Lots of Things

It's been so long since I've blogged, I have lots of things to say. I want an amazing reading machine, pool for the back yard, expensive sandals, and the money to buy it all. I wonder if all of you get sick of people being overly peppy and happy that you know it is fake? Do you, like me, want to punch them in their perky head? Do you get sick of listening to people brag about how wonderful they are at (A, B and C) when you and the rest of the people they are bragging to know they really SUCK at A, B and C? Worse yet- they brag (but really suck- AND are peppy about it). Hopefully am not one of those people because I do have some bragging to do about my kids.
First; I want an amazing reading machine, also known as a kindle. I think they are super cool. However, I will not hold my breath waiting for one for mother's day because Scott believes, "I got a gift for my mom. I don't have to get you one, you're not my mom." Noah and Ethan can't drive to the store and it is a very long walk, so like every year I'll keep my expectations low and hope they made me something in school. Unless their teachers also think "I got my mom something. I barely know your mom..."
Next; I want a backyard pool. I think the boys and I would use it a lot in the summer. Well, of course in the summer, why would we use it in the winter? I wonder though if it'd take up too much room in the backyard.
Third; I bought the Sketcher Shape-Ups. They are the ones they advertise that you will lose weight by just wearing them. I wore them for a month while I sat on the couch and it didn't really work. However, after wearing them for a day I realize I have muscles where I didn't think I had any, so they must work. I like them very much. Sketchers made a Shape -Up sandal. They are really expensive, but I would wear them a lot.
Fourth; I need the money to buy my new obsessions. I wonder how much a kidney goes for?
Next; OMG! Do you get sick of overly perky, FAKE people who are all, "My life is da bomb and everyone LOVES me and I am so perfect! God loves me best- he told me so!! It makes sense because I AM everyones favorite!! Don't you LOVE me too?" I am all for people being happy. I want everyone to be happy, just stop being so fake and get out of my face about it.
Sixth; How can it be that some people really suck at certain things, but they can't resist the urge to brag about how wonderful they are at it. For example; I can't read music or play any instrument. Imagine if EVERY conversation I had with anyone resorted to what an awesome piano player and music composer I am. "Well, hello there Sara. It's a beautiful spring day today. Are you taking your class outside to enjoy the weather?" "Why, yes I am. After I tell them about the wonderful new song I wrote and play it on the piano for them. I am a self taught musician you know. I hear music and then I play it on my piano, only making it awesomer." "That's nice. Did I tell you my cat died?" "That's too bad, do you want me to write a song about him for you? I could play it the funeral. I will give you a discount for my services being you are a friend." GAG ME!!!
Last; OK now I really am going to brag because I am not a sucky parent, so I can brag. Noah got a very high score on his Math MAP (standardized test) yesterday. The teacher told him it's the highest in fourth grade. He also got nominated to be president of the K-Kids club. It's a service learning club. Kids voted him in. I told him he should make people call him Mr. President or President Noah. This morning I was getting ready in the bathroom and he was putting his contacts in and I called him President Noah. He said, "It's so cool that I am the president." I said, "And Ethan can be your no good alcoholic brother..." Then I turned and saw Ethan was standing in the doorway. Hee heee. I will be waiting by the mailbox for my mother of the year award. Ethan has become such a good reader. It amazing how well he can read!! I am so proud of them both!

Happy Birthday Noah!!

It's my baby's birthday. I scanned both photos, but I couldn't successfully upload them onto my blog so I took pictures of my photos. Can't say I'm not a good thinker!

