Monster Trucks and Insomnia

Has anyone else been woken up in the middle of the night (especially during pregnancy when sleep is so hard to come by) of a monster voice (completely loud, scary and distorted)? Been forced to face your fears (toddler in tow) sneaking around the house (slightly terrified and not so slightly exhausted) just to find the source of this hellish sound? No? Doesn’t ring a bell? Hmm,
Well…
What if I tell you the source was a battery operated (freaking) toy!!! Maybe now you follow me??
I seriously looked everywhere- EVERYWHERE before I found it, tripping on boxes and random stuff (did I mention we are moving??) and stepped on my fair share of little Legos (ouch! Why will they be the last thing we pack?)
Guess where I found this Devils device?
In the completely natural, as well as logical, place for a black and orange toy truck…- in the shower!

That was my night last night, unable to fall back asleep, even if my princess (no way that was her nickname in the pitch black house where everyone else seemed to be sleeping just fine) eventually did. I laid their cursing my inability to relax my body enough to just slip away- and then- as usual the thoughts come. The scare that is pregnancy, the lack of control, the worry, the fear of history repeating itself- except this time way, way worse…

It had been kind of a weird week, it started with something really odd happening. I felt that I at least had to mention it to my nurse but like I told her the “story” was kinda hard to explain without the Lego cars and Duplo people (that is how I explained to mom over Skype and hubby after work).

I drove my kids to my son’s school as usual in the morning- kinda late- also as usual. When I park I see that someone is sitting in the car next to me, she appeared to be on her phone and without kids in the car- obviously she hadn’t been late. As I rush my 4 year old and his “why questions” out of the car armed with his latest art project, lunch boxes (snack AND lunch), going back to the front seat for the “lunch bunch ticket”, putting shoes back on (at least I didn’t forget them), I see in the corner of my eye that the mom in the next car puts her phone down and turns her car on. I am late so I attempt to catch her eye. Maintaining eye contact, assuming that we get each other I move my way into the tight space (remember I’m not exactly skinny mini nowadays…not that I ever was…but…just saying). She is in one of those ginormous SUVs (black and hard to distinguish from all the rest) sitting very high up. I judge that I can still get darling daughter out of her car seat (and in my arms) but I did NOT count on her starting to back out. I must say I have a split second to panic slightly- she sees us right? Again I think we are on the same page as I signal to her that I will move me and my son out of the way so that she can pull out. As I close the door on my girl I realize that the driver and I are not on the same page- AT ALL…

I push my (luckily very skinny) son flush against the car while I turn towards the huge car in the very tight space as she rapidly reverses-taking the corner- AND my stomach with some speed. I actually scream, flailing my arms for her stop as my big tummy pretty much gets smashed by the left front of her vehicle…

She does see my then- looking surprised and slightly confused…did she not see the whale with feet trying to safely get her kids to school on time?

She then tries to pull forward again, making it worse by squishing my baby bump yet again. I yell for her to stop and she comes to an abrupt halt- actually looking appropriately scared now.

I managed to squeeze myself (not easy people) as I push my son (who is completely fine by the way) back towards the back of my own car. As soon as my sore stomach, son and I have reached the back of our car she reversed again and speeds away…

I get my daughter and we speed away ourselves- by foot that is- towards class.

Hours later I can actually feel the pain. I google the heck out of what I had just experienced but I think google is even more confused than myself.

What the heck happened this morning??
I know however that baby is probably perfectly fine in her (his?)  cushiony cocoon- me- not so much.

Later on both my sister and my mom agree that baby should be okay but that I should ask the nurse just in case, that the mom driver probably sat up too high to see my huge belly…but why oh why did I not even take her license plate number…? (I guess that was the last thing on my mind…and anyways what would that help?!?)

The week continues with another urinary tract infection and I wouldn’t even be worried except during my last pregnancy  a UTI developed into a full blown kidney infection…which might have been what caused my water to break prematurely…so yeah- worried!
We had to stop by the pharmacy to pick up my prescription on the way back from my son’s school.

