We're Still Parenting Rookies

We woke early (and blissfully unaware) in happy moods. It is Friday which for Reuben means the last day of work before a nice weekend off, and for me, on this particular Friday, means getting to go to my local MOPS group. We rolled over in bed and gazed adoringly into each other's eyes and then got up to shower and dress before the kids awoke.

As we hit the hallway, however, we both stopped and scrunched up our noses. "What is that smell?" I whispered, looking around for perhaps a dead rodent or live skunk. "Ugh," Reuben nodded in agreement. "I don't know." He began a thorough search of the upstairs bathroom and two guest rooms while I raced downstairs to see if I could smell it down there. Thoughts of backed up sewage pipes and dead mice in my heating vents popped into my head. Oh- we were so unawares.

I came back up to report that the awful smell was only detectable upstairs. Reuben reported that he couldn't find the source of it. Not wanting to be late to MOPS, I showered, dressed, nursed our now awake son and mused over what the scent could be. Reuben finally concluded that it had to be coming from our daughter's room.

"Just suddenly out of nowhere?" I asked him, believing he was wrong. "Well, maybe it's her diapers." He insisted. "We have a diaper genie." I insisted. He shrugged and left the room to take a shower. After a few moments I agreed that I should at least rule out my daughter's room, but because she was still asleep I was hesitant to go in and risk waking her up. I put my son in his bassinet and opened her door ever so slightly. I was immediately smacked in the nostrils with the pungent smell, now stronger and unrestrained. I opened her door fully and spied with my two eyes:

one vomit covered toddler (oh yeah, the hair, too)

one vomit covered crib sheet

and

three vomit covered teddy bears 

Without hesitation, I swung into concerned mama/damage control mode, kicked my husband out of the shower and bathed and washed the hair of my little girl-TWICE- while Reuben ran water in the washing machine (after drying off and dressing of course) and threw the contents of the crib into the wash. The rest of the morning was a whir of temperature taking, a phone call to the doctor, saying goodbye to Reuben while momentarily wishing we could trade places, trying to figure out how to nurse a hungry baby and hold a crying/sick toddler at the same time, cursing the baby swing for running out of battery power on this particular morning, and, finally, getting two children to sleep at the same time.

What I can't figure out is: WHY DID IT TAKE US SO LONG TO REALIZE THE SMELL WAS VOMIT?

We are still such rookies in our parenting. I'm sure seasoned vets would have smelled "that smell" and instantly known what it was and how to proceed. Perhaps they have "vomit clean up kits" stationed conveniently around the house or have practiced drills for this type of thing. We? We were so unaware. Preparing for MOPS and looking for dead mice.

I hate to say that we'll be better informed for the next time because that implies that there will be a next time. But I guess I'm not too much of a rookie to know that "next time" is inevitable. (Sigh.)

Not-So-Much

Yeah, remember yesterday's post? All the love and joy and excitement about sharing my love of books with my daughter? All the dreams she will realize, all the doors that will be opened to her? 

Yeah, so, here's how she felt about all of that:

So...yeah.

 I guess, not so much.

*Note- I did not actually just casually take pictures while she destroyed a book. I took these pictures after she destroyed the book. I tried to rescue the book, but was to late.  Just to let you know.

Literacy Rich

I took Naomi (and Lincoln of course) to Toddler Time at the library this morning. I love toddler time! The teacher is so nice and great with the children. She reads a story, sings songs, and does some learning activities with finger play or the felt board. I love watching Naomi interact with the other children, participate in the songs, and grow in her love of books.

I love books, I love reading, I love words. Part of the reason I became a teacher was to share my love of reading with my students. As a teacher, I worked hard to make my classroom a literacy rich environment. I made books, magazines, even comic books easily accessible to my students, posted label word cards on items in the classroom (when I taught younger grades). I read aloud to my class each day and also gave my students time to personal read, and I discussed the importance of reading and using reading strategies with my students. I also tried to share my passion for reading! Reading opens up a new world to a child. Not only can knowledge be easily accessed through reading, but reading also expands a child's imagination, problem-solving abilities, introduces them to new situations and experiences, and increases their confidence as they learn to read, learn new words and learn new reading strategies. Children decide to be authors after reading a great book, or poets, or artists. They are inspired to be better people after reading biographies, or want to try a new recipe or start a club after reading a book that inspires them. I could go on and on and share stories of students I've worked with whose entire lives changed as they learned to read or were impacted by books read to them.