My baby is 10 years old. How can he be ten? That means in less time I've already had him, he will want to move out and not need me anymore. Noah was the best baby. He was so cuddly and happy. He never cried except when he was hungry and that was exactly every two and a half hours, so if you did a preemptive strike and fed him, he wouldn't cry at all. I wrote in his baby book when he was four months old that he went a whole day without crying. He crawled at five months and walked at eight and a half months. So he didn't see like a baby for very long. From the day he was born until I had to leave him to return to school the following late August were the best days of my life. I waited so long to be a mother. I told him today, that 10 years ago was the most important day of my life because I became a mom. However, since then I've noticed I can't remember a time when I wasn't at least kind of tired. Noah was a good toddler. I can only remember one time he threw a tantrum in public and it was the night my mom died, and we were shopping for a suit. You could always reason with him. When he'd lose things he thought the moon took it, and when he found it again, he'd run to our big picture window and hold it up and say "Thank you moon! Thank you!!" He was so easy to potty train. I told him a week before Ethan was born, when he was two-and-a half, "Mommy can't buy diapers for two babies. Here's some Bob the Builder underwear. Don't pee on Bob." "OK Mommy," and he was trained from that point on. When he'd ask for his "bobble" (usually when he was tired) I would tell him all of his "bobbles" were dirty. He'd run to the dishwasher to find that they never left their same spot. He wouldn't pitch a fit, but say, "You should wash my bobbles tomorrow mommy." There never was, or is any food he won't eat, he's not picky at all. He was a great pre-schooler and school age kid. He is so generous and thoughtful and smart. I know- it sounds "braggy", but if you knew Noah, you'd know it's inborn and has nothing to do with me. He's always loved babies. His cousin is three days short of being exactly one year younger than him and when he met her he was enthralled with her. Even now in church he entertains himself by looking for a baby to watch. He is such a good big brother and has been since Ethan was born. When they were little I'd put Ethan in the stroller to go for a walk and Noah would ask, Do you have his bobble? His "pasipire"? His shoes?- as if Ethan could get up and walk, but oh well. Even now, I rest assured that Ethan is more likely to make good choices if Noah is with him. Maybe I can convince Noah that he, like me, goes backwards in years on his birthday? That or lock him in his room so he can't ever escape.

Parenthood

Exactly nine years and 363 days ago I was about to be a parent. I wasn't scared at all. I couldn't wait to have a baby! I knew how to take care of babies, how to deal with toddlers and what to do with grade school kids. However, I really wish someone would have told me about the other stuff.
1. When I was pregnant with my babies, no one told me someday some kid will say or do something to hurt their feelings, or they will physically hurt them and I will feel so angry that I will literally see red and want to physically hurt that person back.
2. No one told me that I will live vicariously through my children.
3. When they were babies, I didn't realize that every decision I'd make from that point on would be centered around their well being.
4. Bedtime will come as a relief because you are so tired by 8:30 you could fall on the floor and go to sleep and finally the house is quiet, but it will also be a little disappointing because your time with them that day is over.
5. No one told me how children have no tact. Especially when they ask for the tenth time, "Are you having a baby because your tummy is sticking out", then they come over to "measure" in the air how much it sticks out.
6. You no longer sleep soundly, and you understand how when you hear about animals that can find their offspring's voice among thousands of others.
7. It breaks your heart to realize everything you do for them, yet they say something mean to you, or they can't wait to go to college or move out.
8. That you will feel regret for telling your own mom when you were 18, 19 and 21 "Good God! I can't WAIT to move out!!!"
9. I was very worried when I was pregnant that there would be something wrong, that I'd lose the baby, that something would go wrong when they are born, that I wasn't eating/sleeping/exercising enough. No one told me one day I'd remember the feeling of being pregnant and think, "At least then I knew who they were with, the choices they were making and no one was treating them badly".
10. I didn't know how amazing it would be. How one day there is this basketball that moves around under your shirt, then the next you have a whole new human being. That the baby will grow to a child who has your good and bad traits.
11. The majority of my paycheck will go to sports related things; sports gear, shoes, clothes, camps, new clothes, different shoes, etc...
12. That I should have bought stock in a sock company, and it's really hard to find quality socks and pants that don't get holes in them.
13. If you get the vibe that a kid is a punk or bully, you are right. Don't give them the benefit of the doubt.
14. You are excited to wake up in the morning if you know they are already awake.
I wasn't worried about childhood, but the teen years terrify me....

Ethan

Last night we were watching a great show on Discovery that's on Sunday nights. I even told my students to watch it. It's called Life and it's narrated by Opera. It's about animals in their natural environment. Anyway in the middle of the show, Ethan asked, "How are babies made anyway?" Like the good parents we are, Scott and I ignored him and silently prayed that something spectacular would happen on the show to distract him. He asked again. Again we prayed, more desperately this time. The third time, Noah responded, "You'll find out when you are older, you're too young." I asked Noah if he knew, because as far as I know he thinks the mom and dad have to pray really hard to have a baby- I've told him this several times. He replies, "Well, I have an idea..." I asked where he got his information and he said they will get to watch a movie at school soon. Two things made me laugh. Earlier in church that morning, Noah whispered to me that he wants a baby sister like the one in front of us and wonders if I could make it Chinese. The other thing was a movie in school? I wonder if they taped it off Showtime? Later, when Noah was reading to Ethan and I we were talking about personification (no we are not the nerd family)- it's when inanimate objects are given human like actions. As in the "ax bit through the wood". We somehow ended up giving lots of examples and Ethan said, "oh like if the toilet talked and when I'd pee it'd say, 'hey you- turn down that hose'. " Yes. Exactly.

