. I loved your song but you can't have that word in it. What else can you use instead of bastard?
Grace: So, let me get this straight...I have to change my famous song? (and yes, she really did say those exact words. LOL.)

- Chloe emerges out of thin air.
-POOF! There she is.

 Chloe: Grace what Mom is trying to say is that if you say that word in school you will go to the Principal's office. So don't say that word. It's bad.(and yes, these are the words of my 6 year old)

-Oh, my littlest voice of reason.
-Can you always make Mommy's job easier? Please?Pretty please?

Grace looks at me, frozen, mid dish.

Me: Chloe is right. Listen to your little sister. Bastard is not a word for kids to say. It isn't a polite word at all.
HERE WE GO...
- The key to success with my darling, middle child is to bring etiquette into the situation at hand.
- Peggy and Emily Post had better watch it. She will rewrite the book someday.

Grace: Oh. Ok. Chloe let's think of another word. Let's go.

My little ones walked back into their bedroom for a millisecond.

Grace was back.
Chloe peeked over her shoulder.
Grace: I know! Listen Mom, this is good.
" The pastor is deaaaddd!!!
I chopped off his his head!!!!
Down goes his neck.
Dooooowwwwwwwwwn goes his heeeeAaaaAaaaaddddd.
Soooooon he'll be deeeAAAaaadddddd!"

Me: Whoa! Wait a second. Not that either.
Grace: But it rhymes.
Me: Think for a minute.What is a pastor? Who is he?
Grace: Oh, that's right. We like pastors. They are God guys and very good.Buster is a good God dude. I don't want to say that.
Me: Exactly. No chopping off pastor's heads. That's not nice at all. You'd hurt Buster's feelings. (my kids and now our entire congregation, call our pastor Buster, out of love...long story.)
Grace: Come on Chloe.

I finished the dishes and moved on to the breakfast.
Heart shaped toast, eggs over easy (aka sunshine eggs) and sliced mango were on the menu in my kitchen.
As I flipped an egg the girls walked back into the room.
Addison was now seated at the table and curious.
Addi: What's going on?
Me: Just wait...you'll see. Grace, Chloe any luck?

The girls nodded in unison and Grace belted out the revamped lyrics.

"The Maaaaaasterrrrrrrr is DEEaaaAAAAAAAD... come on Chloe.
Chloe: The Maaaster is deeeeeaaaaaad.
Both girls: I chopped of his Heeeeeaaaddddd!

Now their arms extended outward, pleading as they...WAIT, Grace began to mimic stabbing motions at her neck and slip onto the floor. As she dropped she never missed a beat.
Chloe looked at her like she was slightly nuts...Gracie was now tugging her sleeve and attempting to pull her down too.

"The MaaaAAA---AAAaaaa-AAAaaaaaasterrrrrr is DEAD! AhhhhhhHHHHHHHhhhh!!!"
Chloe is now trying to steady herself, Addi is laughing and Grace is moaning on the floor.
"Down goes his neck. Down goes his head. Sooooooon he'll be DeeeaaaAAAAAAaaaD!"

Me: Wow. -So much better. Good job.

Addi: Seriously? Why are you cutting off heads?

Grace:It rhymed.

We sat down.
Ate some toast and that was breakfast.
Welcome to my morning.
I spent the rest of the day humming the bastard is dead.

Folders, Stickers, Drama & Gracie.

It was an emotional day...
...for Grace.

I was in the bathroom making an attempted escape.
My latest read was mere pages from completion.
Marie Antoinette was close to death...
Tap...Tap....Tap.
Mommmm?........Where are yooooouuuuuu?
The little voice trailed through the hallway, beyond the closed door.
tap.
tap.
Mommm?.........Is that you in there?.....Can I come in, please?

I could hear the desperation in her voice.
Me: Is everything alright Gracie?
Grace: Not really. Can I talk to you in private?
Me: Sure baby, come on in.

We sat in the bathroom together with the door closed. Clever Grace. She knows that time is one our side in here.

Gracie was teary eyed.
Her lower lip puffed out as she sniffled back the boogies.

What's wrong honey?

