Birthday Week

What a difference a year makes!  This time last year, I was engulfed in a constant sea of moving madness.  It was all packing, getting the ridiculous buyers’ list of inspection to-do’s done and yet still somehow (sorta-somewhat-maybe?) functioning as a mother to three in the midst of little league season to-boot! 

 

My birthday is on Friday.  Last year’s birthday was spent in a serious fog of stress and tears.  I remember Mom coming over in the morning to watch Kayli so that I could get last minute packing done before the buyer’s came to do their RE-inspection (ON my birthday – the nerve)!  We left the next day for Memorial Day weekend in Port Ludlow and spent that weekend stressed out about the inspection HERE, signing documents on-line and sending them back and forth to our realtors.  Then we left Sunday night, for one last night in our home, got up early on Memorial Day Monday, picked up our moving truck and the real work began…what a difference a year makes.

 

This year on my birthday all I really want to do is have normalcy.  The kids and I will go to Rebecca’s for the day where I know – as usual – I’ll get spoiled by an amazing gourmet lunch and such a fun time.  This is actually pretty standard for our playdate’s: delicious, gourmet, home-made lunch with a glass of wine.  Check!  The kids will be so happy to play together as during the schoolyear the boys don’t have as much time to do that. Then, we’ll come home Friday night to our usual, normal Friday night plans.  We’ll have Family Movie Night with the kids and do something easy for dinner.  The kids go to bed, Mike has his weekly on-line computer-game playing time with the guys, and I either take a bubble bath and read, paint my nails and watch a movie or chill in my pajamas and happily waste hours on such time-sucking marvelous black-holes-of-time as houzz.com or pinterest.  Mikey got me Les Mis on Blu-Ray so I’m thinking I may watch that again.  Yes, I’m looking forward to having just a normal Friday night for my birthday.  Mike asked if I wanted to do something else, but honestly, a quiet night at home sounds perfect. That must make me officiall OLD.

 

This is the first Memorial Day weekend in a while that we’re not heading to Port Ludlow.  I was just there with the kiddos over spring break and, with baseball in full swing, we have been going-going nonstop on the weekends.  A three day weekend at home to chillax-slash-be-productive sounds magical.  And next week, holy cow! Let the fun begin!

 

Monday (Memorial Day): we’re having our friends Cathi and her son Nicholas for dinner.  Cathi’s hubby Chris is deployed to Qatar or some middle easterny place like that, and we’re honored to get to spend Memorial Day with their fam.  Tuesday night: I host book club.  I’m planning on making one of my very favorite dinners for the girls! (‘Purple pasta’ – grilled chicken and pasta with red grapes in port, cream and gorgonzola.  Rich and delicious!).  Wednesday: we have a baseball game so it’ll be easy dinner night.  Thursday: I get to go play Bunco with the girls (a bunch of super fun moms that I’ve gotten to know from baseball and the boys’ new school).  Friday: yet another baseball game.  Saturday morning: baseball game followed by my super lovely, dear friend Katherine and her 3 year old daughter arriving for a three day visit!!  Katherine is my birthday buddy (hers is two days before mine) and we’ve spent a few of them together…especially when her hubby Dan (who is in the Special Forces) is deployed.  We’ve met up in Chicago and gone to Lake Geneva in Wisconsin, she’s come here a few times and one of my very faves was when I visited them in Monterey and Katherine and I dined with Clint Eastwood (sort of) in Carmel.  Ahhh, lovely, lovely memories and so many more yet to come! 

Mawesomeness

I look like a freak thanks to my mom.  No, really, I do mean THANKS to my mom!  I’m not ashamed to admit that yesterday afternoon, I called my mom and fighting tears and pretending to mostly joke (although not joking AT ALL), I told her, “I need my mommy!”  And I did.  And sometimes that really is who and what we need.

