Ten Ways...

...to tell if you're the parent of a young child: 1) You open your purse looking for your wallet and have to weed through teething toys, pacifiers, bottle covers, and miniature cars. 2) You always carry diapers and wipes (for the emergency change) even if you're just running to the store for a gallon of milk. 3) There are half-drunk bottles of infant formula, sippy cups of juice, random pieces of half-eaten fruit, and other edibles that have somehow managed to find their way under the seats of your car (or your couch) so that you don't find them until you're desperately searching out where the foul smell is coming from. 4) There are crumbs of unknown substances in, on, and around every surface of your car, your couch, your carpet... 5) You walk through the living room at night, in the dark, step on a small toy and then jump around in pain swearing silently and praying you don't wake up the children who are actually, finally, asleep. 6) You haven't showered in three days. 7) You no longer have an issue with wiping someone else's nose and really getting in there to remove whatever is lodged inside. This does not include the occasional "thing" the child might decide should be there (pea, peanut, Lego) just to see if it "fits". 8) You poke through poop in the toilet hoping to find the object (penny, dime, Lego) that was swallowed 24-48 hours ago and rejoice when it appears! 9) You absolutely cannot leave the house without about three different bags which include things like crackers, extra clothes, juice, toys, food, books, blankeys and a multitude of other little things. These bags are heavy. Pair them with a child that needs to be carried and you've got to be one strong human. 10) You look like you just rolled out of bed every day of the week, even if you spent an hour getting ready, because kids just have a way of doing that to a person. Love 'em anyway, tho. TTFN JMS (Yes, I wrote this - I did not pull it from anywhere else and "repost" it here. My words. From my brain. Scary, eh?)

Warm Weather & Noisy Neighbors

It is finally starting to get warmer outside. For the past several days, we have been able to enjoy the beautiful weather by leaving our windows open. This has not only allowed us to turn the heater off, but it has sweetened the winter-stale air inside our house. Also, we’ve saved several days worth of heating and cooling costs on our utility bill (although I doubt we’ll see much difference when said bill arrives in our mailbox). When we moved to this house back in October, we were both amazed at how quiet the neighborhood is. (Except, of course, for the train that runs behind the houses across the street – which I secretly love to listen to...unless it’s 3AM and being driven by the sadistic conductor who thinks it’s amusing to blast the whistle through the entire neighborhood.) Now that the temperature is on the rise, and we’ve had the windows open, I’m noticing that the neighborhood isn’t as quiet as we first thought. Aside from the two children who spend an enormous amount of time outside, in the street, on their big wheels or bicycles or just running and yelling at the top of their lungs just because they like to hear themselves, there are other things I’ve yet to get used to.

• The three-or-so cars that live at the end of the cul-de-sac which are each suffering from muffler issues, and the visitors to that end of the street who have purposefully loud vehicles with equal irritation factors.
• The fifteen (exaggerating here) tiny Chihuahua dogs that yip and yap inside the house behind us.
• The one stumpy-legged puppy with a complete lack of respect for property boundaries and a complete lack of fear of anyone trying to “scare” him off said property.
• The pit-bull dog that lives in a pen in the yard of the house behind us who barks incessantly when his mommy or daddy is outside for any reason.
• The two boxer dogs in the yard next to us who (though they are beginning to get used to seeing us) bark viciously, drool madly, and attempt to jump the fence.
• And last but not least, the couple across the street who scream at each other so loudly while shut up inside their house that I can hear them clearly in my own.

I guess this is just neighborhood life. Still I keep wondering if these things are police-worthy. Probably not. I would say that if I called the police department with a complaint about any one of the above issues, they would say, “Hey lady? We’ve got better things to do. How about shutting your windows?” Yeah. No offense...but go find a donut shop. TTFN

JMS

Overheard at work

"I'm not twelve, and I don't want to look like I am." (RK during conversation at lunch. Trust me, you don't want to know. Oh, and I told her I was going to post this so she can't complain!)

