Boys Will Be Boys

The food was pulled out of the pantry,
The juice was spilled on the floor.
The toys have all been torn out of their box,
And the clothes pulled out of their drawers.

The TV is blaring the shows I can't stand,
Because my child wouldn't stop sulking.
I suffer through the worst of the worst,
In an effort to make him stop talking.

Pick up your little trains off the floor,
No, I really don't want to play.
What I want to you to do is sit on your butt,
And let me have a good day.

Today is one of those days I guess,
When nothing really goes well.
I don't want to keep repeating myself,
And I certainly don't want to yell.

But I know I'm going to have to yell,
I'm going to trip over toys.
I'm going to be pushed to my limits because,
I'm the mother of two little boys.

Talk About Dedicated

It's 6:35 AM. My alarm has just gone off, and after a short snooze, I decide I should get moving. I know within the next 30 minutes, I have an important decision to make. You see, last night, before Caleb went to bed, the poor kid could not stop coughing. He isn't running a fever, he just has this nagging cough and a runny nose. I know it's just a cold, and I know taking him to the doctor won't do anything. But this morning at 7, when he was still sleeping, it was hard not to just let him sleep and tell the school he wouldn't be in today.

Well I heard him coughing, so I decided to go see how he was feeling. Upon entering his room, I find the poor thing still in bed, and coughing his head off. I ask, "How are you feeling today, Bud?" And he responds by telling me, he's "Not feeling very well, Mommy." At this point, I want him to stay home. I want him to sleep, and I want this cough to go away. I asked him if he wanted to stay home or go to school, and before I could even finish my sentence, he was out of bed and saying, "Go to school!" Alright, I guess we're going to school. He could barely eat his breakfast because of the coughing, and at one point, he actually asked me for medicine.

I wasn't sure how to handle this. I remember my childhood, and I remember trying to use the sniffles as an excuse to stay home. This kid can't stop coughing, and is actually asking for medicine so he can still go to school. I'm used to the fight, "You're not fevered, you're still going." Not the fight, "You don't have to go." "But I want to!" This is all new to me. Well, I let him go to school. A kid that dedicated should be rewarded. So what I did was write his teacher a little note explaining what was going on, and that if he were to get any worse to call me, but I figured I would leave it up to him. After all, he is the one who has to go to school and for some reason, he really enjoys it. I would hate to squash that.

"A Ministering Angel Shall My Sister Be..."

Growing up with my sister was like riding a roller coaster. One minute, we would fight, the next minute we were laughing so hard no sound was coming out. We fought over music, baseball players, and who already cleaned what. We laughed over everything and anything. Out of dead silence, and without prompting, we would both start singing the same song, at the same part, in the same key. She could take any class in school and pass without breaking a sweat. She could play volleyball as well as a professional, and make sweating (and falling) look good.

But more importantly, if I had trouble with a class in school, she would help me. She didn't get mad when I decided I wanted to play volleyball too. In fact, it turned into something that we thoroughly enjoy doing together. If I had boy problems, she would talk to me. If I had any problems, she would help me how she could. We've laughed together, loved together, drank wine and cried together. We've seen happy times together, and we've mourned the loss of loved ones together. Through it all, even through the dark times, came out of it together.

No matter what we go through in the future, we will go through it knowing that we always have each other; that our best friend will be right next to us the whole way. I am thankful that I was born a younger sister, because I'm not sure I could have made it without her. Happy birthday Mindy!

“For there is no friend like a sister, in calm or stormy weather, to cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands." ~ Christina G. Rossetti

Once Upon A Morning Dreary

Once upon a morning dreary, while I woke up cold and weary,
Wishing I could rest my head upon my pillow as before.
While I thought of simply napping, suddenly I heard the lapping,
As of someone tap-tap-tapping, tapping on the roof and doors.
"Must be raining out," I thought, "raining on the roof and doors."
This it was, and nothing more.

At that moment, I remember, I felt like it was December,
Cold and damp and dark and icky as all winters have before.
Long I stood there, hoping, praying, waiting there with cup and staying,
Until the coffee pot brewed it's magic juice no more.
"I'm not leaving here," I said, "Until my coffee brews no more."
"Give me coffee, and nothing more."

Cup in hand and chores I'm doing, while more coffee, it is brewing,
Giving me the strength I need to accomplish many chores.
Drywall, tape, and mud and spackle, nothing is too much to tackle,
While my friend is with me and it's energy I implore.
"Surely," says my body, "Surely you must sleep some more."
Quoth the coffee, "Nevermore."

Definately, Definately Not My Pants...Definately.

I can't speak for all parents, but the majority of parents thrive on routine. Not all of us have a set schedule that we never deviate from, but we at least have a routine. We do everything in a certain order everyday. It helps a lot, and kids usually love it. Unfortunately, sometimes they love it a little too much and our routine backfires.