That's when the sniffling worsened and my Grace began to pace the room, arms a flutter.

"Mom, I'm nervous."
pause
"I'm scared that I'm going to get in trouble in school and I don't know what I should do."
pause
She looked at me and wiped her tears away from her glasses. 
The glasses came off.---- Uh oh.
More tears.
What could she have done?
My kid was a boogie faced mess and in a bathroom panic?!
---the story unfolds---

GRACE'S TALE

You know my teacher? Well, she has us clean sometimes...you know, our folders and our desks and our papers?...

Me...Yes.

We had to clean our papers and our folders and I don't use the stickers like some kids in my class.I don't like the sticker system. I have my own for my folder.
(stickers?? folders??)
 The other kids put some things in each side of their folders and look for stickers.

(I was confused about the relevance of the stickers but contined to listen.)

I prefer to keep my papers all on one side. I don't look at stickers.(again with the stickers...??)

Me...ok. But why do you care about the stickers?

I don't but other kids do.
(She wiped at her tears and paced...I'm gueesing that the stickers are only part of the BIG issue.)
But Mom, I got confused when my teacher asked us to clean our writing folder and now I'm going to get yelled at.
I'm going to be embarrassed and maybe cry. I don't want Mrs.---- to yell at me. She yells when kids aren't organized. That's what happens in 2nd grade! (pacing...pacing...wringing her hands...Oh MY!)

Me: She what?! She had better not!...But in truth I said: 
Oh really? It can't be that bad baby. I thought that your teacher was nice and very funny?

She is when you are good...not when you are messy or throw things out. That's what I did!! Now I don't know what to do. This is soooo bad. I can't see her. She will yell at me. I have never done anything wrong before. (...and she geniunely hasn't)

Me: Gracie, baby...If you have never done anything wrong than I don't think you have a thing to worry about. Your teacher loves you and knows that you are a great kid. What exactly happened? I don't understand. What you are worried about? Did you lose something?

WORSE.
I got confused.
(Watch out world! I'm waiting for the heaven's to open up and swallow her. -They don't.)

Me: That's ok. Everybody gets confused at times. (really wishing that my kid would get to the point here)

I got confused and didn't look at the stickers because I don't do that and I like my things together in one pile and I didn't listen ALL THE WAY and I threw paper out that I should have kept. Now my teacher is going to get loud and yell at me. What am I going to do? I HAVE NEVER GOTTEN IN TROUBLE BEFORE. THIS IS BAD. I am nervous. Can I not go to school tomorrow?(-more tears and an oh-so-pitiful look. My poor little type "A".)

Me: No...you'll be fine baby. You just need to explain this to Mrs.----. It's not that bad. REALLY>>This can be fixed.

Grace was now bawling.

You don't understand. My teacher was not born to yell like Italian people...(we have Italian neighbors, what can I say?) - but she yells when kids don't listen. 

Trying to hide my smile I responded,"What kind of papers are missing?"

Almost all of them. Those custodians are very fast! (HUH?!) I rescued 2 from the garbage (Oh no.)but I couldn't find the rest. Mr.---- says that the custodians clean everything, even the floors! I think they snuck in and cleaned when I ate lunch!
WAIT.
BACKTRACK.
DID YOU SAY THAT YOU WENT THROUGH THE GARBAGE GRACIE?

Yes.

Me: Weren't there boogies and icky things in there?

No. Not yet. I am usually the first person to get organized. I am faster than the other kids so it was clean garbage. I looked. Only papers. No boogies. And I washed my hands with soap after. (This was said proudly with a puffed out chest. -Hooray for clean garbage?!)

Me: (wanting to laugh because my little girl had on such a straight face and was very animated) Ok..then. I'm glad that you checked first. Please don't go in the garbage again though...ok? It's kinda gross honey and you should really just tell the teacher next time.
Grace looked at me as if I had 5 heads and was speaking jibberish.
Obviously I didn't understand where she was coming from.  

Jim: (from the kitchen) Did I hear that Gracie dug through garbage?!

Yes Daaaddd! I was looking for very important papers and don't worry I checked for boogies first and I washed my hands.