Writing to write

The other day, someone made a comment to me about the randomness of my thoughts when referring to my blog. I told them, “That’s why I call the blog ‘Random Ramblings’.” Makes perfect sense to me. I can’t help what I think about or what needs to come out when I open up a new, blank document and put my fingers to the keyboard. Sometimes I just sit there with my hands resting on the keys patiently waiting for inspiration to hit, and then feeling more than frustrated when it doesn’t. Sometimes, I think, “Oh...I need to write about that.” (A good example is the post about squeezing the soda bottles.) Sometimes I just write about something fun, or something cute the kids did or said. I have no flow. I have no guidelines. I just write. Most of the time, I don’t have to force it. But, there are times when I do and I write anyway, because to not write would be bad. There are days, sometimes multiple days in a row, when I don’t write anything. That can be either because I’m not feeling inspired and I know that I would be forcing my creativity (whatever), or because I simply don’t have anything to say, or because I’m extra busy and don’t have time. I’ve not really had time lately. You can see that by the fact that most of my recent posts have been rather short...for me. Anyway – today is one of the days when I don’t really have anything to say, but I need to write anyway. Hopefully I haven’t bored you to death. But, I’ve got to write – even nonsense. TTFN JMS

No Flowers For You

This is the first time since I became an Administrative Assistant that I have not gotten flowers on Administrative Professionals Day (today). Leave it to my boss to quit the week before... It's like sweethearts that break up just prior to Valentine's Day! (Bad analogy, but you know what I mean.) Oh well, I'm not complaining. I was definitely taken care of today by others who I work with and it's been a good day. And plus, I was around a lovely bouquet of flowers for about 30 minutes and all it did was make me sneeze. I guess blessings do come in unexpected packages. TTFN JMS

To Squeeze or Not to Squeeze...

There is a silent debate, nay, argument, happening at my house. It’s something I’ve run into before in my life, and first encountered in my next-door neighbor’s refrigerator many years ago when I was growing up in CT. OK, don’t laugh. Some theorize that if one squeezes a 2-liter soda bottle after one pours but before one puts the cap back on, the soda will stay fizzier once said bottle is resealed. I disagree. I say that the squeezed bottle gives the carbonation in the soda room to expand within the confines of the container and therefore allows the soda to go flat. What say you? TTFN JMS

Coins, Visits & Jewelry

Kiddo swallowed a penny on Thursday. He was absolutely terrified when it happened so we didn’t get too angry with him; he was punishing himself enough. Since he only knows that a penny is “money”, he didn’t understand the word “penny” and kept referring to it as a male body part. I repeatedly tried to correct him, but the light bulb did not go on. (Note to self: start working on his understanding of money.) I took him to school on Friday morning, and warned his teacher that not only had he swallowed the penny, but that they should, please and thank you, keep an eye open for it if he needed to use the bathroom. I also explained to his teacher that if he spoke about male body parts, he was trying to tell her about the penny he swallowed. She was very grateful that I explained it. When I picked Kiddo up on Friday afternoon, no deposit (ha ha) had been made. Later that same afternoon, however, the coin made its reappearance, and was vastly different from what I expected to see! Firstly, it wasn’t a penny – it was a dime. Secondly, it wasn’t shiny – it was dark and blue and looked like it had been washed in acid. I guess I’m just thankful that he didn’t choke on it – which is my greatest fear. We had a very nice visit from my Mother-in-Law this weekend. Kiddo talked at her non-stop and was securely fastened to her hip the entire time. She took Kiddo’s bed, and Kiddo camped out on the floor in his sleeping bag – which he loved! The first night, they both went to bed around the same time, and Kiddo talked at her until almost midnight – we couldn’t get him to settle down enough to shut up, much less sleep. The next day (Saturday), he didn’t get a nap at all and when I finally forced him to lie down at 7:45PM, he was so tired that he was asleep in about five minutes and slept until about 8AM Sunday morning! My poor Mother-in-Law was exhausted just from Kiddo being on her heels the entire visit. I hope she had a good time, though. I had great fun at the Jewelry Party on Saturday. Thanks to everyone who came. Hope you had a great weekend! TTFN JMS