A few days ago, a letter was sent home from Caleb's school saying that today the kids would be allowed to wear jeans and Phillies gear, or at least red or white shirts. It's awesome to know the school supports the Phils as much as we do, so I'm loving this. The problem is, Caleb is used to wearing his uniform every day. Each morning he has two options, khakis and a blue shirt, or blue pants and a white shirt. It makes it really easy to decide what he's wearing, and I never have to worry how he's going to look if he wants to dress himself.

Apparently, however, Caleb thinks that the only way he can go to school is if he's wearing his uniform. So this morning when I put him in jeans and a Phillies shirt, he looked at me with utter disgust and says, "But Mommy, I need my new pants." I tried to explain that the school sent home a note saying they were allowed to wear this today. Daddy tried to explain that it was a special day and he was allowed to wear them. We told him everyone else would be wearing similar clothes too. It didn't matter to Caleb. He was grumpy all morning and wouldn't even give me a kiss before he got on the bus. He just couldn't break from normal routine. To quote a good movie, "Talk about anal. He must have been toilet trained at gunpoint."

So how do rid ourselves of the routine monster? Just remember it's good to have a routine. But perhaps sometimes we should remember to be a little spontaneous. Spice things up and teach our kids how to go with the flow. Rolling with the punches is a great characteristic to have, so let's remember to teach our kids that too.

Down With The Sickness

It's that time of year again- the sniffles, the sneezing, the tissues, and the coughing have returned with a vengeance. It started with Caleb, who I assume got it from school, then it spread to Aj and my husband. As of a few days ago, I was priding myself on not getting sick. I knew it was going to happen, but I had a glimmer of hope that I would be spared. Two days ago, I couldn't stop sneezing, which is usually my first indication that I've caught the virus. I wasn't feeling too bad though. I plowed through my day without too much of a problem. By ten o'clock that night, I couldn't breathe through my nose, and my throat was so sore I could barely swallow. At this point, I'm still thinking, "It's just a cold, I'll be fine." Wrong. Very, very wrong.

When I had to wake up yesterday morning at 6:30, all I could think about was going back to sleep. I couldn't even make a pot of coffee. My eyes were swollen and puffy, my throat hurt, my nose was stuffy, and I was just miserable. It was in every one's best interest that I get more rest. After Caleb got on the bus to go to school, I came back inside and took care of the other snotty kid, who was obviously feeling just as bad as I was. So I put in one of his "Thomas The Tank Engine" movies, gave him his blanket and pillow on the couch, a cup of milk, and I went back to bed. I left the door open so I could hear him, and he knew where I was if he needed me. All morning, he watched Thomas and rested, and I was able to get some much needed sleep. This is the beauty of being sick while your child is sick. Usually, they're feeling like lying around just as much as you are.

You can call it irresponsible; you can call it lazy. I call it taking care of myself so I'm able to do my job as a mom as effectively as possible. And don't get me wrong, I hate it when my children don't feel well, but if I'm not feeling well, I appreciate it if they're not either. Now, where's my hot tea?

And The Whiner Is...

Between Sunday night football and Phillies post-season baseball, all I did last night was flip back and forth between two channels. In football, the team I love was playing a team I hate, and do I really have to explain why I was watching Phillies post-season? I mean, come on, it's the Phillies, and it's post-season baseball. Of course I'm watching.

But of course, in what I assume to be the real reason women traditionally weren't into sports, I was going to have to stay up beyond when I really needed to go to sleep. I prepared for the long haul, knowing I wasn't going to bed before midnight, and plopped myself down on the couch with a bottle of Mt. Dew. Game on. Back and forth between the channels, watching half an inning here and a possession there. Commercial? Back to the other channel. Both commercials? Potty break. I was doing well. I watched the Ravens game until they were up by 17 points in the fourth quarter with about four minutes to go and decided to watch the Phillies game from then on. It was easier to stay awake with the Phils on. Of course that could be because I was yelling at the umpire who couldn't call a consistent strike to save his life, but still. And right around midnight, both games were over. Raven win, Phils lose. Not what I was hoping for.

You want to know who the real loser is? Me. Because I ended up with just under six hours of sleep. Not bad you say? No it isn't. Not normally. The problem occurs when I get six hours of sleep. I'm the kind of person who needs sleep, lots and lots of sleep. I needed a cup of coffee to make a pot of coffee this morning. I think I dropped five things while making my kid's sandwich for school. Well obviously I'm not going to give up watching the sports I love, and I can't give up making Caleb's lunch on Monday mornings, so I suppose I'll just have to suffer until the end of the seasons. One thing I did learn last night? Caleb isn't going to school the Monday after the Superbowl.