Jim: (now at the bathroom door and peering in and smirking)Don't do that again. Gross. Ewwww...

Dad, you don't understand. This very serious and I could be in big trouble. The biggest trouble ever! (More tears and boogies)
Me: (wink...wink...off to the side in his direction) YES DADDY...VERY SERIOUS. Gracie can explain it all to you. Maybe you can help. I tried to explain that it would all be alright (hint...hint) and that the teacher is very nice (hint...hint) and that Gracie shouldn't worry (hint...hint).

Please get the hints.

- After listening to our Grace's tale Jim said:

Jim: I don't know Grace. Sounds like you're in big trouble.

Grace: See!!! I told you!! (staring at me and then running out of the room.)

OH JIM>>>YOU HAD TO DROP THE BALL>
YOU HAD TO TRY AND BE FUNNY>>
...When will you "get" girls?
...especially the stressed out ones?

Me: Gracie.....Daddy is just trying to be funny even though he isn't. Do you remember when I told you that Daddy is just a BIG BOY, kinda like the ones in school? (Please God let this work.) Well, Daddy didn't mean to scare you. He's just super silly like all the other boys.

Grace: That's not funny at all. What's wrong with boys?
Me: I don't know. Just try not to take Dad so seriously. 

CRISIS AVERTED...DAD WAS A CASUALTY OF THE WAR ON STICKERS AND FOLDERS.

The next morning Grace woke before her sisters.
Nudge. Nudge.
Mooooommmmmm... Remember our talk yesterday?
I nodded...yes.
Well, what can you do about it? can you call my teacher and let her know that I didn't mean it and I'll be more careful and to please, please not raise her voice? I'm so scared. I'm really, really scared.
Here we go again.

The hour dragged. I assured and reassured. Her sisters did the same. 
Nothing helped.
Until I promised to call Mrs.----.
I held my cell phone in hand as the girls hopped out of the car.
I smiled and waved it high in the air for Gracie to see.
She smiled back and walked across the bus path, holding hands with her sisters.

AHHHHhhhhhh. BEAUTIFUL.
-Time to push aside the Kodak moment and speed dial!

 I assured her that I didn't feel that there was a problem. I was calling to put Grace's mind as ease. Grace was terrified. 
I mentioned the key words in my sentence...Grace cleaned her FOLDER  and didn't pay attention to the STICKERS...
SAY NO MORE. I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED. IT HAPPENS A LOT...IT'S NO BIG DEAL. I'll soothe poor Grace's.

YES!!!!! Thank the Lord!! 

We laughed and mumbled something about "the eye of the beholder" and "talk about perspective." yada yada yada.
Thank you thank you thank you.
Bye now. 
Done.

Time to make it to work....in--- AHHHHH! 3 minutes!!!

---Thankfully my school is across the street from theirs.

Boys and Training Bras...Middle School Already?!

Not sure what to do...
Don't know what to say...
I have to confess,
I don't have all of the answers!

HA.
This is such a joke.

I'm entering foreign territory.
I'm doing "it" for the first time.
This is weird.

My child is wearing a training bra.
Questions about shaving have come up.
My daughter wants her own face book account.
She is concerned about her appearance
and asks me
"MOM AM I FAT?"
She wishes that she could read a boy's mind.
...little does she know that they wish they could read hers.
"MOM, I WANT SOMEONE TO HAVE A CRUSH ON ME. I DON'T THINK THAT ANY BOYS LIKE ME."

My husband says,
"I don't want to know."
"This is chick stuff."
"BOYS ARE BAD."
...and ducks out of the room.

I say,
"You are beautiful."
"You are not allowed to call yourself stupid...EVER."
"We are all different and that's what makes this world such a great place."
"Just remember, boys are only people."
"Always be yourself."
"If a boy doesn't treat you with respect and kindness then he's not worth your time because you are amazing."
"Remember, you are Addi and you are awesome...a totally cool kid."
"Just say, hey my baby finger is cooler than your baby finger then wiggle it in their face and walk away. (as we giggle, swinging our baby fingers at each other)
"When I was 10 1/2 I looked just like you! You are my daughter and so much like me."

