I Blame the Kids

Not that I'm making excuses, but this is why blogging is a struggle for me each evening.

Here's a pretty typical glimpse of what goes on at my house when I sit down to blog:

Tonight, when we got home from church, I sent Buttercup upstairs to get ready for bed, Princeska to the dining room to finish her math homework, and Bass-Man upstairs to take a shower (how do teenage boys get so sweaty at BIBLE STUDY???).  Thinking I had a few minutes, I sat down at the computer to blog.  I, quite literally, didn't even have the web address typed in before it began...

Buttercup:  Mom, if I take headache medicine, will I have to go brush my teeth again?  (Seriously?  How good of a job can she possibly have done in 2.5 seconds?  Anybody know of any speed brushing contests I could enter her in?)

Me:  Do you have a headache?

Buttercup:  Yeah.  Wait...that's when your head hurts, right?

Me:  Yes. And, no, you won't have to brush again. (Yeah.  I caved as fast as she brushed.)

I get up and we walk into the kitchen where I pour her EXACTLY the right dose of children's ibuprofen (her teeth may rot out, but her liver will be just fine, thank you).  She verrrrryyyy slooooowwwwlllyyyy slurps the berry flavored goo out of the cup and then runs her tongue around the inside several times just to make sure she got it all.

Me:  Do you want to go watch a movie for a little bit?  Just until Princeska finishes her homework?

Buttercup:  Yes!  I know exactly which one I want!

I linger in the living room while she selects her movie, then I put it in for her.  Of course, she's chosen a VHS tape is all the way at the end.  As our ancient VCR grinds, squeals, and rewinds the movie so slowly a 90 year old sloth would get impatient waiting for it, Buttercup launches into a story about one of the little girls in her TeamKid class who doesn't recognize her even though they are VERY BEST FRIENDS.  I have surprisingly little wisdom to offer her, but I listen and I comfort.  FINALLY, the animated version of "The King and I" (which is every bit as awful as you are imagining) is fully rewound.  I start it up for her and then head back to my blogging.  

I managed to get signed in before...

Buttercup: (appearing at my elbow with the stealth of a mini ninja) Mom?

Me:  Yes? (I'm not gonna lie...I didn't even try to disguise my irritation)

Buttercup:  Are you doing anything terribly important?  (YES, my 5 year old really DOES talk like that.)

Me: (please insert long-suffering sigh here) What do you need?  (notice that I neither confirmed nor denied the terrible importance of blogging, thus retaining my right to declare its importance or frivolity based on her request...feel free to use that)

Buttercup: (who has sidled right up to me and is now leaning her head on my shoulder and running a hand up & down my arm...feel free to use that, too) Would you turn the fan off?  I'm getting chilly.

Me:  Sure.

I enter the living room and briefly consider pulling the ceiling fan chain until the fan is off but the light is still on, but abandon that idea out of pure laziness.  Instead, I walk all the way across the room to turn on a side-table lamp, then walk back across and shut off the fan/light combo with a flick of the switch.  Which, in retrospect, saved me neither time nor effort.  

Buttercup:  Aaahhhh!  That's so much better!

Me:  (turn around and get 3 whole steps)

Buttercup:  Mom?  Would you get me a cold cup of water?  (for reasons the rest of us don't understand and Buttercup declines to explain, she ALWAYS specifies that her water be cold...the request for a twist of lemon is probably just around the corner...after that, she'll be asking for "sparkling" or "flat")

Me:  (heavy sigh) Sure.

Buttercup: (calling after me as I walk into the kitchen to fulfill her majesty's wishes) And, no...I don't already have a cup somewhere.

I fetch and deliver Buttercup's water and sit back down at my computer.  Of course, at this point, I no longer remember the topic of the brilliantly witty blog that I originally sat down to write...I stare at the screen for a few minutes, then type out and subsequently delete several lame blog titles such as:  "My Day,"  "Blog Rhymes With Fog," and "Nothing Rhymes With Wednesday."  Clearly, titles aren't my forte, but, in my defense, you should probably have some idea of your topic before you try to come up with a title.  I started to mull over my day, trying to generate a blog topic more interesting than the massive amounts of laundry that occupied most of my time, but then Bass-Man walked in...

Bass-Man:  Hey, Mom!

Me:  Hey, Bub.

Bass-Man:  Are you feeling any better?  

Me:  Not really.

Bass-Man:  Are you using your phone?

Me:  No. (Here's a tip, fellow i-phone owners:  if you want to be able to put your phone down for more than 2 seconds without it disappearing and you have even one i-phone-less, i-pad-less child at home, do NOT download Minecraft.  Seriously.  I cannot emphasize that enough. DON'T DO IT.)

Bass-Man disappears with my phone and Buttercup re-appears at my side.  Honestly, they had to have crossed paths.