Old...

Lately I've been feeling old. I watched a commercial where Addy McDowel tells us "You'll be proud to say your age, if you use this product..." and it goes to a "50-year-old woman who looks 30". That's 20 years younger. It's never crossed my mind that maybe she really is 28 and just saying she's 50, so I bought the product. I can't say I look like a teenager. I play this game with myself and the Sunday paper. I did it when I was thinking I'd be an old maid- even though I got married very young. Back then I'd look at the engagements and look for people who were older than me (to give me hope that I won't die alone as a barren woman). Now, I still play the game just to see if people my age- or older, still find true love. The way you play it is, everyone you see and think "Oh! They are older than me!" you read their announcement. I first scan to see when they graduated high school/ college. Six out of six that "qualified" for the "they are older than me" round were not. In fact two of them graduated from Fargo South in 2004, which technically would make them old enough to be my first students!! Do I look that old? I realized this year, I am no longer considered the "young" teachers, but one of the "old hags." I completely skipped the "middle of the road". Last year I was young. This year, I am old. I have more than likely lived over half my life already, yet I feel like I've haven't done that much. I spent a great deal of it looking for the damn "blue handled scissors" that never existed, and now I spend it looking for Andy Panda's pencils. When I look at the "old" teachers- who really aren't that old but think they are, and think of my mom who thought she was old when she was 30, I notice they are feeble. They can't carry in their own school bags- that's on WHEELS, so they make their husbands do it. They can't be expected to teach (not even a classroom of kids, but short little classes that are constantly canceled) AND be responsible for calling Jimmy Jon's to put in an order of subs because "that's too stressful". So they take the morning off from seeing classes to get the order ready. They think microwavable soup is a "new wonderful creation" and they read the directions on how to make it out loud just so you know it's easy. They are scared of technology and think all of the students are out to get them. Then I look at me. Yesterday the backs of my knees hurt so much from playing basketball with the boys on Saturday, I could barely walk. It even crossed my mind to make Noah carry in my purse to church. Last year, I was sure the fifth graders at my school were out to get me. I don't use the TV in my classroom because I think if I touch it, it will fall from the ceiling!! My students asked me how old I was the other day, when i told them to guess one kid said "60" one said "21". After I reminded her that I would have only been 17 when I taught her in Kindergarten, she said maybe I was 25, but this is the girl who tells her ma, "she don't like it when you says ax." Oh well. I better go put some Ben Gay on my achy knees before I put on my "house shoes".
Thoughts I think: Kids like April Fools jokes. They really think it's funny when you tell them you're taking them to Disney Land and then drive to an old abandoned parking lot of a burned down warehouse and say, "damn, Disney Land burned down..." They'll cry and cry, but deep down, they'll think it's a good April Fools joke.

First Communion

My nephew and God Son, Austin, is receiving his First Communion Thursday night. I grew up Catholic and the first communion is a really big deal. You wear a veil to show purity to God, you have a special dress and a huge party. I remember sitting with the priest having to confess my sins when I was in first grade and I couldn't think of anything so I LIED and told him I stole. He didn't really yell at me, so I confessed that I was lying about the stealing, and I felt relieved that I had something to confess. I remember him laughing. Even then I was thinking, "Are you kidding me? I am six!! What big sin could I have possibly done that warrants confession?!" That was probably the beginning of my Catholic downfall. I remember telling the monks (who wore sandals year round) during confirmation class that "It's so unfair. Nuns can't talk, but all you guys gotta do is wear sandals all of the time. I can't imagine not talking!! But it'd be fun to wear sandals." To which they replied, "It's also not fair that nuns can fly like in the flying nun, and we can not." That was my second downfall. Growing up Catholic you always feel guilt. I always had this feeling of dread. Psychiatrists call it anxiety, I call it "You're going to hell no matter what you do." Unless I am wrong in my remembering, it doesn't matter what you do or how you lived, unless you were a priest or a saint, you were destined for the place down under. If you lived a very good life, never swore, lied, cheat, steal, or thought of sex in any way unless you are conceiving a child, you might get lucky and go to purgatory and stay there for a million years. In High School, I would try to stay good by going to church every Sunday and teaching Sunday School with a classmate. However, to make my third downfall, all during church I thought about the classmate I taught Sunday School, and maybe made -out with the night before and all of the other Catholic boys. I just couldn't stop. Perhaps that's why I only dated one Lutheran. My fourth downfall is when I try to remember going to church as a Catholic the song, "My God is a Vengeful God!!!" comes to mind. I am not sure if it's a real song, but I can sing the whole thing in my head- parts of it are even in Hebrew. Therefore, it's no wonder I turned Lutheran when I got married. I jumped at the chance to change. Now I have this dilemma. Austin is getting his First Communion. I need to go to the service and probably take communion, but I feel like if I take communion from a non-Catholic church I am signing my one way ticket straight to hell. I have been Lutheran for almost as long as I have been Catholic, but I have only taken communion once- and that was at Ethan's baptism, so I HAD to. I feel like it's one of those mortal sins I promised not to make when I was six years old and lying to the priest about being naughty. I guess I am just going to need to suck it up and do it. Maybe on Easter Monday I can go confess the sin.
On a side note, all day I planned on either walking the dogs after school because it's finally nice out, or working out. Well, it turned out it was too windy to walk the dogs and I was too tired to workout, so I just ate chips instead.