...we chill out, shoulder against shoulder staring at the oversized Christmas ornaments and pipe cleaner art hanging from her ceiling.

Visual confetti.

I show her photos...
The thens.
The nows.

As if it mattered to her.
---5th grader---

With all of the support that we can muster, with all of the compliments that we offer up...
Our beloved child needs to
...trust her mind
...and have faith in herself.


Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
-Will an almost middle schooler buy that?

Who am I kidding?!
I would have never!
As I re-read I want to edit.
I sound like my Mom.
But wait, there's a reason for that.
Mom's cliches and dorky statements helped.
They echo and are remembered.

-Thanks mom.

We are parents. Our love is expected. -Unconditional.
Peers and BOYS are not us.
My opinion is like a feather drifting on a breeze.
Her friends will lay a road of concrete.
Their words are like law.
Middle School is fast approaching and I am afraid for my baby.

Can I have her held back a year?!

Tricky
Tricky
Tricky
...and oh so new!
I'm not sure if I'm ready for this.
Oh wait...
I've been there already...
...But not like this.

I remember those tightly wound feelings of uncertainty...
Hell, I still have them!
Forget about butterflies.
I had wasps and dragonflies in my stomach.

My children can not imagine that there bold mama was a shy girl.
-nose in sketchbook
-paintbrush in hand
-eye peering through a camera viewfinder
-head in the dark room
-small circle of friends
...kind of a girl.

I tease and say,"I didn't become loud and obnoxious until college (which is true)."
I was just like them.
I still am just like them.
It's breath-taking.
Heartbreaking.
Miraculous.

The questions remain:
Mom am I fat?- NO
Will a boy ever have a crush on me?- YES
Can I have a face book account?- When you are much older.
When can I shave?- 6th grade
Will we, I mean she... be alright?- YES

She'll figure it all out
...eventually.

Until then Jim and I are destined to repeat this twice over. I have my Safari gear and a bathroom full of make up, zit cream, tampons, tissues, cottonballs and hair "stuff" ready for the jungle ahead.

God, if you're listening please give Jim and I our own bathroom before the teenage years strike!


Photographs:
1) Addison: by B. Westerlind, 2012
2,3,4) Grace, Chloe and Addi...the 2009 Impromptu Holiday Shoot

The Rebuild...Phase 2.

I have been in a radical warp.
A time warp.
Memory warp.
Wrap your head around and spin warp.

A dance until you drop...
Hands raised to the ceiling...
Feet raised in the air...
Laughing 'til my tummy aches...
WARP!
...I mean what else can I do, right?

Since October and the rein of Tropical Storm Sandy this has been me.
This has been my family.
This has been time sped into high octane overdrive.

2012 left in such a hurry.
13 is my lucky number and what better way to start it than with a fresh coat of paint on newly laid walls.

I was told by many that our house "got the disaster award in the neighborhood."

My response to all," Really?-- What did we win?"

The aftermath of the storm left us in a daze.
Our beloved little gray house was ripped apart at the seems and our garage teetered 2 feet off the ground. 
We adults wept silently.
My children sat in the middle of their tree torn room holding each other as their tears fell.
The beloved Fairy Tree that I had painted would be no more.
The princess castle a top the finger painted grassy scape would be a thing of the past.

From an adult perspective this sounds silly, after all, the well being of a family outweighs the demolition of a bedroom mural.
However...
If you're 6 and 7 that's not the case.
Being with out electricity was an adventure.
Sleepovers night after night was the coolest thing EVER!
Pretending to be wild cats while climbing through the oaks that lay on our property was imaginative play at it's best.

Destroying the Magic Fairy Tree was with out question...
Horrific.

Grace glared at our very friendly construction worker," WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH MY FAIRIES?! THROW THEM IN THE GARBAGE?!"

He looked toward me, confused and said,"Don't worry you'll have new walls soon." Then he walked away.

Poor guy...not a clue.

Grace shouted after him," You'd better not throw them AWAY!! I don't want new walls"  (then cried some more)
Chloe hugged Grace and I tightly. She squeezed the breathe out me while her face was silently buried in the crook of my neck.