 

Yesterday morning, while running with my running partners, Andrea and Diana, I totally bit it.  I stupidly tripped on a stupid lip in the stupid sidewalk and stupid fell like a stupid-head on my stupid face.  Actually, no, thankfully, I saved my face and chin THIS time (as opposed to June 5^th, 2011, when I split my chin open on a 12 mile run and got to experience stitches for the first time).  This time, instead of landing on my knees and chin, I landed primarily on my right knee and left hand.  The knee was bad but not THAT bad and thankfully I was wearing Capri-pants and not shorts, so I didn’t have to dig dirt and gravel out of my knee.  The hand, on the other hand (yuck yuck) was another story.  A HUGE flap of skin was ripped and hanging there and underneath was a red, angry, gravel-dirt covered hole.  AWE-Some.  Once again, I amazed myself and shed no tears (those came once I was home and attempting to clean up with Mike’s help).  I stood back up and looked up, up, up our huge-ass neighborhood hill that I tripped at the very bottom.  Nothing but uphill from there – the whole way home.  Nearly a mile of pretty dang steep hill.  Cool.  Somehow, I managed to run home with the gals laughing and joking about how I managed to get through the uneven trail part of our run only to fall when I hit (yuck yuck) the smooth, paved part. 

 

Mike tried – he really did – to help get me cleaned up.  I'm not the easiest patient to work on.  We poured on Hydrogen Peroxide – the meanest creation in all of history – and I cried and writhed as it bubbled and foamed and…failed in helping us extract some of the dirt.  I decided I’d rather die of a gravel-dirt-induced infection than continue in trying to dig stuff out of my flesh.

 

Later in the day, I attempted a hot bath which many claimed would ‘gently loosen’ the debris.  Lies.  I scrubbed like crazy through my tears and realized this just ain’t gonna happen.  That’s when I called mommy.  Mom was already planning on coming over later in the afternoon to stay with Zachary and Kayliana while Mike and I went to coach Matthew’s baseball team to (yet another – 3 in a row! – victory!!)  So, I called Mom and asked her to stop at the store and find some magically numbing solution, to bring her First Aid supplies and to bring her Mom-awesomeness.  Her mawesomeness.  Seriously, sometimes, you really just NEED your mom.

 

She denies it, but I’m pretty sure she totally gagged when I uncovered my nasty wound.  She said a prayer (I said lots of prayers and some not so nice words in my head as well) and she began spraying and gently digging with a needle.  We’d put on a tv show to keep the kids entertained as I didn’t think that their watching Grandma dig in mommy’s open wound seemed like a good family bonding activity.  Matthew had started to come in the room and I said, “Matthew, go watch the show.  I really don’t think you want to see this.”  A little bit later, Zachary was heading towards us and Matthew yelled, “Zach, you really DO NOT wanna go in there!” 

 

After working her magic and extracting most extractable pieces of non-me that were in me, Mom bandaged my hand up and announced that I was to wear a vinyl glove for the next day or so.  The open wound is really hard to cover well as it’s JUST at the top of my palm; right underneath my fingers, keeping germs out is a good plan.  And if it means that I look like a left-handed surgeon who missed the OR, oh well! 

 

Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without having my parents close by.  At Saturday’s baseball game, they surprised us by showing up, and as I tried to run the dug-out (as is my Assistant Coaching gig during games), I had to deal with Kayli who’d skinned her knees on the playground – twice!! OUCH, I feel that pain!  -- and then a bit later, I look up to see Zach running towards us covered in blood.  He had a gusher of a bloody nose.  What I would’ve done without them there to help is beyond me.  Then, yesterday, despite the off and on pouring rain we still had our game.  If mom hadn’t come here to be with the kids I would’ve had to somehow deal with a sorta-non-functioning left hand, a dug-out full of wild 7-9 year old boys, a wet and miserable toddler and a beyond bored, full of attitude (and also cold and wet) seven year old as well.  THANK GOODNESS for moms.

 

This idea of ‘sometimes all you need is your mom’ is reassuring to me on so many levels.  I think about a conversation I had last year with Kayliana’s birth mom, Mia.  Mia, as an adoptee herself, talked about how, despite now building a relationship with HER birth mom, there’s just nothing like your MOM.  She understands and recognizes that while she WILL get to have an ongoing relationship with Kayli, when it comes to wanting MOM, I’M the one Kayli will want.  MOM is the one who raises you, comforts you when you have a nightmare, kisses your owies, rubs your back when you’re puking, digs random dirt-crap out of the open wound in your hand…she’s just sometimes exactly what you need.  Thank God for MOM.