Red Flag City

Yesterday pretty much sucked. Sure, it started out fine, but by 1:30 it was definitely well in to the “Suck” category. I began the day in on-site training for something called Information Mapping, which I really didn’t think I’d ever need, but found out quickly that it can be quite helpful for some of the things I do at work. So, I’m learning along (learn, learn, learn), having a good time ‘cause I’m learnin’ right along with a couple of my very good friends, when our Sr. VP sticks her head in the door and beckons me come hither. Red Flag Number One. She says that she wants to put together a meeting with all the managers (the leadership team) in the office, and she needs them assembled a.s.a.p. Red Flag Number Two. Back downstairs in my boss’s office, I ask her a question about where my boss is and she says, “We’ll discuss that later.” Red Flag Number Three. So I get all the managers together (by the skin of my teeth) and when we’re all assembled around the table, Sr. VP comes in and announces that my boss, our director, has decided to pursue other opportunities and spend more time with his family. BINGO! I knew there was evil afoot! Of course, I cried a bit later in a one-on-one meeting with Sr. VP because I was in such shock and because my boss had been very good to me and always treated me with respect and never micro-managed or looked over my shoulder because he knew I’d get the job done. This kind of management style was a first with me and, obviously, I thrived in that environment. So now I’m left feeling kind of like I’m wandering alone, without direction, even though he didn’t really direct...you know? I had several people come to me to ask if I’d known about this, but all I could say was, “No,” ...which is the absolute truth. So yeah, I’d say I’ve had much better days. TTFN JMS

The War Against...

Last night, while in the process of doing that never-ending chore called laundry, I opened the linen closet door to put away the freshly folded towels only to find that there was nowhere to put them. Too much “other stuff” was in the way. All my usually organized washcloths were in a jumbled mess, somewhat resembling a mass grave of terrycloth squares. Some of the medicine cabinet riff-raff had infringed upon towel territory and were fiercely standing their ground. And, other “things” I can’t describe had claimed squatter’s rights on the shelves among the legitimate residents of the linen closet. My OCD took over. Since both my children were happily feeding their faces with a nutritious dinner, I grabbed a basket and organized the washcloths. I used another basket to confine the medicine cabinet riff-raff. All the other “things” mostly found their way into the waste basket, though they put up a good fight. When I was finished, the towels were placed neatly on the shelves – folded side facing out for easy access. I closed the door triumphantly, feeling that I’d waged an organized war against clutter. But that was only one tiny corner of my home. Today the linen closet! Tomorrow the kitchen! (Maybe...?) TTFN JMS

Quick Bullets

I watched a lady sleeping in her car while driving on the parkway this morning. Her daughter (not sure it was her daughter, but let's assume, shall we?), bright and alert, was holding the wheel and keeping the car on the road. Scary.

Little Bit wants to walk so badly but just won’t let go. I know once she takes that big “step” and releases the fingers of the ones who support her she’ll never stop and she already gets into everything. She does all kinds of stuff Kiddo never even dreamed of doing until he was much older! She climbs on anything she can, tries to get the electric outlet safety plugs out, she is loud and boisterous and constantly clingy – always wants us in her sight. But she’s not doing anything abnormal!

The load in my washing machine got all lumped up on one side last night and the whole thing jumped and shimmed its way across my kitchen (yes, it’s in the kitchen). Made me think of a story in that wonderful I’ll-probably-read-it-once-a-year-until-I-die Robert Fulghum book: All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten.

Is bacon not the world’s most perfect food?

My friend’s birthday is on the same day as my jewelry party and she’s going to be spending the day at the Spa with her mother getting pampered. Oh, how I wish I could join her! I need a pedicure. OK...I want a pedicure. Either way my toes need help.

I’ve found that my long lost twin sister lives right here in the same town I live in. I think we must have been separated at birth – except for that little thing about having different parents. Yeah – can’t get past that one.