That was a painful hug session. I cried big Mama tears for my babies.
This place was all they had ever known.
They hadn't the ability to think into the far off future and feel safe.
- That was our job.
Make them feel safe and secure while the walls and roof were torn down and the house was emptied of it's contents.
- our things.
- our memories.
-all boxed away.
-stuffed into a POD on our now crumbling, mud pit of a driveway.

Addi stood in the kitchen, favorite sketchbooks, drawing pencils and stuffed animals in hands and gave me a piece of paper.

Addi,"Mom, please read this. I hope that you're not mad."

Me...thinking, oh boy. This is serious.

The Letter--------------------

Dear Mom and Dad,
I'm worried about our family.
Our house is what makes our family special and holds us together.
Will we still be the same if we aren't living in our house?
Will you and Daddy get a divorce? I don't want to hurt you feelings.

Love,
Addison and my sisters too.
------------------------------------

I got weepy.
Turning my back so they couldn't see, I snuck into the bathroom and hid for a little.
This is the only place where I can be alone for a few seconds...if lucky.
ok.
Close the eyes for a moment...
Deep breathe...
Now another.
I don't have time for this.
Had to pull my shit together fast.
Deep breathe.
Exhale.
Open the door.
Smile.
Good as new.

I told the girls that there was nothing to worry about.
 -Brushed Addi's hair away from her eyes and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
She returned it with an "I'm sorry" and a hug.
I returned it with," You didn't do anything wrong. These are your feelings. I'm glad that you shared them. Don't ever be worried about telling me how you feel."
She gave me a mousy,"Ok, Mom" followed by a cute half grin.

We left, bags and giant suitcase dragging along, doggies in a Dog Hotel and us headed to The Marriott.

... with the promise that we could soon return.

So strange.
- but "do-able."

During the car ride we talked about New Year's Resolutions.

The girls made me aware that since the storm we had changed. Mommy and Daddy weren't as fun anymore. We didn't play as many silly games or dance as much. And we yelled more.

I felt like saying,"Mommy and Daddy are stressed out. Construction work with three kids and two dogs sucks. Taking down all that is Christmas, in a hurry and packing an entire house's contents in  a week sucks more. I could use some anti depressants or a stiff drink!"

Instead........... 

We made a promise to one another.

It was our family resolution:

When we get back to our house we will go back to being "our regular selves" and be the way we used to be. We will do more fun stuff in the new year, in our fixed house.

THAT WAS THE END OF 2012.

2013-------------

The hotel was a welcome break.
A vacation close to home.
Beds made, rooms cleaned, food cooked...
AND NOT BY ME!
Plus, we had an indoor pool and gym.
- This was a fabulous Mommy bribe.

"Girls, finish your homework and we can swim for 1/2 hour before dinner."
"Kids, if you go to bed like good girls you can go swimming tomorrow."

I loved that part.

I thought that the getting up an hour earlier in order to commute with three kids part would be annoying, but it wasn't.
Thank God.
My girlies were so in awe of hotel living that they were often up and ready before me!
Grace was convinced that we had suddenly become rich and famous...
"That's gotta be why everyone here is so nice and helpful. This place is fancy too."
She drank her morning orange juice from her wine glass each morning and chatted with "the helpful ladies."

We were able to have breakfast with Jim...
 another added other "don't need to clean the house bonuses".
Like bowling...2 days in a row!

This was the most welcomed bit of fairy magic.
Thank you 2013.
Our family needed this sooooo badly.

2 WEEKS LATER-------------

Here we are.
UNPACKING.
The basement resembles a fallout shelter and the POD will be with us for awhile.
...but it's good to be home.
Empty rooms, polished floors, fresh paint on new walls and ceilings.

It's time to make this place ours again.

By 8 pm, on our first night back, Addison's bed was planted in her room.
She had asked to upgrade.
Addi now has "a big kid" bed. 
- In other words the full sized bed from the down stairs bedroom, most beloved by Tina and Julia (our au pairs extraordinaire) is now hers.
By 8:30pm Chloe and Addi were curled up together in bed.
Grace was laying on the floor.
...Yes, on the floor.
Gracie opted out of "being squished in the middle" and insisted "that it was more comfy on the floor."
Jim was rebuilding the bunk beds in the other room...
and cursing his head off.
I read the classic The Best Nest loudly, mainly to cover Jim's potty mouth.

