Skip to main content

All Fun and Games... Mostly

I hope I don't sound like Debbie Downer on these posts.  It's possible I highlight the crazy maybe a little more often than the sweet.  Truthfully, I love my stay-at-home-mom job 90% of the time, but every job has it's high points and its low points. 

Hearing your baby say "mama" for the first time: high point.  

Hearing your five-year-old scream "mom" from outside your bathroom door for the fifteenth time: low point.    

Getting an unexpected hug from your seven-year-old: high point.

Getting unexpectedly shot with a nerf gun by your seven-year-old (timing is everything): low point.

You get the idea.  

At the end of the day, you just hope the balance lands in favor of the positive.  

Unfortunately, for us, today started in the red.  I blame prune juice. It's a long story, and it ends with me ruining my chances at earning Star Mother for the month of January.  It's a bummer because I thought I had a real chance.  I didn't get it last month either.  Stupid prune juice.  

There's also a good possibility our guest bathroom will continue to be clogged on a regular basis.  One child, who will remain nameless, would rather face destruction of catastrophic proportions than so much as touch the glass that holds such horrid tasting juice (my paraphrase).  He will henceforth be titled: Chief Plunger of the Toilet.  Ah, motherhood.  Such a blessed time.       

It all worked out, the prune juice incident, I mean.  At the end of the day, it wasn't on anyone's radar.  

Whether it's prune juice or something else, those battles of will start early.  My favorite with the twins is getting them dressed. They hate it.  They don't want to change into pajamas, they don't want to change out of pajamas, they don't want to get dressed ever.  Period.  I'm currently on a marathoner's diet just to make sure I maintain enough Calories for these wrestling matches, and it's not working.  Both girls are runners when they see clean clothes come out.  They are also wrestlers, limp noodles, and screamers.  

I imagine it's a lot like trying to dress a feral cat.  One with rabies.  

Getting them dressed is always a workout.  My favorite move is when one of them strips out of her clean clothing as I dress number two. Then she typically runs and hides under the crib. I have to shimmy myself under until I can catch an arm or a leg and pull her out to start all over again.  Fun game. 

If anyone wants to try this excellent exercise program, there is plenty of space.  I charge a low per session  fee, and this month only, I'll be waiving the membership costs, so sign up quick!  

Please...    

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Advanced Placement

 Not to brag or anything, but I think we are raising some very advanced children.  At two-years-of-age, our girls have already worked out the art of manipulation and deflection.  It's the antithesis of endearing.   They went missing the other day - the girls did.  That's never a good situation.  They were in the house, and I knew they were in the house, but I couldn't see or hear them.  Silence is the loudest alarm system.  Fischer took action and found them both in my bathroom.   "MOM!" I met them in the hall.  Carter was covered in clumps and blobs of hand cream. "Emi did it," was her unsolicited response.   "No," I told her.  "I think you  did it." That night I got ready for bed and pulled out my one "self-care" splurge - my face cream .  It was in my drawer where I always keep it.  The lid was screwed on.  And it was empty, wiped clean.  "EmmmeerrrrrSON!" Guilty.  They were both ...
2 comments
Read more

Sheltering in Place

In the past three months Corona Virus has more or less turned the world on its head.  I feel almost guilty for not being more stressed or put out by the whole thing.  We have been extremely fortunate. What we thought was a most impractical move on our part, wound up being a huge blessing.  With our two boys and our two newborns, we moved out of our house with no yard in the city limits and into my parents' house in the country while waiting for our new house to be completed.  The weekend we moved "quarantine," "social distancing," and "shelter in place" became the new mantra of our state.   Moving in with my parents meant ten plus acres of play space and two extra able bodied adults to help even out the score with the four kids.  Win for the St. Clair's!  Unfortunately, my parents are beginning to realize they may have made an error in judgement.   Yesterday, Sawyer gave their cat swimming lessons.   Last week th...
1 comment
Read more

Little Bit Dicey

 This might be a little controversial.  I try to steer clear of such topics in this space, but it needs to be said.  Take it as you will, but know that it comes from a place of love, concern, and respect.  Here it is: there is a right  way to cut an onion. Now, I'm not saying this to try and get anyone's dander up.  I'm just saying it's a subject that needs to be addressed in kitchens across America.  There may be more than one right way to skin a cat (I can't say I've tested that), but the same does not hold true for onions.  Please, you can teach an old dog new tricks - learn how to properly cut an onion.  It will save you time, frustration, onion tears, and possibly a finger.     Now, since I'm still sitting here on blogspot like it's 2003, I'm not going to post any how-to videos, but I'll do the next best thing.  I'll paste a link right here .    Check it out.  Practice it.  Make it a habit.  T...
Post a Comment
Read more