Garage Sale-ing Success!

The day before Mother’s Day, Matthew and I seriously scored at a couple of garage sales.  I got some much needed clothes for Kayli (who, officially now 2.5 years old, is wearing 4T and up sized clothing).  Matthew got some awesome retro Star Wars toys that his Star Wars action figures fit in perfectly.  We got a few really nice Playmobil toys for Zach – a Viking ship, cargo ship, and police airplane.  And then I – nearly elbowing a guy out of the way – got the EXACT kind of baker’s rack I wanted for a little gardening station.  Let’s face it, the whole area is not ready for a Martha Stewart-Homes and Gardens-Pinterest worthy photoshoot, but it’s still awesome.  AND! We ended up picking up a REALLY nice recliner!  Mike has essentially worked through the pain, but never fully forgiven me for donating his pink, cigarette-hole-burned (thanks to a college roommate)  Lazy Boy recliner.  Hopefully, this will ease the sting a little and we can move past it. J

Zach's apology note

See below post for the reason I made Zachary write an apology note to his teacher.  His speaking bubble in the cartoon says "Bla Bla Bla."

Mombie (Mom + Zombie)

At least once a day, Zachary says or does something that cracks me up.  The kid is a character to say the least.  I’ve called him “Monkey Pants” since he was a tiny babe and the name still fits. 

 

On his seventh birthday, a little over a week ago, he announced his latest plans for when he’s a grown up.  He said, “I’m going to be an actor in the movies.  And then when I’m not doing that, I’ll be that person that decorates and puts furniture in a building after they build it.”

 

The other day, he and I were reading a book together before bed.  In the story it was ten days before Christmas.  Knowing that this would get a reaction from him (because it always does), I said, “Ahhh, no fair!  I want it to be ten days before Christmas!”

 

“MOM!  You ALWAYS want it to be Christmas!”  Then, making a high pitched voice (because apparently that’s how I talk), he teased, “I’m Jenny and I want presents.  Mine, mine mine!”

 

“Hey!” I said.  “I don’t love Christmas just for the presents.  I love the magic of the whole season.  You know, someday, if I die – OK, well, when I die – if I die before you which, sorry, but hopefully I will – everytime Christmas comes around you’ll think about me and how much your mom LOVED Christmas.”

 

“Maybe,” Zach said, “If you’re lucky, you’ll DIE on Christmas! And then…” with a twinkle in his eye, he continued, “Every year on Christmas we can have a funeral party at your grave and we’ll leave presents there, and you’ll be a Mom-Zombie and you’ll be all…” he extended his arms like a zombie and in monotone-zombie voice, said, “Euuuuuuuh, I’m Mom-Zombie and I like my choo-choo train present…”

 

I shook my head, “First of all, I won’t be a Zombie because I’ll be in heaven after I die.  Second of all, I SO would not want a toy train.  Maybe a new purse or something.”

 

These are the kinds of conversations that we have in our house.

This afternoon, Zach came home from school with an “S” on his daily calendar indicating that he had difficulty with “self control.”  (For him, this means, he was talking when others were).  When I asked him what happened today he said, “Well, I just sometimes run all out of goodness, you know?”

 

Baseball!

Baseball, baseball, baseball.  That’s really all I can think about, talk about and deal with for right now.  Mike and I were somewhat cornered/forced into helping out more than we really wanted to this year and are assistant coaches for Matthew’s little league team.  While I LOVE it – the games, playing catch with the boys on our team, watching them improve – it’s also full of stupid stress, ridiculous drama and the time commitment is riDONCulous.  This week is the most insane of all.  We had a game last night (at which Matthew got a hit each at bat including an RBI AND scored a run!); we have practice tonight; we have a game tomorrow night; we have a game Friday night, and we have a game Saturday morning.  And while I’m not complaining about the beautiful weather we’re having (yesterday was 85!), of all weeks to have a game or two rained out this would’ve been a good one.  So, we’re just slathering on the sunblock, putting on our hats and gloves and playing LOTS of ball.  (I’m already hoping – and am fairly certain – that Kayliana has a big T-Ball and Little League career ahead of her).