Both kids are in rare form. My daughter refuses the cart and decides to run around pushing everything off the shelves while my son is whiny and super loud- asking (yelling) for some cookies. I rather not hold my girl too much right now but the adorable toddler turned shoplifting maniac doesn’t give me much choice as she stuffs her clothes with chocolate and some random medication (wait are those…condoms?). Returning the stuff is challenging while holding the squirming animal, bending and lifting while simultaneously managing a preschooler who screams that I am leaving him and that I’m being a bad mama! (Pleasant isn’t he!?). As we stand in line (kind of- at least I am trying) to finally pick up the antibiotics I can both see and feel the stares. This man actually goes as far as asking the old guy in front of him “can you even stand these screaming kids?” I want to snap back but I’m all out of energy, besides they are both being REALLY annoying. Even the pharmacist promises several times that we are almost done with the transaction and that I absolutely don’t need a consultation on how to take these pills. Who is he trying to convince me or himself. As my son screams for me to stop pushing him when I simply try to steer him towards the automatic doors I see the mixed looks of pity, understanding and pure irritation. They are all probably looking at my huge belly, thinking I can’t even handle the two I already have!!

To round up my week- my big ultrasound followed by my regular obgyn check up imagedidn’t exactly go as expected…

 

A Surprise Blessing

Okay, okay this is happening- it is true… yet it can not be…

I’m in complete shock and in utter denial, not because I didn’t want this (of course that would never be the case- ever) but because it is so impossible. I don’t know why I’m surprised really (I mean I did throw up in a porta potty at a wedding…and an airplane bathroom…rental car place and retirement home…) or wait, I do know why I’m surprised! This wasn’t planned and I’m a world class planner (it’s true ask my husband , note pad and my google calendar).

For Pete’s sake, I had wine at my sister’s and lots of it. I had doctors appointments and dental appointment with x-Rays lined up for my Mom’s visit. I’m enjoying sushi, sandwich meats, exotic cheeses, fancy coffee drinks and tons of tea and of course both salmon and tuna.  I’m eating fenugreek for increased milk supply (super bad), I have a toddler who just learned how to sleep through the night and then suddenly stopped because of something named hell…I mean “toddler sleep regression” and I literally have my hands full with my two!

I always wanted a third. This is true! I even fantasized about names, room themes, analyzing sibling order and gender preferences. We were three growing up after all (seemed the ideal number for us). Before our daughter we (who am I kidding I) had “planned on” trying a third time if we had another boy only. Really thinking that we would have another boy it seemed like the perfect plan. I know I know, there is no such thing as the “perfect plan”. But with a daughter and everything we went through I was just relieved and happy (satisfied…no really) and blessed beyond measures! By the way, I would have been blessed and happy with another boy of course but I can’t deny the joy over my beloved daughter (that mother/daughter bond is after all something really special…and I am by no means discrediting the “specialness” of the mother/son bond- this is just my story, but I also see and recognize my husband’s incredible bond with our son- not to say that I don’t have a bond with my son.) Anyways, I’m rambling!

After the water breaking prematurely eleven weeks before my daughter was due, the long bed rest, the premature delivery, the breathing difficulties, the blood issues, the infections…I’m just glad that we are all okay! She is a happy, healthy toddler today and I couldn’t be more glad and proud of her and how far we all have come! I am really truly happy and satisfied (really!). The mere thought of doing it all over again and even the thought of something going wrong… And worse this time, it’s just not worth it!

We have everything we could ever want and more. We are (were) so lucky and ready to move on as a family of four! Yet (oh yet!) the seed had been planted years ago (decades ago really) that I always wanted three. I didn’t have twins like my mom (which seemed convenient when I was a kid, mostly because well, she had two at the same time, eliminating another pregnancy and one of each- what a bonus!- but now after having to take care of one newborn at the time, realizing the catastrophic effort it most have been taking care of TWO of them at the same time.)