I don’t have anything to read.

TTFN JMS

Office Humor...

Below is an email I received from a friend/co-worker yesterday. I asked her if I could post it verbatim because it made me laugh so hard. This is a classic example of how my brain works most days and why I'm so scattered - so it's a good thing I'm not the only one or I might have to wonder.

From: (name deleted to protect the innocent - or the insane)
To: Yours Truly (JMS)
Subject: Blank

Hey! I hope you are feeling better. Don’t forget to look into the mail order prescription plan. I just got a message from A/P that our mileage is .505 now, not the .48 that shows on the expense report. I’m hungry, it’s really nice outside, there were 2 accidents on 40 this AM that caused me to be late for work, I do have an apple, Larry is so cute, I need to mow my lawn because I am on the dogwood trail, WHY IS FRANCE SO FAR AWAY? JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS!!!!!! (end transmission)

This just makes me laugh. Thought I'd share.

TTFN
JMS

Cleaning Up...Again

I’m hosting a Premier Designs Jewelry Party on April 19th – and because I haven’t hosted one in almost a year (give or take a couple of months) I’m really excited about it! The only thing I’m not excited about is the cleaning part. Why is it that I cannot maintain a clean (read neat...’cause it’s always relatively clean) house? I have had two birthday parties in the last month that I’ve had to clean up for and both times the house was a disaster again in a day or two. I guess I need to consider that I work full-time and therefore have little actual cleaning time when I’m not at the office. My priority isn’t a clean house, it is quality time spent with my family. For example, on Monday we went to the park after I got off of work because it was such a beautiful day. Or, I’ll try to play with them as much as I can after I get home and before they go to bed. Sometimes, though, it’s all I can do to stand walking around, over, and through the toys that litter the living room or the newspaper that got scattered all over the floor by chubby little 1-year-old hands. The things that jingle, beep, sing, play music, chatter and chirp drive me nuts! Especially at 3:00 AM when Little Bit wakes up hungry. (She still hasn’t gotten completely over the “sleeping-ALL-night” hurtle...but she’s doing better.) Laundry (my constant nemesis) is never ending and therefore I will never stop complaining about it. It’s a good thing Hubby cooks or else we’d never eat anything! Anyway, I’ve threatened to do this before, and I’m not any less serious about it now: I’m ready to take everything we own, that we do not use on a daily basis, and throw it outside at the street with a sign that says, “Free to good home,” and have it over with. I plan to have a major yard sale sometime in May when the weather is more predictable...so that means we need to start sorting now, otherwise it will never get done. I want that 10’ x 12’ storage building in our back yard accessible by June! :) Oh – if I only had a maid. TTFN JMS

Sunny Days!

It was such a beautiful day yesterday that, even though I was tired enough to fall asleep the second I arrived home at 5PM, I suggested that we take the kids down to the park at the marina to play. Charlie brought his Kett Car and his helmet and rode for a while – trying to avoid the other people on the trail who were walking, riding, running etc. He’s great at steering, but not so great at going in a straight line! We had Greta’s stroller with us, so she and I walked a little way, stopping occasionally to point at and observe the ducks, fish, flowers, doggies, boats... It’s all so new and exciting! One lady walked by us, going the other way, and said sternly to me, “That child needs sunglasses or a hat!” As if it was any of her business. But honestly she was right – it was really sunny out and I didn’t plan ahead. Though, we weren’t in the sun for very long because the trail got shady pretty fast. Charlie quickly got tired of pedaling and Greta got restless sitting in the stroller, so we put the little car in the trunk of the Green Hornet (what we affectionately call the Taurus) and sent Charlie over to the playground equipment for a few minutes. He went up and down the big slide all by himself multiple times – and I didn’t freak out once, which is a huge accomplishment for this Worry-Wart. He was such a good boy about waiting his turn, and waiting until there was no one in the way at the bottom before starting down. There were a couple of older kids making a valiant attempt to ruin the sliding for all the younger kids by climbing up the slide and then squeaking down oh-so-slowly on the soles of their shoes. But Charlie waited patiently. He didn’t even complain when I told him, “OK Bud...just a couple more times and then we’ve got to get some dinner!” He slid down twice more and then came running over to me and said, “Mom! I need a hand!” This means that he wants me to hold his hand. During Charlie’s slide-time, Greta and Daddy were walking all over the place. She’s not quite walking yet, but she’s getting closer and closer every day. She’ll walk anywhere as long as someone holds her hand. She’ll stand in one place for a very long time, but as soon as she decides she needs to get anywhere, down she goes to all fours and crawls to her intended destination. (Intended destination is usually a favored doll or Daddy.) Anyway – we had a lovely night, and as long as I keep that in mind – I won’t dwell too much on the fact that I woke this morning feeling like dog you-know-what. Oh, the agony. TTFN JMS

