Toddlers (& babies)

Flood, Fire & Locusts, Part One

Monday, September 1, 2008 By Sherra

They’re coming. The Locusts.

They should be here any time and I’ve told PhilBillPaul we should start running now and maybe we can get a head start.

For any of you reading my blog and thinking everything in my life is hunkey dorey and I have “my personal thing” together, let me remind you of this or this or this or this.

Just want to keep the perspective. Especially for any new readers out there.

The only thing is – my tribulations and woes seem to make everyone laugh and I’m thankful for that, really I am. If I couldn’t laugh, I think I would have really checked out of life a long time ago!

You know that Apartment Guide I found in my car that the darling twin daughters have taken over and think is their car? They might be on to something.

Apartment living really does have its perks. As in, “Hello, maintenance? Can you come over to #123 and fix my…”

Home ownership is not all what it is cracked up to be.

We’ve had our share of house mishaps that sometimes make me want to find an apartment. I’ve had my share of marital strife that has also made me want to find a crappy little apartment.

I know many of you have been patiently waiting for the Xanax story and I like to keep my promises.

Here is the beginning of the story of just ONE part of our house that continues to depress, stress and has actually almost killed us.

Our Basement

It started out as an exciting thing to have. Living in basement-free Florida for six years but growing up in the Midwest made PhilBillPaul and I long for a basement which gives you more storage and the potential for more living space.

Our basement started out as many people’s basements do…unfinished.

Mr. Handy a.k.a. PhilBillPaul and his father finished our basement the summer the girls turned one. I had determined I would need a safe place for them to be if I needed to do anything um, like go to the bathroom, while I was at home taking care of them all day. Some of you may have experienced using the bathroom with the door open and three toddlers being with you at your feet. It’s one of those “this cannot be my life” moments.

I knew I would have to tackle this if I took them all out in public. And I did.

We all crammed into the handicapped stall and believe me, if there was ever a time in my life that I qualified for rights to the handicapped stall it was from 1991-1994 and you saw me at the mall with my darling toddlers.

But I dreamed of a safe place I could put them so that I could use the bathroom or take a shower with a little bit of privacy and without having to do it at 5:00 a.m. before they all started waking up.

The finished basement of 1992 was a thing of beauty.

Note the plugs are high on the wall safe from toddler fingers and the temptation to stick metal objects in them. I am all about safety.

Tell me you’re not digging those purple and pink walls with a splash of teal? Hard to believe but I actually found matching toy boxes after we painted!

Many fond memories were made in the basement where those cute little twins were able to sweetly play with baby dolls and bugles…

She has always been tender-hearted and loving.

This one has always been musical even though we have stifled her development by never enrolling her in any music lessons.

She is also a climber which started early and led to much trouble. This is clear evidence as to why we’ve always called her our circus baby.

Every once in a while Wizzy would get the upper hand on that bully twin, Roger Leroy.

Excellent takedown Wizzy!

Basement play was absolutely exhausting.

Or mom and The Grunter just forgot about us and we finally fell asleep…lonely and neglected.

You decide.

All in all, our basement was a lovely, much-used gathering place for our kids, their friends, many birthday parties and loads of fun.

Until it flooded.

Once you experience the smell of wet carpet pad, ruined furniture and mold, you start thinking about apartments.

Please also know that I realize that a little water damage in my basement is so trivial in comparison to what the hurricane and flood victims must suffer through.

I really do try to keep my insignificant basement flood in perspective.

Even when it happened FOUR times over five years.

I’ll tell you how we finally fixed the water problem and about the fire on Wednesday…

To be continued…

Part two
Part three
Part four

Nice Dad a.k.a. PhilBillPaul

Monday, June 16, 2008 By Sherra

He has always been a nice dad.

Since he’s not my dad, I didn’t get him a Father’s Day present. Or a card.

Nice Dad always gets me something nice for Mother’s Day. Even though I’m not his mother.

You would think I would reciprocate by getting him something nice.

I’m pretty sure I have in years past. I just forgot this year.

So here’s my attempt to make up for my thoughtlessness.

Lucky for me I have this blog. 🙂

Here’s a photo tribute to what a Nice Dad he is…

I love to look back at the pictures and see how
he lit up being a dad, starting with The Grunter.

He didn’t even seem to mind when I dressed
my two handsome guys alike in pink shirts.

It only took him about eight weeks after the twin girls were born…
and a strong threat that he might find himself living in his car…
to jump in and actively participate in parenting two more babies.

Side note: We never call parenting “babysitting.”
BIG issue for me when moms say dad is “babysitting.”
As if I was babysitting while he was working? UGH!