Talking about the “perfect plan”; after all the “drama” with our daughter, once we had finally gotten into the beautiful phase of real baby hood (after NICU and readjustment at home, having gotten a hang of sleep schedules and breastfeeding…nah, not really), I briefly discussed the idea of having another one with my husband. With our judgment cloudy by the sweetness of our baby and how everything had turned out pretty great in the end we both agreed that: maybe YES! My mom has this theory that with your rose colored glasses after having endured the pain of child birth and on no sleep and the added love hormones and endorphins cursing through your mangled new mommy body (newness each and every time) you always think it’s a good idea to have “another one”- preferably right away!! Because if you can do THIS you can do ANYTHING over and over! She might have a point there! Anyways as the year went on (also as my mom predicted) the desire went away slowly with each illness, nursing struggle and stinky diaper! Not really, because of those… because secretly I see myself as a pretty awesome baby momma! A baby momma ninja really! I got this stage down!!! And I love it (the following stages however…not so much…and they do grow you know… and fast). But starting over? All over? Doing it all over again? The sleep deprivation, the sore nipples, the confused zombie stage, the WORRY, the germs, the fragile vulnerability, the emotions? At my age? Hmm.

When my husband announced while we were working out (almost back to my pre-pregnancy body by the way with added muscles- even wore short shorts the other day-MOI!!!) that he would actually want another one, he did surprise me but he also opened up that achy feeling of maybe just maybe, one more. Aren’t babies amazing after all? And what about my childhood want for three kids when I grew up (my Barbie alter ego always had three!) I love, love babies, their dependency on you, their sweet smell, sweetness, baby rolls, their smiles, their trust, their tiny toes and noses, their cuddles and giggles and FIRSTS! But since I had just been through all of that and still have a BABY after all. We decided to wait until our baby was at least two years old to bring the topic up again (we also have our- my- “advanced” age working against us- but nowadays anything seem possible- and not as much of an obstacle).

I worry too… so much (probably too much) about my kiddos on a daily (minute-ly basis) could I get one more in my mommy heart to worry about?

I also can’t have anything happen to me since I’m a mom to two little ones and it would break my heart if something went wrong again (I’m not sure my psyche could handle that) and what about the logistics of not being able to concentrate on taking care of myself and a new life because two lives already depend on me? Maybe these are all mom’s worries? I mean I worried about my son before my daughter was born.

On the other hand I feel like children are the meaning of life and the ultimate blessings. Creating and carrying new life is miraculous. I just couldn’t help feeling like we would be asking for TOO much wanting another one (Hybris and all that), so we (I) decided to wait- hold off on the planning- that was the plan!

Yes I planned and yes we planned…and
Here we are! Amongst nursing a toddler and taking every precaution, we are still here!

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And we seriously couldn’t be happier or more excited!!!

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Before the Alarm rings… (by a very TIRED mama)

My alarm rings for the first time at 6:15 in the morning- 6:15…and I hate it- therefore I have a second alarm set for 6:45 (which I totally snooze until 7). I have been doing this since I was old enough to set my own alarm clock and in the midst of hating (I mean really hating) mornings, it kind of works. I mean it DID work…
Enters: kids!
I know it’s the same for everyone (which doesn’t seem entirely true by the way) and isn’t that the price to pay for parenthood (so worth it…right!?) but I really freaking value my sleep- OKAY!???
Then you shouldn’t have been a mom you say! Okay, first of all: who are you? And how dare you? Second of all; I know, I know- you have a point (huge sigh) but I am (barely) functioning here and I’m doing (pretty) fine!!! So there!
Go to bed earlier they say, well; ever heard of toddler sleep regression? No? Then stop talking (judging) right now! Besides I have this little thing called a part time job- I might only be a professor online but they do actually expect me to deliver university worthy courses and that people, means actual work and putting in the hours in between poppy diapers, grocery runs and preschool pick-ups! This is by the way my very round about way to tell you all that “I AM TIRED” really, really tired! So even if I signed up for this gig, I still really hate mornings!! Got it!