Cleaning With Boys and Dogs; Why Bother?

I woke up at 8:00 and started mega cleaning. I cleaned the bathroom, started a load of laundry, cleaned off the kitchen cupboards, unloaded and re-loaded the dishwasher, wiped down the fridge, microwave, stove, cupboards and sink. I swept and moped the kitchen and bathroom, and let the dogs outside. I cleaned off and polished the kitchen table. I re-arranged the place mats, decided they look like trash, so I dug out a clean tablecloth and decided it needed to be ironed so I ironed it along with three of my shirts and one of Scott's. I put the ironing board away and the tablecloth back on the table and let all three dogs in. I noticed too late that all three had muddy feet. I herded them all into the bathroom, got them in the tub (at once) and ran water to wash their feet. Next, I realized I was cleaning the bathroom, so I had zero towels. I told the dogs sternly, "STAY- NO MOVE!" went and retrieved towels and returned to see all three dogs surprisingly still in the tub. I washed their feet, let them out one by one as I dried them. I mopped the kitchen and bathroom AGAIN , and cleaned the tub for the second time. I went into the kitchen to put the mop bucket away and saw Sam on the other side of the deck door! Asked- not so sweetly, "Who was the genius that put the dog with wet feet outside?" found out it was the biggest genius; the grown-up one. I tried to carry Sam to the bathroom. He thought this was some kind of strange torture, so he got away and ran downstairs to hide from me. I tried to carry him back upstairs, but once again he got away. I finally caught him and put him in the tub. I washed his feet. I mopped the kitchen, bathroom and landing (for the third time), and cleaned the tub. I went into the kitchen and saw Max outside. Max is smaller, so I just picked him up and carried him into the clean tub to wash his feet. While he is in there I hear Sam barking to be let out. I yell, "If anyone lets the dogs out, I will break their legs". This scared Max, so he hopped out of the tub and left muddy footprints everywhere leading to his hiding place in the corner of the living room where he sat. I told him, "Max, I can still see you. You are the worst hider ever," I picked him up and put him back in the tub. I washed his feet, dried them off and mopped up the muddy footprints for the (I lost count) time today. I cleaned the tub AGAIN. I cleaned the rest of the house, including scrubbing mud out of the carpet while the dogs looked at the backyard which was calling their name and barked to be let out. I made a nice lunch and was a little excited to eat on my clean tablecloth. Ethan didn't even sit down before he put ketchup on his hamburger, and WIPED HIS KETCUP FILLED FINGERS ON THE TABLECLOTH!!! I decided I can have a clean house one day when I live alone and I went to take a nap. In the middle of my nap Abby came out from under the bed and barked at the door to be let out. I love my dogs, but they are very close to finding new homes. I couldn't fall back to sleep so I got up and went into the kitchen. I cleaned off the counters because SOMEONE left not only crumbs of food on it, but actual big bits of food on it. I unloaded and re-loaded the dishwasher, mopped up the new muddy footprints in the kitchen and searched for the culprit. I found Sam and Max literally covered in mud on their bottom halves curled up sleeping together on the living room chair. I tried to cry a little, thinking it would make me feel better, but it didn't. I picked up Max, put him in the tub, then carried Sam like a baby (THIS he doesn't think is weird), dumped him into the tub and wash them off. I cleaned the tub once again. I looked for, and luckily found, my leather cleaner for the chair. I haven't even started on the downstairs yet. While I cleaned the chair, I told the boys (all of them) to clean downstairs and I'd be so grateful if someone would vacuum. Noah got stuck vacuuming THAT ONE STRIP, then apparently got tired and stopped- leaving the vacuum where he stopped. I shouldn't complain, at least I didn't have to drag out the vacuum again.
Thoughts I think: Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess is why several of us died of tuberculosis.