He actually rose to the challenge and put many of the
other dads to shame taking care of his children while my home business grew and he always recognized that I needed time to myself.

That 4th baby just made his heart grow bigger.

Side note: Did anyone notice that in addition to being N-I-C-E,
he doesn’t take a bad picture?

Some day I know our kids will look back and realize what an amazing and involved Nice Dad that they had!

Until then, he’ll just have to take my word for it…

Each day of our lives we make deposits in the memory banks of our children. –Charles Swindoll

Take a moment to leave a comment and share a great memory about your own dad or the dad of your kids.

I hope you all had a wonderful weekend celebrating the fathers in your family. For those of you whose fathers have passed away, I know you fully understand when I say that I miss my dad every day and not just on Father’s Day.

Longest labor, biggest baby…

Monday, April 21, 2008 By Sherra

She turns nine tomorrow.

That last baby we actually planned.

The one that we waited so long to have because having one + two more in less than three years was daunting.

We strategically planned to have that last baby so that the first three would be old enough to babysit. That plan has served us well.

We also knew that we wanted an even number…um, why? I have no idea why except the first three so close together just threw me off balance.

I was sure #4 would round out our family.

I love, love, love babies.

I did know I wanted to rock and hold and nurse and love just one baby.

Side note: I confess that I did pray that there would only be one baby.

I didn’t know I would have to fight Roger Leroy (a.k.a. Mama Jr.) to get a turn to hold her.

I did know that that last baby would be adored by all of us and she would always be “The Queen.”

I didn’t know how hard it would be for her to have five pseudo parents instead of two. You have to have a lot of personality and a good sense of humor to keep up in our house. Obviously, she can hang with us.

I did know we would see the world through her eyes and she would make us slow down and see beauty in the simple things.

I didn’t know she would be my only girly-girl. But still love dirt and bugs and
caterpillars.

I did know that her daddy had more than enough love for another daughter.
He lights up in her presence.

I didn’t know she would test my patience in ways I never dreamed before the teen years even hit. Big sigh…

I did know that our family would be blessed beyond measure to have her in our world. And having an even number isn’t so odd.

Happy Birthday Baby Girl! You are beautiful and smart and funny.
We all love you to the moon…

xoxo
Mama

P.S. For the observant few, oh yes, that is a giant tattoo on her hand.

Little Lesson #4 Kids & Clothing

Wednesday, April 2, 2008 By Sherra

Here’s a little wardrobe management tip for those of you with kids young enough to instill some positive, early habits that will serve you all well through high school (hopefully).

With all four of my kids, I have found much success with starting them young on appropriate clothing selection. I’m sure another mother gave me this sage advice but with old age comes a fleeting memory.

Early, before our kids’ school went to uniforms (amen – I’m a huge uniform advocate – I would lobby for them in any school at any age!) we selected school clothes and after school/weekend clothes. Initially, we had separate drawers but then I found this marvelous invention.

Don’t ask me why there is a teddy bear in the Monday cube. I guess you can use it to sort toys?

There were several reasons this system worked great for us:

It eliminated any early morning battles because mama doesn’t function well in the morning.
It established a night time routine where they always needed to have their outfit ready for the next day including shoes and socks.
It was visual so dad could handle the system when mom wasn’t home.
It set clear expectations for what they could and couldn’t wear to school.
It was non-negotiable.

We did allow them to have a few of the character or shirts with writing that were not deemed appropriate for school. Nothing mean or nasty, mind you. Rather, the humorous or smartie pants shirts that I’m sure you’ve all seen.

They could wear these on the weekends or they could be sleep shirts.

Side note: The Grunter might just have a shirt that says “I love my wie#%r” with a graphic of a wiener dog. Ann’s son might have received the same shirt as a birthday gift from our family. I’m just saying they might…

I’ve had lively discussions with other mothers about their strong belief in letting their children pick out there own clothes and express their individuality.

Lucky for all of us, we all live in the land of the free and are entitled to our opinion.

Here is mine.

Forget about expressing their individuality. I always said they have PLENTY of time to do that when they get home and on the weekends. Make teachers’ lives easier. The clothing kids are wearing these days is ridiculous.

In addition, uniforms eliminate stress and the competition at school over labels and brands which I’ve always found ridiculous.

Did my kids love uniforms? No. Did I care? No.

They aren’t suppose to love everything. They don’t really love the uniforms they are required to wear for their part-time jobs. They aren’t really allowed to express their individuality at work either. Go figure.

This is the first year that I don’t have any kids in uniforms. I’m grateful that the clothing system was ingrained early in the big kids’ lives. The girls have their outfits out the night before and it is a huge timesaver since they leave the house at 6:30 a.m. (However, they have abandoned their cube organizer.)