So this is what happens now BEFORE the alarm rings- yes you read right- before!!!
There are two kids in our bed. Husband has left (fled) already- and before you feel sorry for his early mornings consider this A. He actually likes mornings- yup! I married a freak! And B. He doesn’t get to be part of our lovely morning routine AKA hell (slight exaggeration here I know but still pretty much true) so yes he escapes and no; no need to feel sorry for him.
So there I am TRYING to sleep, trying to get those extra precious moments of zzz time while I usually have random fingers in my ears (no not mine), up my nose (again, I swear not mine), a butt in my face as well as a sliver of bed left to “sleep” on because at least one open mouthed snoring kid has decided to sleep diagonally on the bed (like it’s perfectly normal).

Even before the kicking starts (picking up in speed as well as frequency and intensity) aiming at stomach and face mostly (and other vulnerable parts), the slow twitching of eye lashes start (oh yes, I can hear them) and then the slow excruciating whining (worse than any chalk on any blackboard…truly). The older one awakens first with the words “MAMA ITS NOT NIGHTTIME”, the volume alone… and the words…the dreaded, dreaded words! My LEAST favorite moment of any day! Then we have the eyes, the bright, wide open eyes (kill me now) and the bouncing body (shuddering), next sentence is a toss up between “look, the sun is up” or the yelling of “what happens next mama?” “what happens NEEEXXXT?” Straight into my ear!

I am a pretty good mom, I promise and I love being a mom, adore my kids etc. etc. but the mornings…

Okay, said kid is being so extremely loud that of course he wakes his sister up (the bouncing alone) and she always wakes up crying! (Let’s face it, I would too if it was appropriate!) I console her as tear turns to hysterical laughter at her oh so hilarious brother (oh how I don’t agree- but she is his biggest fan after all).

Then the jumping starts…

I usually try to grab another couple minutes of shut eye- insert more hysterical laughter here…for anyone who thought I was being serious…or successful…

Well, I “try”, that part is true…

So before the alarm rings, I have a 4 year old screaming his head off that it is in fact “not nighttime”, a crying/laughing/jumping toddler, am sore from all the kicks and oh so so tired. I still refuse to get out of bed (obviously) so while holding a hand around my squirmy girl’s ankle and trying to ignore my screaming boy, at least I try to still rest my head on my pillow (until said pillow get snatched away and suddenly involved in an impromptu pillow fight).

And then the alarm rings (loudly).

This is what happens between the first alarm and the second (because being the most stubborn person stuck in her ways, and did I mention “morning hater” I still refuse to get out of bed); I rescue someone from falling off the bed, I dry tears, I send someone to the restroom, I turn on cartoons, I find iPad, water, missing sock, teddies, dinosaurs (all from bed), I defend myself from kicks, slaps, hits, bites, licks…even sloppy kisses and violent hugs!
I yell at someone, tell someone that I am sorry for yelling, rescue one from the other and the the other one from the first one…yeah! I think you get the idea. All the while, I’m trying to snooze like I always have since being able to set my own alarm…well, those were the days…before kids!

And then the second alarm rings (loudly)

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Yes Sir! and old forgetful Mamas…

Of course it’s the cheery, “earthy” teacher and of course there is no lunch bunch- it’s FRIDAY!!

I’m mortified (I’ve never thrown on clothes so fast or waken my poor baby letting her tag along in pajamas and wet diaper) which I also tell the teacher as I run inside the now (almost) empty classroom. “I’m absolutely mortified”.

I did have a vision of my son getting sadder and sadder as his little friends left with their mommies one by one until he was all alone, abandoned and crying. That, however does not seem to be the case. Little man seems absolutely thrilled to be having some alone time with his loving teacher (probably nicer and a lot more patient than his mommy…and she would obviously have remembered him…obviously).