"I love our house.
I love our nest.
In all the world
Our nest is best!"

Every day when the kids come home from school I plan on having one more detail added to each of their rooms.
-My little Mama treat.
Maybe a re-found toy on the bed, a new shelf put up, a decal on a wall (no more painted murals in this little house) or a picture set back in place.
This will require me running home for lunch and most likely not eating any lunch, but it's worth it.


Happy New Year. 

OH! The Things Kids Say!

Yesterday I had a laugh my butt off, until I nearly peed in my pants moment... thanks to my girls.
At the ages of ten, seven and newly six, they have unique perspectives on the world...
...and on vocabulary.

My kids stay after school each day in our district's "scope" program. For those of you unfamiliar with Scope I'll define: It is an aftercare program often located at your child's school or at a local site that is "bus-able." - A true GEM! Some refer to it as the milk and cookies program. The kids are supervised by licensed educators/caregivers and have homework time (including HW help), play time, craft time, playground time (when weather permits) and are given a healthy snack.

I pick my kids up when my school day is over. On the average day they are so wrapped up in snowflake making, lego building or drawing that they beg me to leave and come back later!
That makes me want to shed a mommy tear...but I'm so happy that they have a good time there that I always sniff it away before it escapes.

BACK TO THE FUN STUFF...

Grace came running across the all purpose room, arms outstretched...

Holy! I was going to get a hug...No go aways today. --Smile.

"So Mom, I was talking to a boy."

Me: "Oh." (thinking..Boy...Hmmmm.)

"I asked him where his tentacles are and how many does he have."

Me: (Nearly choking while turning away at an attempt to control my laughter.) "Graaaacie...Where did you here about tentacles?... What are those?"

"I don't remember, but all of the kids are talking about them. "

Me: "They are?! Ooooh...but why? Can you explain this to me?"

"But Mom, wait. There's more."

Me: (Thinking, Dear God, what more could there possibly be?)

"The boy, he's over there...(pointing across to the right corner of the room at a group of boys playing Connect Four) He didn't tell me."

Me: "Well, what did he say when you asked him that?"

"The boy just stared at me and didn't say anything. Then he said that he didn't know. So I said...I don't understand?! How could you not know about your own body and your tentacles?! - I don't get it. It's gross too."

Then she turned, realizing that I was of no use to her, grabbed Chloe's arm, whispered something and dragged her away.

I stood dumbfounded.
What just happened?!

- Better yet I wonder what the conversation at that little boy's house will be like if he asks his parents ...where his tentacles are?!

Could there be a phone call in the future? Who knows. We don't know this family. I just might sit back and let Jimbo tackle this one!
That's bound to be good!

- Stay tuned for the creative conclusion of The Boy With The Tentacles!

Sandy, Sandy, Sandy...

This Sunday was like many others...
I was woken much earlier than I would have liked.
This is always the case...Two more hours some day would be delicious!
I'm guessing that I have at least a decade before this happens.

The giggles of our girls echoed through our cramped halls.
Three sets of feet ran rampant on the beaten floorboards of our little gray house.
...or was it two sets? Could someone be missing?
The dogs followed suit, barking at their heels...
I moaned, stretched and stared at our Tiny.
She was resting on her elbows at the foot of the bed.
"Mom, my tummy is rumbling. I think I have a belly ache. Am I sick? Can you kiss my head?"

Me: Chloe, you're hungry. It's breakfast time. Don't worry."

STRETCH AN ARM INTO THE AIR...
NOW THE OTHER.
good
STRETCH THE LEGS OVER THE SIDE OF THE BED.
WIGGLE THE TOES.
ahhh...almost there.

"No, really... Kiss my head please."
Get-Out-Of-Bed-Ritual interrupted.

Me: "OK Chlo. (leaning and smooching) Chloe you're fine. What would you like for breakfast? You're tummy just needs food.

