Be sure to grab a tissue… And hold on tight.

Becoming Cliche

There will come a day

When the baby that cries in the night

Will find solace.

And so will you.

Hang on.

.

There will come a day

When the tantrums in Target

Will be outgrown.

And you will be proud.

Hang on.

.

There will come a day

When the diapers

Turn into dust rags.

And the world will rejoice.

Hang on.

.

There will come a day

When the favorite bedtime stories

Collect dust on a shelf.

And they read under the covers to themselves.

Be proud.

.

There will come a day

When Thomas the Tank Engine

Gives way to Star Wars.

And a new generation is initiated.

Avoid Episode One.

.

There will come a day

When the toys under the Christmas tree

Are replaced by skateboards and electronics.

And your heart will grieve a little.

Remember.

.

There will come a day

When imaginary friends

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Random Musings – Thursday Edition

It’s time again for my random musing of the week – Thursday edition!

  • “We can’t take any credit for our talents. It’s how we use them that counts.” – Madeleine L’Engle, A Wrinkle in Time

(P.S. If you haven’t read this book – it’s a must. Even for grown ups!)

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A Glutton for Punishment

Yep, I did it again. I took all four kids to the store. Alone. After work.

And not only that – I took them 30 minutes away from home to that big box store I’ll lovingly nickname Crap-Mart. (I know, creative huh? My brain is fried… read on and you’ll see why.)

The past two days, I’ve hooked a toddler and a baby into my vehicle only to have a dead battery greet us when I try to start up the car and head out. (You know… after spending an hour getting us all out the door…) FAAAAH-RUUUUS-TRAITING. Now, thankfully, the battery has only been dead on the first trip of the morning and manages to hold a charge after being jumped, but we only have one vehicle so jumping it is a pain in the rear.

So, I checked with Crap-Mart because I could have sworn we just replaced the damn thing. And we did – in February – a short 8 months ago. So, thankfully it is under warranty, but I will have to drive to the nearest Crap-Mart to have it looked at. (Note I said LOOKED AT, not REPLACED. More on that in a minute…)

So, I warn my kids. “As soon as I’m off work at 5, be ready to jump in the car.” It all goes like clock work. Peach and I leave work, pick up Woodchuck (who, by the way, took a FABULOUS nap today! Yay!), descent on the house to pick up my oldest (who have loving packed a snack and drink for Woodchuck) and we get on the road. Everyone is happy. I have a plan of attack for needed Thanksgiving groceries and we are making good time.

We arrive at Crap-Mart at about 5:40 p.m. and drop the car off at automotive. The clerk says “We have someone needing a tire and another battery in front of you and then we’ll get you taken care of.” Sounds simple enough. I have armed myself with a comp list so I can get the best price available on turkey, bananas, cranberry sauce and potatoes. Once we’re done collecting the things we need, we’ll make a stop at the most inexpensive place for us to eat – Subway and then get the car and head home. All in time to get the kids to bed at a decent time.

Why can’t things work like I have them planned out in my head? Life would be so much easier.

Now, granted, everything ALMOST went according to plan. Except for Mark and the diagnostics machine.

We made it through my shopping list. We picked up chicken poppers (pure GENIUS) from the deli for Woodchuck and Peach. They’re tickled. We’ve picked up flavored water for everyone for supper. We’ve had a delightful time checking out and ‘comping’ our items super cheap and I’m thrilled with my deals. (Even if I did spend more than planned because Peach got a cool mist humidifier, a gate to keep her from wandering into the bathroom and Woodchuck’s room, plus a new monitor.)

We head to Subway where Fred and G actually AGREE on a footlong sandwich they can split (cause I’m cheap like that…). I pick out my sandwich, we pay and get sat down to eat.

That’s it. That’s the last moment I was happy at Crap-Mart tonight.

Because of Mark.

Mark was sitting a few seats away. Observing us, apparently, but I’m really not paying much attention to Mark.

Then he starts talking to Peach. In an annoying idiotic voice that makes you want to claw your ears out of your head. “You’re such a pretty little girl.” “You aren’t going to throw your food at me, are you?” He then proceeds to do the ‘wet-hound-dog-shaking-it’s-head-after-a-bath’ thing. YES, really. I was sufficiently annoyed and questioning his sanity at this point, but it gets better. He then proceeds to slowly explain to me that his name is Mark and he works at Wal-Mart (as he holds up his name badge from his booth to show me). Then the rambling begins. I should have just told him to shut the eff up. Seriously.

But I’m a polite person. Too polite.

Mark decided that since I had given him an inch, that he’d just go right ahead and explain to me exactly WHY I should be sure to study all of my receipts closely because every Subway receipt has a website address for you to visit to complete a survey and get a free cookie on your next visit. Ok, cool.

Nope. Mark ALSO had to COME INTO MY PERSONAL SPACE and SHOW me how to complete the survey on his cell phone. As I’m contemplating whether I should club the guy for getting too near Peach and I (…mother bear… protecting her young… I’m sure that would stand up in court…) He is literally showing me every single step it takes to complete this survey.

I’m pissed at his audacity. I’ve lost my appetite. I don’t want my sandwich any more. I just want to GET. AWAY. FROM. MARK. IMMEDIATELY.

So, I start packing things away and rushing my kids. Which isn’t fair to them. They never get to eat out and the one night we get to (even if it IS only Subway in Crap-Mart), we have to deal with crazy Mark.