The Mothering Instinct

The lake looked like glass this morning – trees flawlessly mirrored on the clam, flat surface. The few wisps of mist only lent to the otherworldly feel as I drove by in the gray light of dawn. It made me thankful to be awake, even though I was silently cursing that little thing called responsibility and that other little thing called the alarm clock. Charlie spent a good portion of the day yesterday pushing his Kett Car up the little hill in our backyard, jumping on it, and pedaling down the hill as fast as he could go before yanking on the hand-brake to stop himself from plunging, head-first, into the gate at the far end of the yard, thus disturbing the scary dogs that live there. He had company in the two neighbor kids, Hunter (who is 7) and Jenny (who says she’s three but is really getting ready to be five...we think). They all took turns on the Kett Car and the John Deere Tractor and the dump truck. Through no fault of their own, I’m not particularly fond of either of them. Hunter is loud, sounds like he was raised somewhere in the back woods of who-knows-where, and wild, wild, wild. Jenny looks dirty and disheveled, is equally as loud as her brother, and has a habit of screeching just to her herself screech. It’s all very disturbing. These kids definitely awaken something in me that I can only describe as “The Mothering Instinct.” I want to teach hunter how to speak properly (I don't mind the accent at all, just his word usage). Encourage him to sit and draw or do something else that requires him to sit still for an indeterminate period of time. I want to brush Jenny’s long, brown hair, get her some clean clothes, wash the dirt off her face and hand her a book or a pretty doll. Neither of these kids wears shoes...ever. Hunter claims he forgot to put them on anytime I say, “Hunter, where did you leave your shoes this time?” Both kids are allowed to run freely in the street and they are allowed to stay up, and stay outside, until well after dark...even on school nights. They ride tricycles, bicycles, big-wheels, scooters and all manner of wheeled vehicles in the street – right out to the main road! Now granted, our roads are not main thoroughfares, but the other neighbors come flying around the corner at top speed – half the time on their cell phones – and would probably never see a small child on a big wheel in the middle of the road! It’s all a horrible accident waiting to happen. Oh! And another thing that killed me! Hunter and Jenny’s father stopped by our backyard in his big SUV yesterday to tell his kids something and little Jenny hopped on the side rail, held onto the lip of the open window and he let her RIDE HOME that way! I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My friend Sam was a witness! It seems we’ve moved into a bit of a neighborhood drama because the woman who lives behind us says Hunter & Jenny’s father is a deadbeat with an attitude. And, although he doesn’t seem overly friendly, he does seem civil. I just think that he has better things to do than worry about his kids – which is why he lives with his parents, who are really the ones raising these two children. I’m certainly not saying these folks are doing a bad job or in any way trying to tell them how to raise their own kids – but all those little instincts in me are screaming – coursing through every particle of my being – when I see one of those kids in the street, or hanging out at the end of the cul-de-sac at the main road with no shoes and no adult supervision – or with dirty faces, ratty hair and torn clothes. I want to scoop them up and take care of them myself. TTFN JMS PS: Go Vols!

