Mind-Reading Anyone?

I recently read a blog that I just loved. This parent was, like me, trying to find a way to keep up with it all. She had lots of things she wanted to write about... to remember or just note, but never seemed to find the time to write in-depth about those things. So, she had one whole post about everything and nothing. I know some of you will probably just browse through this and ignore, which is fine. This one is for me more than it is for anyone else.

I love days when the kids don't get out of their pjs until after lunch has been served and only then because they have food all over them.

I love the way Jake runs into my arms when he gets scared of something and says, "Jakey sca-wed (scared)."

I love it that Bailey thinks Jesus and Santa Claus are very similar because they can see everything she's doing all the time and they know everything.

I hate the way Jake cries everyday when I leave him at day care, but love how he stops before I even get down the hall to drop off Bailey.

I love it when Jake asks for strawberries... "bewwies."

I love to see the kids' face when we hit a wave on the lake and the water splashes us... and they both yell for Brad to go faster and hit more waves (or "dapes" as Jake calls them).

I love and hate it when Jake gets in the lake and swims for two seconds, and then gets out because he wants his mommy, only to soak our towels and boat before getting right back in the water for Daddy.

I love it that Bailey will go up to every kid at the pool and introduce herself by saying, "Hi, I'm 4." Yes, we just need to know her age, not her name. But if you ask her name, it is "BaileyGraceOoten." One word... not three.

I hate waking the kids up on school days, but love how they roll over and immediately smile, stretch their arms out for a hug and kiss, and then ask for orange juice.

I hate it that Bailey gets her feelings hurt so easily, but love that she is sensitive to other people's feelings.

I hate it that she is already worrying about death and our mortality. I hate it when she cries because she's scared that we're going to die or that she's going to die. How do you tell a kid that you aren't going to ever die and then risk something happening and let her think you lied to her? Praying about that one...

I'm terrified of my own mortality.

I'm terrified of mammograms.

I love it that, despite their fighting, my kids truly love each other. Every time I pick them up at day care, whoever I get first asks me where their sibling is. It doesn't matter that they know the answer...

I officially hate the ABC song. I will never like it... ever. Or Fruit Salad or Big Red Boat.

I love my parents for always letting me be me. I have to remember to do that for my kids and not criticize them too much.

I love it that my husband lets me sleep on the days I work from home, especially if the kids aren't up. And I really love it that he still makes sure to kiss me before he leaves for the day, even if I'm telling him to leave me alone.

I hate it when my phone dies and the charger isn't in the car. Brad - seriously by me another charger if you're going to steal mine.

I hate it that my baby brother is a senior in high school. That makes me old. That means he's grown up. That means that I have to help get him set up for college soon. That means my parents will be empty-nesters.

I love it that I might be able to convince my parents to move this way once Colt is out of school.

I love it that Jake is so much like his daddy and his uncle Colt... even though I worry that I might want to strangle him at some point in his adolescent life.

I hate stupid movies. I really hate stupid movies with no plot. I really, really hate to go through a movie that really seems to be going good and then it ends really badly.

I love the Drive-In theater, the dollar theater, Sonic hot dogs and onion rings, fantasy football, and flip-flops (even if they are apparently a faux-pax if you aren't a the beach).

I hate meetings that last more than 45 minutes. After I hit that mark, I don't care what we are talking about... which usually ends up leaving me with more work because I just agree to do whatever so that we can leave.

I miss things like blackberry-picking, crawdad-hunting, and reading an entire book in one day (all while sweating without body odor).

I miss spitting contests with my brother. Oh yes, girls, we would spit off the bridge near our house for long periods of time. And I won the farthest distance quite often. Attractive... I know. :)

I wish that we could catch one freaking fish at Herrington Lake. I'm threatening to bring a bb gun next time. They flop up on the water all around us but won't bite! ARGH. And these things are HUGE.

I miss having a car that will stay clean longer than an hour.

I love my daddy for always being that dad that would do anything to make me happy. I'm talking about Shoney's for breakfast before school, two-hour trips on Friday nights to watch high school football games when we didn't have a family member on the team to go and watch, and long talks about religion, politics, and everything else. No opinion I had was wrong... even when I was wrong.

I love it that my mom is my best friend and that we talk everyday about everything and nothing. I hope I'm as good as she is.

I love it that my mom survived breast cancer. I hate it that she went through it, but love it that she realizes how strong she really is.

I hate it when my parents say their kids are the only good things thay have ever done. Clearly, they don't see what I see... that makes me sad. Proud that they are proud of us... sad that they don't see how wonderful they are to so many others.

I hope my best friend Cilla's work flow plan works. I really hope she and Bret don't kill each other before it does. LOL... I'm kidding on that one, but figure that you guys are probably the only ones still reading at this point!

I hope I never see another cucumber again. lol.

I hope that Cilla and Bret get everything they want in life and more. Having a child does not define you one way or another. You are both amazing people and friends... I thank God for you guys every day.

I hope that Cory is happy... truly happy... and that Angela can tolerate him. :) I wish that we spent more time together. I miss him.

I love my friend Cheryl's blog. I love it that I can feel like I know what's going on in her life, even if we only talk and see each other a couple of times each year.