Scary Baby has her organizer hanging in the corner where dad mounted it so we can all see that she has her outfit ready. It’s a great week if she actually picks her outfits for the whole week on Sunday night but that doesn’t always happen.

Many stores sell these great organizers. Try Target or Kohl’s.

If your school doesn’t require uniforms, you as the parent, can and should go over what clothing is appropriate for school and then stick to it.

Every school has a dress code and adhering to that dress code is the responsibility of all of us.

From elementary to high school, I continue to be shocked and appalled at some of the “get-ups” I see kids go to school in.

Our kids’ job is to go to school and be a student. Our job as parents is to make sure they are dressed appropriately and I don’t think that should be the subject of a big debate.

Common sense is the answer.

That’s my opinion…what’s yours?

The Cocoa Krispie Nightmare

Monday, February 18, 2008 By Sherra

This is a message of hope for moms with toddlers, tweens or teens who have some version of the strong-willed child. I know the pain of wondering if you are damaging their self-esteem, leaving permanent scars and ruining their childhood.

First a little more background on The Grunter…

He was born with a mild disposition and he slept through the night. He was an unexpected, unplanned joy in our life.

He was our pumpkin.

He became a big brother far sooner than we would have ever planned.
(If we had been planning.)

At 21 months, we brought home, not just one, but TWO baby sisters who invaded his world.

The days flew by and he spent his days letting his sisters touch all of his toys and protecting them from “choking people.” (You know those little Fisher Price® figures that went with the farm and various other toys.) He announced they had “choking people” at least seven times a day to which I would reply, “Thank you, Officer Humphreys.”

He endured being paraded around and photographed with those darn twin sisters. Here is just one of many, many photos he endured while dressed to match his little sisters.

Side parenting tip: It is much easier to count and corral your children in public if you have them dressed alike. I’m sure it also squelches their individuality but that’s a post for another day.

He even endured life when we had the nerve to bring home another sister the year of his 10th birthday. Weren’t two enough?

But he kind of liked this one who appeared to be his very own “twin.”

The above picture is Scary Baby at 6 months, framed picture of The Grunter at six months and The Grunter himself.

It has to be hard, still to this day, living with all these GIRLS! In spite of how he acts on the outside, we have witnessed his kindness and affection for them. On most days, he’s a pretty good big brother. I like to believe that he knows, deep down, that he would have been a lonely boy without his sisters to play with…

I shared all that with you first so you wouldn’t think I’m a bad mom for taking pictures of one of our many struggles. (Remember we’re all here to share not judge.)

I will be the first to admit that I think there is an extra challenge for mothers who are stubborn and strong-willed who are blessed with children who possess those same characteristics. Well, that and God has a sense of humor…

I am guilty of dreaming of having passive, quiet children who obey and never rock the boat. I have friends who have these ~~strange~~ nice children. Such a boring life these people have…sigh.

Instead, I have a boy who continues to challenge us in so many ways.

It seems like it was just yesterday but in fact, it was more than 10 years ago when our little pumpkin wouldn’t eat much of anything. (No comments from you vegetable-lovers please.)

I present you now with one of our favorite family memories. You know those fantastic one-liners your kids utter and you know right then and there that you’ll never forget them from that very moment.

On this day in September of 1997, that line was…

“WHEN WILL THIS NIGHTMARE BE OVER?”

The back story of this sad photo:

We were in a phase at our house where he was having a very hard time eating good meals. Yes, I am one of “those” mothers who often says, “You are NOT sick, you are FINE.” But when this eating problem persisted, I had a change of heart. I really did get worried.

Worried to the point of going to the doctor to make sure he was healthy. After many tests including urine, stool sample, blood work, x-rays and an upper G.I. – a clean bill of health was announced.

Dad made a special trip to the grocery and bought him this specific cereal because it “sounded good.” Unfortunately, the soggy texture of the milk and cereal combination (who knew?) coupled with our insistence that he eat the TINY bowl of cereal created a full-fledged meltdown ending with the now famous line, “When will this nightmare be over?”

For those readers who are concerned about the boy, his cereal and his life now…

Here is our ~~delightful~~ much-loved firstborn on his 18th birthday who never eats cereal and drumroll please…he is FINE!

Life Lesson (LL): Cereal and milk become soggy when not eaten quickly and the trauma of eating the said soggy cereal may cause you to seek out therapy later.

Share a Life Lesson (SALL): What awful things did you make your kids sit at the table and eat? Or better yet, what did your ~~horrible, mean~~ parents make you finish and you are still sharing those memories ~~in therapy~~ with a chosen few? Come on now, don’t be shy – this is a safe place to share!