Now that I am home and not teaching in a public setting, my home is now my classroom and my children are my now pupils. I still feel just as strongly about the importance of creating a literacy rich environment in my new classroom setting so we read every day, no matter how busy or tired we are. We sing songs with books, talk a lot about what's going on in our environment, and look for daily opportunities to build vocabulary. It's not really that much of an effort because Naomi is such a sponge at this age, and its so worth it. And when I see my darling toddler loving story time my momma/teacher heart just jumps! I get so excited for the journeys she will take, the lessons she will learn, the problems she will solve, the characters she will love and hate, and "oh the places she will go" through a great book, or magazine article, comic book, or even newspaper story. I get excited for the doors that will open for her just because she can read and realizes the importance of reading.

When I look at her I remember being a young girl, staying up late nights with my mom who also shares a love of reading. We'd each be sitting on a different couch, next to a lamp, turning our pages eagerly. One particular school night, I was up way past my bedtime because I couldn't put my book down. Mom had a book out, too, that she was equally enthralled with.  Finally she said, "Trice, we need to get to bed. It's late." I begged for one more chapter and she confessed she wanted to read one more, too.  3 chapters later we finally went to bed. Tired and happy for our love of reading.  I can't wait to share some similar moments with my little ones!

Ha! Right after nap time is not the best time to take pictures for a blog. She looks super interested in this book right now!

Life's too Short to be Living for the Weekends

It's Monday. Mondays don't have a great rep. as far as days of the week go. It's the day after the weekend. Weekends mean freedom for most people. They don't have to work. They gather with friends and family. They get to do what they want to do. A lot of us live for the weekends.

One day, a while back, I found myself in the middle of a week, in the middle of that particular day (maybe it was a Wednesday? I don't know), with my toddler throwing major tantrums and my newborn crying inconsolably. Exasperated, tired, and fed-up, I wished out loud for 6:00, when my husband would be home. Then I could have help, then I could take a break, then I could rest. Oddly though, I felt a slight conviction when I made this wish.

What I had really wished was that time would magically speed up. That the remaining 3 or 4 hours before 6:00 would go by at warp speed. I wished for a fast forward. Have you seen the movie Click? Adam Sandler is given a remote control to fast forward through the parts of his life that seem boring or mundane to him, even the parts that cause him stress or that he just doesn't feel like dealing with. What he gets at the end of his life is not what he expected though- he hardly knows his children, his wife divorced him for not being involved enough, and he could barely remember the last 50 years of his life.

I wonder what we miss when we long for the weekend or wish that time would fast forward? When we look at the clock at 10:00 and wish it was 1:00 so we can put the kids down for nap, or go on break at work? I wonder what life we miss out on living when we coast on cruise control Monday through Friday and don't take the scenic route till Saturday?  I wonder what we lose when we look forward instead of stay in the present, even if the present is hard or boring or just not where we want to be? Sure, some of you will say that you'd "miss" that super long and boring meeting at work, or that 30 minute melt down your 3 year old had in Walmart, or that long and awkward talk with that woman in the cube across from you or, etc. etc. But what you're really missing is your life. And in reality, you can't fast forward through it. Do you really want to?

The truth is, life is too short to live for tomorrows. I'm thankful I have life and breath today. That I get to hold my crying baby and witness my toddler's tantrums. Cause it will be tomorrow and my baby will be 17 and my toddler will be moving out to college.  This Monday is a day, just one day in my life. But I want this day. And I want all that God has for me this day- the things I would choose and the things that just come as a part of life. I'm not guaranteed another Monday so I'm sure not going to spend this one wishing it was over.

So happy Monday everyone! Live it up!

"This day is beautiful. I've never seen it before."- The great Maya Angelou

What are your greeting cards really saying?

Today is Reuben's birthday. Earlier this week (because I am an excellent wife and I plan ahead), I bought him a birthday card.  It is this card that leads to today's soapbox:

Is it really necessary that the price of a card be printed right on it? Why is it there? What does this communicate about a) the card or b) the person who bought you the card? Isn't this in direct violation of the adage that "it's the thought that counts"?

