I tried thinking of a Thursday Thirteen, but couldn’t, so my next best thought was to share the predicament I found myself in last week when I returned home from school. I came home, got comfy, and realized my two year old was being far too quite upstairs. Though it was ten pm and I should have assumed she was sleeping, I knew better seeing how hubby was in charge (ha ha, sorry hun). So I attempted to sneak up on her only to learn that not only has she mastered the ancient art of door opening, but that she also decided to follow in Picasso’s footsteps. This is the scene I snuck up on.
One of the perks of having two kids in a relatively short time frame is that you get to use all of the goodies from the first one. This has come as an extreme advantage since our tiniest one is not so easily subdued most of the time. Therefore this Thursday Thirteen is dedicated to the objects that attempt to entertain little britches through out any given day. Be forewarned the manufacturer of most of these toys are “we suck batteries dry in mere minutes” aka “we keep back ups for our own peace of mind”.
The Snugglie, Guitar and Bath are the big guns that come out when all toys, meals, & means to a nap have been exhausted.
Just two years ago I was starting my oldest daughter down the road of being a girlie-girl by getting her ears pierced. Since then she has grown to love anything prefaced with the word “pre-tty”. That includes allowing me to comb her curly (often matted) hair without much complaint, picking a wardrobe which is primarily pink, and making scented lotions available to her. She lets me change her earrings and seeks out lip gloss whenever mom’s purse isn’t put up high. Today was a new right of passage however as she got her first manicure, complete with butterfly and flower decals.
Yes, we are talking about a two year old here, but she sat through it like the potential princess that she works hard to mimic daily.
Today was also the littlest one’s initiation into the girlie world as she got her first pearls. Before you know it they will both be on their way to the shoe department and perfume counter.
A friend of mine came up with a great idea to have those of us in our mom’s group get together with clothes and toys our kids had outgrown and swap them. She had seen this on a show, and thought it would work well for our group. The idea was to have snacks, chit chat, and swap out our kids boring stuff for new stuff. Then anything that was left over would be donated to charity. Needless to say it was rather brilliant.
We had nine mom’s who gathered items their children were no longer interested in or could no longer fit, which left a large selection to pick through. It was ideal for the moms and kids as we were given an opportunity to get rid of the unused collections gathering dust, and the kids felt like they had all new toys to play with. The true beauty of it being a swap, is that you were not adding to an already crowded toy box or closet, simple trading it. I believe just about everyone walked away with some cute picks for there little one’s or family members, and the enormous bundle of left overs was taken to the local homeless shelter.
I wanted to blog about this because when I tried looking up ideas before hosting, I came up empty handed. Personally this event saved me a bundle since my daughter gathered a small wardrobe for the winter. Plus I was able to get some stuff out of the house and organize the toy box which was packed to the top. The entire event was a win win as about ten enormous bags of suitable children’s clothes and toys were taken to children in need. Hopefully this will be an idea which spreads.
For any of you wondering why I have been MIA, I have just been completely overwhelmed with school, family, multiple state exams coming back to back, and house stuff. Oddly enough I don’t think I excel at any of the above, which has left me questioning the following…”if a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear, does it still make a sound?”or likewise “if you clean your house but no one visits to witness it, was it ever really so?” Here is a photo of my kitchen & living room before and after cleaning this weekend:
Now here is a photo today:
It baffles me how quickly this happens, but even more puzzling is how I fail to notice the tornado until it has passed. I have stopped to blog once or twice amongst the storms, however it ceases to seem entertaining. Therefore if I continue to go MIA, it is truly an attempt on my part to spare you of the less-than-entertaining aspects of a mediocre housewives monotonous day.
If you are a mom (or a dad) on a budget, I am almost certain you have been through the wonderful experience of picking clothes for the kids based on their sale price. And if you have ever shopped at Kohl’s than you know everything is always on sale, the question is what-is-what because nothing ever seems to be on the right table. This is precisely how my adventure began on Tuesday. I found a stack of jeans for my two year old that were supposed to be 2 for $12. But I also found the same jeans on another rack which read 60% off. (both citing the specific brand so neither appeared to be on the wrong rack) I wanted to know which one was accurate so I took them to the customer service counter. Here I was told that they were buy one get one free (making neither of the other prices right). At this time I was also strongly urged to apply for a Kohl’s charge account to receive 15% off my purchase. Since I was buying a lot of clothes for the kids I thought this would be a pretty good savings, why not?