I hate it that everyone in Masterson Station has a house for sale. :)

I hate it that I'll totally freak out if we sell our house and have to move.

I hate cleaning.

I hate it that I never visit my grandparents as often as I want to. I feel like I lost my grandmother yesterday and it's been almost a year.

I love Spiderman for making my son pee on the potty.

I can't believe I've been out of high school for 10 years. I can't believe that I met Brad nearly 11 years ago. I can't believe that he has tolerated me this long...

:)

I have so much to be thankful for... I'm counting my blessings and thanking God for it all. Sorry it was a marathon... but now you know what it would be like if there was a cord hooked to my brain, reading my thoughts. lol...

Monnie's... nope... Mommy's Boy

I guess it is official... my little baby boy is growing up. Potty-training was just the beginning for Jake. Apparently, once you can go in the potty, you have to stop using your pet names for your mother. I am no longer Monnie. I would love to be Monnie. Instead, I'm just regular Mommy. And I love the way he says it with his sweet little voice, but I miss Monnie. I've wondered if his speech is just getting better, but I've asked him several times to call me Monnie and he just grins that sneaky little grin, shakes his head no, and tells me, "No... you Mom-MY!" I guess it's all part of becoming a big boy... no diapers = no baby names for mom.

At least I still have his sweet little affectionate man before he falls to sleep. Brad says he has me snowed, and he probably does (just like Bailey has Brad snowed). Each night, when I lay down with him to go to sleep, he gives me at least a dozen hugs and kisses and tells me repeatedly that he loves me. When he's feeling particularly happy, he'll rub my face, play with my hair, or just snuggle really close and squeeze me tight. We were all cuddling in the bed just before lights out a few nights ago and Brad was watching as Jake went through this little routine. I could see that Brad was just laughing his butt off at how much I was enjoying this attention from Jake. So, I told Jake to tell Brad he should take notes. Of course, Jake followed with, "Daddy, take notes." He then proceeded to tell me he loved me and cuddle up with me. Brad just cracked up. He made sure to point out how much I'm getting snowed by this kid. lol... Yes, the tables have turned, daddy. You have your daddy's little girl... but I have the momma's boy. And I will most certainly take it as long as I can! :)

Boo Boos

Slightly behind... that's how I feel on most days in just about everything. That's just the life of a mom, or so I'm told. It should come as no surprise to anyone (including me) that I had inadvertently forgotten to schedule Bailey's 4-year old shots in the spring. So, I scheduled them a couple of weeks ago and we were off to get her up to date. I warned her that it would pinch and sting a little, but didn't want to scare her. I told her that she was so tough and big that I was sure she'd be just fine. I think she was curious to see how it would be. She asked me about it for a few days before we went, telling me each time that she wouldn't cry because she was so tough. I knew it wouldn't be that way and I did indeed feel guilty for not being more forthcoming about how not-fun this was going to be. She wanted to know and, well, she found out.

The day rolls around that we are scheduled to visit the health department. We play in the waiting room, enjoying our time with the new toys, which are clearly the reason that Bailey was eager to actually come to the "doctor" office in the first place. The nurse calls us back and I see the nervousness start to creep in on Bailey. I'm sure she detected that I was a little nervous, too. I did have both of them with me with no stroller and had spent most of my time in the waiting room contemplating an exit strategy that didn't involve me carrying my purse (the ultimate mom bag that it is) and both children out the door. Bailey sat bravely in my lap, with Jake sitting on the chair beside of us, as the nurse demonstrated how I should hold her legs and arms so that she wouldn't move. Bailey wanted me to cover her eyes too, so it was tricky. And Jake was all about seeing what was happening, so he was leaning in on us as well. There were three shots - two in one leg and one in the other. The first shot was the big one and hurt pretty badly, or so I hear. She cried pretty hard and I had to hold her down tightly as the nurse rushed through the other two. Bailey was sobbing and telling me over and over how badly it hurt. She was sure to remind me that I said it wouldn't hurt that bad. Yes, guilt set in again. As she asked me to kiss her boo-boos and make them all better, I sat awestruck at how she still looks to me as the one person that can soothe her wounds. I know it couldn't help her to actually feel better, but yet she still wants that affection and still thinks it will make things all better. If only that would last forever. I know one day I'll look back at that particular moment in time and wish thta I could kiss whatever little heartache or injury she has and make it all better. Until then, I'm perfectly content being the one to heal those little wounds... even if they happen a lot. :)

Jake also cried over the shots... as hard as Bailey did. Of course, that was after he got in a couple of hits on me for letting that mean nurse hurt his sister. Oh yes, it has begun. He is defending his sister already. After shot number two, I felt Jake's little fist on my arm and felt him try to pull me away from Bailey. As bad as it was that he resorted to hitting me, it was also that cute. Imagine how it will be when they are teenagers. Bailey will get in trouble and Jake will be ultra pissed at her for doing whatever she did. But, he'll defend her after he lets her have it. My big-hearted little man. Bailey, of course, had to be carried out, and Jake walked like a big boy, holding my hand. McDonald's was in the cards and all was well after some affection, fries, Coke, and chicken nuggets.