I feel like the price posted directly on the back of the card not-so-subtly whispers a secret, not-so-hidden message.  Here's what you think the flowery and cute 99 cent "Get Well Soon" card you sent to your Grandma last week said:

"Get Well Soon Grandma. Sorry you're sick and I love you!"

But what the $.99 posting on the back of the card said was: "Oh, only $.99 huh? Well, this grandchild obviously doesn't really want you to get well and it's possible she may not even love you. Not for $.99 she doesn't. The person who bought you the  $3.49 'Hope You're Up and Hoppin' Soon' card with the special additional flap inside and the freakishly large smiling bunny on it not only really wants you up and hopping, but also genuinely loves you. Leave all of your riches to this card giver in your will."

Conversely, the $3.29 singing birthday card you bought for your friend that you were sure he'd be really impressed with really only said, "She bought you the $3.29 singing card because she didn't get you a gift but was hoping you wouldn't notice after listening to this stupid song over and over."

So, what you are probably wondering is: what is Reuben's birthday card really telling him?  It's saying, "The person who bought you this card lives with you. She knows you will read this and voice all of the appropriate "ooh's" and "that was so sweets" and "thank you so much babes", and then you will leave it lying around the house that she cleans until she is sick of seeing it around the house that cleans and then, while mumbling about how you don't appreciate all the effort she goes through to buy you nice cards and keep your house clean, she will throw it away."

50 cents.

Blessed and Highly Favored

She has this amazing laugh. So contagious, so wild and free. And the things she laughs about! A game of chase with Daddy. A game of pretend with Mommy. Seemingly nothing at all. Her name means "My Joy, My Delight, Precious One". She is.

He's got the sweetest face I've ever seen. Smiles with his wide brown eyes and nestles into me. I want to keep him just like this all day long. He's already growing so quickly and I cherish the time spent but know all too well that all too soon he'll be running and jumping and won't have time for nestling. I never knew my heart could stretch enough to fit so much love in. It can.

And he's the best partner a girl could ever want. Works all day and then all night. Surprises me at lunch time with ice cream and extra hands to help with little hands for a little while. He's patient when I'm unsure and loving when I'm too tired to be thoughtful. I loved him just a little while after meeting him. Still do.

And He's the One that keeps us all moving, keeps us cycling, keeps us together. It's Him pulsing through our hearts and our joys and delights and fears and uncertainties. It's Him we sing to, and laugh with, and cry to and seek more of. And He has blessed me and highly favored me for when I think of them what else could I say except that I am blessed and highly favored? I am.

And I am so grateful.

A Little of This, A Little of That

Thank you readers for your input from yesterday. Daniel, even though you weren't serious (and I am debating putting you on probation for your sarcastic comments) :) it would be fun to have some kind of trivia every now and again. That would definitely bring out the teacher in me!  And Lindsey! I was thinking of something just like that! You've inspired me, so stay tuned for the first ever Memory Monday this upcoming Monday! Mindee, thank you for your suggestion of putting off blogging until we all get more sleep, but can you tell me when that will be? You have children. When will I sleep again? Because even the toddler does not yet sleep through the night every night. And if we add more to this quickly growing family I don't plan to sleep for a very long time. So I will plough through. It's just that some days you all won't hear from me. Those will be the days I choose sleep over blogging or there just isn't anything coherent to say.

On Wednesdays I want to try either a Less-Words Wednesday or a Warm n' Fuzzy Wednesday where I will share a warm and fuzzy moment from the week. Today is Warm n' Fuzzy Wednesday and here is the Warm n' Fuzzy Moment:

Yesterday after feeding my sweet little 7 week-old boy, I laid him face up on my lap and stared into his handsome face. He looked back at me and smiled the widest, cutest smile. I laughed and smiled back, and then felt a warm sensation on my leg. Ah- warm n' fuzzy pee all over my brand new jeans and my leg. Motherhood.

End Moment.

Oh, and tomorrow I am beginning my quest for the perfect homemade pancake. If you've got a favorite pancake recipe, box mixes included, or a great pancake making technique, let me know. I am TERRIBLE at making homemade pancakes. But I have a great love affair with pancakes, so I must persist until I find the perfect combo of technique and recipe. Tomorrow we are trying Krusteaz buttermilk pancake mix for dinner because Thursday is our breakfast for dinner night! I'll let you know how they turn out (because I know you care and will be waiting on pins and needles to hear all about it).