Me:  What's up?

Buttercup:  Oh...nothing...it's just...do you know anything about the school library?

Me: No. (I'm not proud of it, but I was hoping that would dissuade her from asking me whatever it was that she clearly wanted to ask me.)

Buttercup:  What would you do if everybody else in your class got a bookmark at the library except for you?   

Me:  Everyone got one but YOU??? (breathe, mama-bear, breathe...)

Buttercup:  Well, I don't know if it was EVERYONE, but I asked Leah and Karlee and they said she didn't just give you a bookmark, you had to ask for it...but we were already back in class when I noticed they had them, so I couldn't ask for one.

Me:  (urge to kill subsiding) Oh!  Well, I would just go ask for one the next time...okay?

Buttercup:  That's a whole week, Mom.

Me:  Maybe I have one you could use...or, maybe we could make one.  

Buttercup:  Can we make one?

Me:  Of course!

Buttercup:  Can we make it tonight?

Me:  (considerably less enthusiastic) Of course.

Buttercup and I raid the craft supplies.  I set her up at the table with paper, scissors, markers, and stickers.  Meanwhile, her movie is playing to an empty living room...but I'm not going in there to turn it off!  The ideal topic for tonight's blog has hit me...I'm going to be writing about the multitude of interruptions that I have to deal with when I try to do ANYTHING.  And I'm going to use tonight for an example!

I eagerly sit down and type out the title.

Princeska:  Mom?

Me:  Yes?

Princeska:  I'm finished with my homework except for one page.  I have to have a supervisor time me and listen while I do these problems...can you do that?  Or???

Me:  Sure...Bass-Man?

Bass-Man:  Yeah?

Princeska:  What did you say?

Me:  I'm talking to Bub!  I need to use my phone for a minute.

Bass-Man:  Okay...(not moving from the couch)

Princeska:  I have to do them all in THREE minutes.

Me:  Okay...

Princeska:  You said ONE minute.

Me:  (with Bass-Man in the living room and Princeska in the dining room, I'm looking back & forth like I'm watching an intense tennis match)  I was just saying that I needed to use it for a little bit...I didn't necessarily mean one, exact minute.

Bass-Man:  What?

Me:  Not you, Princeska...I need my phone!

Princeska:  I don't have it, Bass-Man has it!

Bass-Man:  Okay...(FINALLY walks in and hands me my phone)

Me:  Thanks.

Princeska:  For what?

Me:  NOT YOU, YOUR BROTHER.

(Bass-Man gives me a concerned look, like he's worried about my sanity...apparently my kids can't hear the precise frequency of each others' voices)

It went on and on, my friends.  A full two hours have now passed since I initially sat down to write this blog!  I have been interrupted approximately 10,000 times and have had to leave the computer 879 times. I have answered questions, listened to stories and complaints, offered advice.  I have put in movies, initiated crafts, and timed homework.  I have gotten drinks, found missing papers, and pulled out leftovers (poor J didn't get supper tonight).  And, FINALLY, I have blogged!

I. WIN.

Front-Yard Family Football

Just about every night when Jason gets home, Princeska starts begging him to play football with her in the yard.  Just about every night he (being the fantastic dad that he is) ends up outside, in the front yard, playing football with as many of us as he can talk into coming out to play.

Tonight, I wasn't going to go out.  I haven't been feeling the greatest, so I was planning on recouping after supper (you know you don't feel good when you need a rest after a 45 minute meal prep).  I even sat down on the couch after Jason and the five kids who aren't in college went outside...but the peals of laughter lured me out after only a couple of minutes.  I sat on the front step and cheered everyone on, and just enjoyed watching them play.

Tonight, the teams were Lulu & Bass-Man vs. Jason, Buttercup, & Princeska.  After a few plays, Bass-Man protested loudly, insisting that he & Lu NEEDED Buttercup.  (Because, apparently, the 5 year old is an asset on a football team???) But, no exchange of players took place.  On offense, Lulu played receiver and center, Bass-Man played quarterback and everything else.  On defense, they played a strategic-less man on man (Bass-Man vehemently points out that it's hard to have a defensive strategy when there are only two of you...).  On the other team, Jason and Princeska alternated as quarterback, Princeska & Buttercup took turns at center and receiver.  Their defensive strategy was J on Bass-Man, while Princeska & Buttercup used their unusual (but highly effective) tickle defense to neutralize Lulu.  Princeska threw the first touchdown pass to Jason and Buttercup had a long run for a TD (although, the defense seemed strangely sluggish on this particular play and even shouted encouragement to her as she ran her little heart out).  On the last play of the game, Lulu grabbed J and just hung on while Bass-Man ran the ball for the score.  Lulu had a pretty good run and probablyshould've scored (distance-wise), but, unfortunately, she ran across the street in an effort to avoid being tackled!  She may have run a quarter mile, but it was out of bounds...no score!