Skip to the check out where I have now rushed to because my two year old smells rotten and the diaper bag is in the car. I now have, amongst other items, my buy one get one free jeans, and my 15% off coupon in hand. My nine year old is now dancing around in circles with the two year old who reeks, and the three month old has insisted she be carried. The conversation goes as follows:
Cashier: Um, you can’t use this coupon unless you put it on your Kohl’s charge.
Me: Oh, the manager signed the back saying that wasn’t neccesary.
Cashier: Well she can’t do that.
(people are now shifting in line behind me because the kids are hooting, the runt smells, and I am bouncing the baby)
Cashier: (yelling out to a passing manager) Can she use this discount without putting it on her Kohl’s card?
Manager: Whatever
Cashier: (obviously perturbed) Ok, so long as the manager said so.
I finally get home after a full experience with diaper changes and fits about getting into car seats only to find that I was charged $18 each for the pants and the cashier never applied the 15% discount.
The last couple of weeks have been difficult for both my mom and mother in law, and for the same reason. Their dad’s are dying. Both have been put into hospice care with a very small likelyhood of living much longer. Of course this has got me thinking about my own dad and how difficult it will be when the day comes that I must say goodbye to him as well. Rather than focus though on losing him, as I hope that won’t be for many years, I would rather think about all the reasons I appreciate my dad.
When I was a kid my dad was an auto machanic. He would come home after working out in the cold or heat, exhausted and stained in grease with cuts on his hands, but he would still play with us kids. He worked extra hours under the table so that we could afford a family vacation every year to the lake. He always stopped if someone was broken down on the side of the road, and offered help to those he knew or didn’t know when it was in his ability to do so. After suffering an injury that made working on cars difficult, he returned to school and got two degree’s allowing him to work at the local college. Since he dropped out of school in 7th grade, this was no easy task. He raised us kids with values, and was adament that we always use the manners we were taught. He has been faithful to my mom for 35 years, and has never uttered an ill word about his parents, though I am sure there were many to be said. I could go on and on about how great my dad is, but more than anything I repect my dad because I know that even as difficult as his kids can be, he is always there to bail us out when we need him.
Because my dad is a private man, even I don’t know his thoughts on most things. I would like to hope that before the day comes when my dad is gone, I will be able to say I learned as much as I could about him. I better start soon though, because there are alot of blanks to be filled in.
After my previous, rather optimistic post, I started watching home videos. I can’t believe how much my kids have grown. It reminded me that in between the fits, feedings, and clean ups there are so many moments of fulfillment. Gotta run now, the two year old just got a new boo boo.
Do you ever wonder what purpose you serve? I don?t mean this on a sulky, ?woes me? level, I just mean what precisely is my duty in life and when will I start looking forward to doing it?
I wake up early every day, get going with the kids, have something that inevitably calls me away from home, which steals so much time in the minimal details. For example doctors appointments, or grocery shopping, where I need to dress the girls, hope for good moods, then rush home to unload and put everything away, before my son gets out of school. Then it?s time to start working on naps, and basic maintenance of the many toys lying around. Then get dinner started. After dinner I of course don?t want to wash dishes, put away dinner, or bathe the kids, but every so often I do anyways. On the nights I don?t bother, the following morning begins as the previous day, only with several complete colonies of ants browsing the Rio style buffet we have generously left for them.
It is not as if I don?t feel my family is worthy of all of this, however how many days in my life can repeat in this fashion before it becomes like a broken record playing the same verse over and over again? What?s worse is the condition of my house most days. Even though my kitchen and living room are cleaned almost daily, they never stay that way long enough for anyone to witness it. When friends drop in and there are streaks of something sticky running down the couches, or dark stains in the center of the floor, and smudges of who knows what on every door jam and light switch, I think to myself what they are probably thinking ?geez, does this woman ever clean her house?? Shouldn?t this be gratifying knowing that I am supposedly doing the most important job there is? When precisely do the feelings of fulfillment begin?
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