A Little Skin

Saturday, while sitting and enjoying my daughter's soccer game, I noticed (along with all the other parents at the field) a little girl wandering about. She was probably about 3, a little adorable African-American girl. 

She was so lost, she wandered out in to the soccer game, almost getting ran over by the girls playing the game.

Yet, no one made any attempt to help her, or ask where her parents were. She continued to wander. 

I hesitated to help her. Perhaps her parents were watching and just didn't care? Perhaps she would start to cry or scream if I attempted to help her? All these fears came in to my head and it kept me from acting.

Then, I realized, "This is stupid. If this was one of my children, what would I want a stranger to do?"

So, I approached the little girl, being very careful not to touch her, as I didn't want to be accused of anything, later. Even though there were plenty of witnesses. (Isn't it so sad, that this is what our world has come to? Sigh...another post for another time, perhaps).

"Hi there! Where is your mommy or daddy?"

"They are at home."

"Oh, ok. Well, did you come here with a grown up?"

"My grandma!"

"Ok, where is she? Do you know?"

"No! I can't find her!"

"Well, what was she wearing? Do you remember?"

"She is my grandma with a rainbow on."

"A rainbow?  Ok."

I look around, don't see anyone with a rainbow.  I hesitate to ask the next question:

"Sweety, does your grandma have skin like me?  Or, skin like you?"  thinking at least that would narrow the search down a bit. 

Her reply is absolutely perfect.  It made my day.  Totally.

"She has grandma skin." 

"Ok, so we are looking for a grandma with a rainbow and grandma skin. Got it. Let's go over here."

As I walked around with this little girl, plenty of people watched me but never once offered any help or suggestions.

Finally, a lady calls out:  "Jada!!  Get over here!"  And, off my new little friend went. No "thank you" or apologies or explanations from the Rainbow Grandma. She was totally unaware, uncaring that her grandchild had wandered around a good 10 min, almost getting knocked over by a herd of 3rd grade Soccer Survivors, intent on getting on with their game as to move on to their snacks of Oreos and Capri Suns. (because, who brought snacks and what are they? is the most important part of the game. Trust me on this) . 

Every parent has a bad day (or two. or more.) and I like to think this Grandma was having a bad day. 

With that rainbow and all , you'd think she'd be a touch more cheery.

I Don't Wanna!!

Do you ever have months weeks days where you just don't want to do it? And by "it" I mean everything.

Days where you want to stomp your feet and take a cue from your small child and holler "I don't wanna!"? 

Days where you know your life is blessed and many people have it worse than you?But yet you don't care? You want to take this day and throw your own pity party and you're keeping your fingers crossed nobody else shows up because you can't handle anybody's else stuff anyhow? 

Days where, even though you do love them, but your children are on your last nerve? And, even though you do love him, your husband is chipping away at your sanity as well? 

Days where you want to holler at the universe "Enough! Leave me alone!"? 

Well.

I am having one of those months weeks days.

Well, Well, Well....

Me? I've been well. Not great but not bad, either.

Things have been happening but nothing extraordinary. Shall I catch you up?  Allrighty....

A few months ago, an Urgent Care Clinic was built about 2 blocks from our house. I knew, when I saw it, that I should go in and ask for a frequent buyer's punch card. 
Sure enough, Jarrett fought a hard battle with the floor. The floor won. No stitches, just glue and a terrible black eye .( What is really pathetic? When I was going through pictures on my computer, trying to find this picture, I found about 5 more of previous black eyes. Sigh...)

Feeling the need for some beach, we loaded the kids up and headed West. I am ever thankful that the ocean is a mere two hour drive, as it does my soul so well.
Although, this trip wasn't the best--poor weather, hide tides, etc--we all had fun. And, no broken bones this time, thankyouverymuch (Karey!)

First time taking the puppy to the beach. While he loved it, there's nothing quite like the smell of wet puppy. And that mere two hour drive? Well. It's hard to believe they haven't made that in to an air freshener.

Josie is number 37. I know, it's not the best picture but are you aware it's impossible to watch a soccer game and cheer AND take pictures?  Well, it is!   This is her 3rd year playing and she just keeps getting better and better. And, what baffles me every time she plays a game, she IMMEDIATELY does EXACTLY what her coach tells her to do (that is not the coach, in the picture, with the clipboard. That is the coach's daughter).  I want to hire him to be her life coach.

This is what happens when 1) kids eat on the couch and stuff falls under cushions 2) you take off cushions to vacuum. 3) puppy smell delicious 3 day old fruit snacks and various crumbs. 

And, last but certainly not least, you may remember James, my itty bitty tiny nephew born 10 weeks early, weighing 3 pounds. I finally got to visit him, three months later. And hold him and love on him. And he is doing so well!  He weighs over 9 pounds now, which is still tiny but is triple his birth weight, and is just perfect.

Life is going well. Very well indeed.

A Conversation

This is a conversation that took place this morning, in my very own kitchen.

For some reason, we were talking about how babies are born. Either "out of a mom's tummy or out of their bottoms". 