Bass-Man, directing his receiver.

I'm not sure if Buttercup is picking a flower or picking herself up...

Dad snags Bass-Man, but not before he gets the ball off!

Lulu is carrying the ball...right across the street!

The infamous "tickle defense."

Princeska, making the catch!

The joy of the game...

Buttercup's run to glory.

Every player in action!

Buttercup running the ball!

Where Bella's From

Bella had an assignment last semester in English Comp 1. The assignment was to write a poem titled "Where I'm From." She brought a copy home for Jason and I to read and I love it so much that I want to share it here!

"Where I'm From"

By Bella

I am from bedtime stories and hide-and-seek,

From dress-up clothes, a playhouse, and an easy-bake oven.

I am from bike rides and dance lessons.

I am from Sunday morning hymns,

From Amazing Grace.

I am from chapter books, adventures lived from my

Father's favorite chair.

I am from birthday cake,

From giggles and make-believe.

I am from a tent, listening to the rain,

Smelling dirt and pine.

I am from gloves and Clorox wipes,

Always in my backpack.

I am built of memories,

Shadows of time gone by.

Shaped by those before me,

And growing, always growing.

I love that so many of these things that my grown-up girl feels shaped her life and helped her become who she is were intentional. I love that so many of them were the result of spontaneity. I have so enjoyed watching this girl blossom into a woman. A godly woman with such a zeal for the Lord and a zest for life. What a joy and a blessing to be a mother. I am in awe of this woman that we raised. Amazed that even with all of our mistakes, we didn't manage to mar her. Excited to see what the Lord has for her and, I confess, a little sad that my little girl is so grown up.

Rough Days

My little Buttercup has been in an awful mood that's lasted for DAYS. I have had insomnia and joint pain for DAYS. This morning she hopped in bed with me at 7:15 (after I had gotten not quite three hours of sleep) and tormented me until I finally dragged my tired and aching body out of bed and took her downstairs for breakfast. Once we got down there, she didn't want breakfast...she wanted to play Candy Land. Board games are her new obsession. Sometimes she wants to play by the rules, other times it's more like a game of make-believe using the pieces to act out stories. This morning, we moved our gingerbread men (girls, she insists) around the board by twos. Our girls were best friends and had to be shoulder to shoulder. So, we moved around the board, two by two until we were nearly at the end (with Buttercup's girls in the lead, of course). Seeing that she was about to win, thus ending the game, Buttercup switched her strategy so she could further monopolize my time. She dug through the discard pile and found "beds" for each of our girls. The beds were a double card in the color of each gingerbread man. Since we were no longer moving in an orderly fashion around the game board, our game could go on indefinitely! Yippee!

And so our day went, filled with lots of begging for snacks, multiple board game requests, movies that went unwatched, and one fit at WalMart that nearly had me sitting on the floor crying along with her. By the time I ran Bubba-Man to his guitar lessons at 3:00, I could barely keep my eyes open and neither could Buttercup, although she vehemently denied needing a nap. Even before we got to Robin's house for Bub's lesson, my stubborn little Buttercup was slumped over, fast asleep in the back seat. Since I can't lift my little lug (oh how not being able to lift my own child complicates parenting), I called J and he let me bring her to the church. He carried her into his office and laid her on his couch where she spent the next hour or so napping. I went home, crawled into bed to rest, and napped for two hours! I felt much better after my nap, but Buttercup was still just a hair on the needy side. Our day ended with her supper practically un-eaten, requests for movies we don't own, one game of Chutes and Ladders, multiple requests for snacks, and lots of tickling.

It was a rough day for me. I was tired, hurting, and at least as cranky as Buttercup. On days like this it's sometimes hard to remember what a blessing it is to have this little person who interrupts me and demands my time and attention. On days when there is so much whining, it's sometimes hard to let my heart leap with joy at the sound of her giggle. On days when she is never satisfied, it's hard to stand back and marvel at how smart she is as she tries to talk me in to getting her own way. On days like these, I'm tempted to look at the pizza around her mouth, the marker on her hands, and the dirt on the bottoms of her little feet instead of the beauty of her sky blue eyes, her wild mass of blond hair that looks more like a mane, or her soft and luminous skin. On these rough days, I often forget to soak up this time and lock it away in my memory. But even on days like these, once my little Buttercup is tucked in her bed and I'm tucked in mine, I am so very aware that there are tougher things than these rough days. Before I know it, my Buttercup will be someone else's Buttercup, grown and gone. This house will be still and quiet and empty. There won't be board games and make believe and fit throwing in WalMart. And when those days are here, I want to be able to open up my memory and pull out days like today and see and smell and hear and feel every detail of them. I want to savor all of my days with these precious children of mine. Yes, even the rough days.