Chloe: "No. I just need Moshi Monsters. Can you sign me up? Addi has had lots of time on Moshi and that's not fair."

There we go.
That's why I didn't hear all of the feet... or cries of the wounded.
The kids grow while our house shrink wraps around them.
Honest fun typically gets messy, especially in p.j.'s.
Computer fun is much more entertaining.

Addi was online, cuddled up in her warmest blanket, face aglow by the un-natural light of the monitor.
She likes to hang out in the world of Moshi. Cute, imaginary critters grow pets called moshlings in their gardens, journey to strange lands, go on impossible missions given by a little furry dude resembling Obi-Wan Kenobi and visit the domains of other cyber critter buddies.
Did I mention that there are math games in this world?
YES!
Earn rocks (this has nothing to do with drug use...glowy little stones...think  semi-precious)
Complete tasks and score high on the puzzles.
Smart, smart gamer creator people! They knew how to make the parents happy.
-  Math and fuzzy, weird but lovable critters roam our laptops these days.
- I rarely get my imac anymore.
-Jim, on occassion is allowed use of his pc.

Do we mind?...NOPE.
We monitor usage and allot what we consider to be fair amounts of computer time.
After the rigor of the school week this is their much deserved down time...mine too!
Back to Chlo-Chlo's tummy!
Breakfast was being made...
"Sunshine Eggs" and toast for our earliest to rise...
Scrambled with cheese for our oldest...
French toast with a side of syrup for Tiny...
A complicated egg white, bacon, cheese and hot sauce wrap for my big guy...
As for me, I picked as I cooked and enjoyed my flavored coffee.
French Vanilla...AAAAaaahhhhhhh.

Sunday morning bliss.

I looked outside of our cheery bay window half expecting to see the birdhouses that the girls made with Jim, swaying in the breeze.
Instead I saw my not-so-lovely, beaten and battered front yard...and what remained of the colorful houses on the porch table.
FROWN.
I poured another cup of coffee and thought... "Thank you Sandy."
Then I looked back to my kids.
They were teaching each other gaming short cuts and looking for the rarest moshi's together.
The AAAaaaaahhhhhh...n my Sunday was back again.

There is a roof that needs to be replaced...
A bedroom that requires a whole lot of love...walls, ceiling and flooring,..
The driveway is non existent while the garage is teetering to the left and raised two feet on the right...sounds like a circus act doesn't it?
Our dogged eared picket fence is now peace mealed together, looking like a pack of hounds chewed it up...
Every morning we wake to find new stress cracks in the ceiling thanks to the shift that our home made when the oak hit.

You know what?
I count us amongst the lucky.
This is all just "stuff."
It will be fixed.
What matters most are the little girls at my kitchen table.
-together
-happy
-and yeas, hungry!!

Life goes on as I pour another cup of coffee.

I had to giggle. Spell check does not recognize: Obi-Wan; Moshi; Moshlings; Kenobi: pc or cyber!

Good Mommy... Bad Mommy...imommy.

I am claiming this opportunity to illustrate what it is like to be me.
After a day of teaching I long for fulfilling moments with my children and late night quiet time with my husband.
Kodak moments run rampant in my mind.

This brings me back to a famous movie line:
"Yes, Virginia...There is a Santa Claus."

...Yes Moms and Dads there are variations of "Kodak Moments."

Here's mine.

I had been promising a sticky treat of gooey wonderfulness to my girls for days.
CARAMEL APPLES
We were drooling at the thought of them.
Life was getting in the way of our family fun.
Gymnastics...
Birthday planning...
Work schedules...
Errands...
and Tutors were holding us captive.
The kids had almost given up hope.
They were done with me.
...Ready to trade me in for the newest version of "imom."
You've heard of her, right?
You know, the gizmo that puts real moms to shame. She's the wave of the future with every gaming "app" imaginable and unlimited kiddie web time. imom has the ability to accomplish each daunting task thrown her way, graciously, promptly and with out ever raising her voice or doling out a time-out.

- Thank God she doesn't exist.

Chloe, my youngest glared at me, arms folded across her chest," Mom. We're not making the apples again, right?"