A Rare Sunday Post

It's such a beautiful day today and here I am, inside on the computer! That's not to say that I haven't been outside raking and sweeping and generally making an attempt to beautify our house's curb appeal... Speaking of Curb Appeal... I'm addicted to HGTV. Ever since Jamie got DirecTV I think it's about the only thing I've watched, unless you include the morning news and maybe a movie or two. Jamie says the HGTV logo is going to be burned into the lower right-hand corner of the television...and he's probably right. Those makeover shows are completely consuming me and I've got ideas for what I want to do inside this house running around my head like a chaotic bunch of children on a sugar high. Ok...so if you include Coca Cola and pretty much anything Mint-Chocolate, I've added another addiction to my list. I guess it could be worse! Have a fabulous day! TTFN JMS

Daddy's Girl

I'm a little bit upset today because I have a problem. It’s not really a big problem. It’s not anything that anyone can solve, really, but it is bothering me anyway. I want to begin by saying to my husband that I’m not directing this toward him and that I am not in any way upset with him, even though he is part of this problem.

The thing that’s got me upset is that Greta – our sweet little blond-headed, blue-eyed, almost-walking, almost-talking baby – is a Daddy’s Girl. That means that even though she’s happy to see me when I come home from work at night, when she’s done with the hugging and the kissing and the how-was-your-day-ing – she wants Daddy back! She cries big, fat, cheek-staining tears, turns bright red, and reaches her little hands out toward Daddy until he takes her back or until I get far enough away from him with her that she can't see him.

Last night Daddy had to go to choir practice at church. He handed her to me, and as soon as she realized he was leaving, the sobbing began. I walked out on the front deck with her so she could say goodbye to Daddy as he got into the car, and all she did was sob and reach for him. She pointed her little finger in his direction and lunged toward him and just cried her little heart out!

It’s very distressing, and depressing, for the Mommy who’s left behind to deal with the crying. She doesn’t do this when I leave. I know that I work all day and that she spends 90% of her time with Daddy. I know that they’ve formed a bond that far surpasses any bond she and I have made – even though she was breastfed. The bond they've formed is called, "Fun." But it still hurts. I want her to cry for me! I want her to point that little finger in my direction sometimes! It makes me realize how very much I’m missing by being at the office all day.

Sigh.

I think I’ll go have a Coke now – that always makes me feel better.

TTFN

JMS

Musical I-don't-know-what...

I’ve got this thing going with a girl at work. No...it’s not what you think, but it sure is fun! See...we’re each trying to come up with the most irritating song in the hopes of getting it stuck in the other’s head. Frankly, I think I’m winning. I may not really be winning, but I think I am. My favorite part isn’t coming up with the songs. It isn’t the sudden realization that, “Oh! That song would be PERFECT!” It’s Miss Tammy’s reaction when I start singing (which, in and of itself is scary). Some key phrases that have been uttered by my friend are:

“I’m hanging up now!”

“No! No no no no no no no no no! Bad!”

“Oh, I don’t want to know.”

“You hate me, don’t you?”

“La la la I can’t hear you!” (Said with her fingers stuffed in her ears)

Here are my criteria for song choice:

It has to be a song she will know.

It should have fun lyrics or catchy phrases.

It should have a fun, jazzy, toe-tappin’ tune.

It will most likely be one that would get stuck in my head.

It’s neat how I can pass along a song that is plaguing me to some other receptive person. It’s almost like passing a yawn - it always works but you can’t really explain why. Some songs we’ve used to annoy each other:

Ahab the Arab – Ray Stevens (Purple People Eater, Guitarzan, The Streak...)

Alice’s Restaurant – Arlo Guthrie

On the Radio – Donna Summer

The Oscar Meyer Wiener song

The Oscar Meyer Bologna song

Polly Wolly Doodle

Oh – there have been many more, but I think those are the best (worst?) of them. Right now I’m listening to The Pet Shop Boys (fav!) and trying to catch up on what I missed yesterday while I was helping out at the job fair! TTFN JMS PS: It's a good day! :)