I thought it best to clarify what "bottom" meant: 

Me: " A baby is born out of a mom's private parts"

Jeven/Jarrett:  "EWWWWWW!!!!"

Josie:  "How is THAT even possible?"

Me:  "Well......"

Josie:  "That's why, when I have a baby, I'm having surgery.  Does it leave a scar?"

Me:  "Yes."

Jeven:  "Can we see your scar, mom?"

Me:  "I don't have a scar because none of you were born through surgery."

**silence**

Josie/Jarrett/Jeven: "EWWWWWWWW!!!!" 

Jeven:  "THAT'S why we have to take so many showers!!!" 

( :

Off The Fence and Most Likely, Off My Rocker

Do you remember THIS POST?  Where I thought perhaps we were ready for another dog? 

Yeah. Well.

"What's that you say? I'm coming to live with you? Yay!!"

This is Luther. He has been with us for 2 wks. now. He is a Bullmastiff. He will be huge, I'm sure.

Yeah. Well.

Sleeping, on the couch. Just this once, I swear!! 

He is very sweet.

And he's also a puppy. Did you know puppies chew? On EVERYTHING?  Did you know puppies don't sleep through the night?

Yeah. Well.

Jeven and Luther, the day we got him. When Luther was 6 wks old.

It's been alot of work. But, it's been oh so much fun! I will only confess this here, on this very private blog, that I love this dog.

I have become one of "those" people. That call themselves "mama" when talking to their dog. I make "smooching" noises. I baby talk.

I have become someone I don't recognize.

Yeah. Well.

I don't care!!

Jeven and Luther, now 8 wks. old. I'm a tad frightened how fast this "puppy" is growing. 

Keeping It Real.

Most times, when I post a picture here or on facebook, before clicking the "post" button, I scrutinize the picture very carefully.

What's in the background?
Can you see the dingy part on our walls? 
Does it show how messy my house is?
Am I in the background, asleep, with my mouth open?

All these things are very possible to see in the pictures I post.

After taking this photo, I decided to post it here, even though it indeed shows just how we live. Not every day. But, often. Because I have 4 children. And, I'm not Martha Stewart.

1:  That is a french fry because I did not prepare a nutritious, home-cooked meal for my 5 yr. old. And, yes, he is holding it above his head because he is the "French Fry Liberty". Also, if you would note that he is wearing shorts (always) and his t-shirt is at least one size too small. Also usual for this child.

2:  That is a pile of laundry he is standing on. Clean laundry I will add. And, yes, it has spread to cover most of the couch as I had not folded it yet. Yet.  I did do it later. I swear.

3:  Those are our living room curtains. And, no matter how many times a day I fix them, they always end up cattywampus and sloppy looking. And, the curtain rod itself has been know to fall down because of the extra weight of a 50lb child hanging off of them. (Hint:  he is included in the picture)

4:  That is the broom that sat there for most of the day. At one point, I attempted to use it to sweep (well, duh!) up the endless supply of crumbs and whatnots that end up scattered here and there and everywhere. I set it there to go do some mindless chore that I can't even remember,(I'm going out on a limb and say I was taking clothes out of the dryer) and forgot about it. So, it sat there, unused, for a big portion of the day.

5:  This is what the picture doesn't show. The other stuff strung throughout the house. The toys, shoes and other odds and ends. Played with then dropped. Forgotten until dinner time, when cleaning up is the price you pay to be fed.
It also doesn't show the puzzle my 7 year old put together all by himself and left sitting on the floor because of how he likes to look at them. And, I promised  NOT to put it away because it is quite the accomplishment.
It doesn't show the feelings I get when I look at it all. I won't get all mushy and say something like "I love my family and all the things they do". Because that's not keeping it real. There are days, more often than not, that I get frustrated with the mess and chaos. But, honestly, I do, (cross my heart) sometimes think that someday, someday in the not so distant future, all these things will be gone. The toys, the piles of laundry, the muddy footprints. And, I think, while there will be days that I will enjoy the neatness and the solitude, I will also miss the time when "French Fry Liberty" was the highlight of my day.

Mother of the Year Award

If there was such a thing, I should get it. Totally, you guys.

Because only a Mother of the Year (MOTY) would be totally patient and kind while cleaning up vomit for the upteenth time.

Only a MOTY would be shrugging her shoulders and saying "It's all good" when, although nobody had vomited for at least 12 hours, child number 3 vomits exactly 2 hours before the planned drop off time to Papa and Nana's, thus ruining the plans MOTY and FOTY (Father of the Year. Not to be confused with FATTY, which is self explanatory) had made for an over night date and a day away.

Only a MOTY would whisper "It's ok" to said child, as he is crying, knowing he ruined the plans his mother and father had made, and being so sad that he doesn't get to be spoiled rotten by said Papa and Nana. And Auntie B. When in reality, MOTY wants to sit on the floor, and scream and pout and throw a TTOTY (Temper Tantrum of the Year).

Such is life of a MOTY.. Kids get sick. Grown-ups get sick. Plans get ruined. People get disappointed.

But, I honestly do hope my kids remember how I held them, wiped their vomit, cleaned their faces and loved on them, even when life didn't go the way anyone had hoped for.