Me: No baby, we are. (sounding  a bit too enthusiastic for her taste)

Chloe: That's what you keep saying but we never do it.

Me: Baby, I'm sorry. We will tonight, after dinner. Sometimes our days get crazy and we run out of time. We'll make them...really.

Chloe: Pinky promise and say I PROMISE.

Me: OK. --- and I did as commanded.

The plans for a freshly baked dinner were ditched. I headed for the leftovers, saving 30 minutes of valuable time and giving us the window of opportunity that we needed.

Addi, Grace and Chloe had three different approaches.

Addi was being her wonderful self...Look at my photographer go!

Addi dove in head first. The thrill of the candy apple treat was too much for her to bear.
She rushed to the stove but came in last. Addi had been all wrapped up in her latest drawing and wasn't paying attention to the goings on in the kitchen. Nothing at all wrong with that...happens to me all the time!
WINK, WINK... It's what followed that sent everybody reeling.

Never wanting to be last my little, big chickie mama plowed through her younger sisters...
...and elbowed Grace in the eye!
Grace cupped her damaged eye and cried...LOUDLY.
That left me wondering,"JEEZ! WHY DOES THE KID WITH GLASSES HAVE TO BE THE ONE KNOCKED IN THE FACE?!"
Then...
Here it comes.
In true Gracie fashion she stated: "You ALWAYS do this! You ALWAYS push me and I get hurt. You need to wait your turn."

Addison apologized, not wanting to get sent to her room for being aggressive and in no way wanting to miss out on the candy fun.
She kindly said," I didn't mean it, really...sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

Grace recovered quickly.

This statement or ones like it are made on a daily basis by our Addi.
She acts on impulse and is driven by her emotions. There is nothing at all wrong with this unless you are in the middle of a growth spurt, like Addi and are rather clumsy because of it. She is my "bull in the china shop."
I remember being there. It's no fun. I feel for the poor kid...I do.
Her sisters on the other hand were not letting this slide.
This too, is becoming very familiar in our home.

Chloe chimed in...

"Addi, that was not nice! Why do you keep hurting us? You should not push people, especially your sisters. Mom, Addi should get a time out for hurting Grace...really."

I looked toward my eldest who was close to tears and utterly embarrassed...telling her not to worry, she had apologized and her sister would be fine...no worries.
Glanced at my on-the-mend middle child and assured her that it would be ok in a few minutes and pushed an icepack onto her face. She willingly held it to her wounded eye...
I swiveled left catching sight of Tiny, my youngest...arms crossed in that familiar stance, rooted in the center of the kitchen. She tapped her foot and looked my way,"Mom, what are you going to do about Addi?"

NOTHING...and please stop telling Mommy what do do. (In the calmest voice humanly possible)
Chloe started to cry
EVERYONE IS FINE. LET'S HAVE A GROUP SQUEEZE AND EAT OUR CARAMEL APPLES.
Chlo looked at me, I knelt to her height and she squeezed my breathe away with a super tight Chloe style hug.

It was beautiful.

...then I got in trouble.

DADDY WAS HOME!
The girls ran his way, candy apples in hand, strings of caramel falling from there mouths...

"LOOK DAD!!!"
"LOOK WHAT MOM LET US MAKE!"
"THESE ARE THE BEST EVER!"

I smiled his way. I thought they were great too.

Go Chloe!

OOPSY. WRONG...kind of.

Jim: "What did you do? You did the exact opposite of what the dentist told us to?! Chloe isn't allowed to have caramel apples...They could rip out the new silver cap on her tooth. Remember? Bill, you're acting like an au pair new to the job. What's up? Should we sit down and discuss what the kids are allowed to do and what they can't do? Maybe go over household rules?"

My response: "Oh no. Crap.That's right. I totally forgot. It's been a long day. Bad me. Too late now..."

No more caramel apples. So glad that she had at least one. I guess that I'm a bad Mommy.
But wait! ...I'm a good Mommy!
...definitely not an imommy.

Chloe has her silver tooth. Tiny Smalls lives on...That's her new stage name.
The caramel apples were well worth it.