And Mark IS NOT GETTING IT. He just keeps talking and trying to show me the survey. And I’m stupid enough to kind of pay attention to him. Because I’m stupidly polite that way.

Finally we get away and head back to automotive. Surely they’re close to being done. It’s been over an hour and fifteen minutes. It’s a battery. No big deal.

Nope. Just started running the diagnostic on the old battery. “I’m sorry, but we can’t replace it until the diagnostic finishes running and says it needs replaced.” “Great. And how long will that take?” “Between 5 and 40 minutes.” <sigh>

An HOUR later… the diagnostic is finally done and (surprise, surprise) I need a new battery.

We finally get to check out and head home. 30 miles. We got home at 9:00 p.m. on a school night.

Did I mention that my husband is gone hunting male bonding? I’ll save that for another post though.

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I did it all for the milk… the milk… I did it all for the milk.

We’ve been out of milk for 2 days.

Enough, I told myself this morning. You’re going to HAVE to go to the grocery store for milk some time today.

Easier said than done. Here’s a brief overview of my typical day:

  • 5:25 a.m. – up for the day with Peach. Sadly, this has become routine for us with the damn time change.
  • 6:30 a.m. – 7:30 a.m. – fix and feed breakfast, fix and pack lunches, sign papers and hear a briefing of the days events before sending the two oldest to brush their teeth and get things loaded and outside for the bus.
  • 7:30 a.m. – 8:30 a.m. – nurse Peach, get dressed, dress Peach, dress Woodchuck, eat a quick bite of breakfast, pack food for Peach for the morning, get loaded in the car, get Woodchuck to daycare and Peach and I to work.
  • 8:30 a.m. – noon – Wrestle Peach at work including: feeding her, nursing her, changing her, napping her and (my favorite) playing with her.
  • Noon – 1:00pm – pick Woodchuck up from daycare and go home. Eat and feed Peach then nurse her and get her laid down for nap. Return to work.
  • 1:00 p.m. – 5:00 – Huh, work. Who knew.
  • 5:00 p.m. – Rush home so husband can get to work.

I have ZERO time to make a quick run to the store for milk! Seriously!

So, I did something stupid. And amazing. And STUPIDLY AMAZING.

I took all four children to the store today right after work.

I now know why some animals eat their young. Seriously.

Woodchuck was all for going to the store. Until he realized that I wasn’t going to let him ride his bike to the store. (We live 3-4 miles away and NEVER have ridden our bikes to the store… not sure where this came from other than he dearly loves to ride his bike in the road with Daddy beside him.) I had to physically wrestle him into his carseat.

Then, we were able to calm him down on the way to the store by the promise of getting to ride in one of the car carts. However, one aisle into the store and he’s already climbing out of it, hanging his head, arms and lets out of every available space and in general trying his hardest to be the biggest p.i.t.a. he can be.

This is how the entire rest of the trip went: Woodchuck, sit down. Woodchuck, don’t touch that. Woodchuck, hold my hand. Woodchuck, put your head back inside the car so we don’t bonk it. Woodchuck, don’t climb on top of the car. Woodchuck, no running. Woodchuck, put that down. Woodchuck, hold my hand or get in the cart. In between these is a grumpy Peach who just wants her 5 o’clock nursing time with Momma, grumpy G and Fred who just want to be at home instead and 15 people I know who are randomly coming up to me and asking me how we’re doing.

How does it look like I’m doing? Really?!? Leave me alone so I can get the hell through the store and get home. My sanity is counting on it.

I did it all for the milk…

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Random Musings – Thursday Edition

It’s time again for my random musing of the week – Thursday edition!

  • A train station is where the train stops. A bus station is where the bus stops. On my desk, I have a work station…

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POMazing!

Ok, so the whole POM-Wonderful thing was taken. So, I’m titling this post POMazing because I’m in love with pomegranates. It’s a serious addiction. Thank goodness they aren’t easier to eat.

Who knew my husband was such an artist? The pomegranate named Peach! (a.k.a. POM-Peachy-O)

I recently found a pomegranate in our small town grocery store and I was soooo excited! Our little grocer is movin’ on up now! Pomegranates! Wow!

Then I took it home. And went about the not-so-simple task of cleaning the arils out of the pulp. They looked sub-par. They were pale or translucent instead of the deep rich red.

Then a beautiful wonderful thing happened. They got in the POM brand of pomegranates. Holy WOW, what a difference! I am in pomegranate heaven!

Like little beautiful edible rubies!

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Time Travel and a Return to Sanity

I’ve been M.I.A. for a week and I’ve discovered I miss writing on my little ole blog. It’s therapeutic. I just couldn’t come up with anything to write about except how stinking tired I’ve been and so I sat back. And waited.

And a return to sanity has begun (knock on wood) – (no, seriously, KNOCK ON WOOD NOW.)

Woodchuck has not gotten me up at night for about 2 weeks. Miss Peach slept through the night last night for the first time in MONTHS. I got a solid 7 hours of uninterrupted SLEEP.

I am so grateful for the time change.

Don’t get me wrong. I hate getting off work in the dark. A lot. But I’ll trade a little daylight any day for a good solid night of sleep.

I didn’t even mind that she started her day at 5:51 a.m., because we’re still so close to the time change that I can say she woke at a respectable 6:51 a.m. Plus, she *technically* went to bed 40 minutes early!

So, things are back to normal (I hope) and I can return to the land of (relative) sanity and fully functioning adulthood.

At least until next week when the adjustment period is behind us…

How are your little ones adjusting?

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