For heavens sake, I forgot my child, FORGOT!! I’m a horrible, horrible mom!

“Honey don’t be! You know these things happen”, looking like they most certainly DO NOT- not in her world (I’m feeling awful and ashamed and… Just horrible). “Just wait until you forget them when they are in high school” hmm, now, what does that even mean? Slightly confused I continue to apologize (which she lets me a serene smile on her “no make-up” face. “But we were having such a pleasant time weren’t we?” Turning to my son who smiles smugly “no lunch bunch today, it’s FRI- DAAAY mooom!!” Well, okay, hmm, could I be feeling any worse!?

I back out of the classroom hoping I’m looking remorseful enough, cranky toddler on my hip (who does not like being woken up roughly or rushed) and drag my son along. Performing a whole other walk of shame towards our car passing the perfect moms who are now (AFTER school) having perfects picnics with their perfect little offspring on the green grass, and the preschool office where the door is open and the director ask how I am? “Well” I respond “better now” as she chuckles, she is probably judging me too.
Not one of my finer mommy moments!

I take the kids to Subway and a little bit of shopping (for kids clothes only) to make (myself) everyone feel better. I still can’t let my son have a cookie before he finishes his sandwich however and when he brings up the “no lunch bunch” for the tenth time I have had enough. “I forgot, okay!? I didn’t know, this was the first Friday and I just didn’t KNOW” I can hear myself screaming and feel people starring at the mall food court. Well, I am being rather loud now, ain’t I, but I can’t seem to calm down so I only get louder “so there is no excuse for you NOT to eat your sandwich (which is just cheese-nothing else, not toasted) so just eat it or NO cookie- EVER!!!” I even stun myself and apparently my son, his reply being “Yes Sir!”

Gap kids has a sale for member only and I have calmed down as I make the honest promise to myself to be the “nicest mommy ever”… For the rest of the day. My little preschooler is being extra helpful (probably sensing an impending mommy mental break down) and runs around looking for his size “with a 4 on it”, then he looks for a 1 for the baby (no time to explain the whole month system). I even let him get some rather hideous buffalo socks! Before we pay he asks how old I am, with a grimace I half whisper “35”. “Why are you whispering mama?”
“Because mama is really old”,  he looks puzzled for a second then he announces that he will be right back. I see him from my place in line, scanning the racks of clothes, flipping the hangers, ready to abandon my place as soon as he wanders off but instead he comes skipping back handing me a dress in pink!

Size 3-5!

Perfect!

“Even old people need clothes mommy!”
Dang, isn’t he just adorable!!!

Big tough mama thug…

Last week returning some stuff at Target (what is it with that store…? You go in for one thing or return a couple items only, and it lures you in with its magical powers and $200 later…) my kids were the least of my problems.

So I’m browsing, realizing that I MUST (urgently need really) some stuff like sparking water (a necessity), baby food pouches (always), little cute, sparkling headbands (well, you know…). My big kid is in the cart trying to hold on to the increasing number of items (I’m really not trying to cover him with household must-haves, baby essentials and crucial clothing items here… but am struggling) and baby in the cart seat.

As I’m strolling along, kids actually behaving (mostly due to the small placating toy and unhealthy snack item-hey I’m human!) my son decides he is dying for some “green stuff”. The green stuff are these dried (and probably fried…?) salted snap peas that he likes to munch on lately. Slightly excited he didn’t ask for candy or cookies (the dreaded “c-words” along with chips and chocolate) I head over to the produce section (because ironically that is where they keep them).

While I’m there I might as well get some apples (naturally) and some veggies for taco night (but of course) and hey, there is the dairy aisle and aren’t we almost out of yoghurt…and milk…? Most certainly milk (can’t be sure because nobody really drinks that stuff but hubby). I grab some stuff (watching my son disappear slowly- only his blond head popping up out of the growing merchandise mountain…it’s not that bad, besides I’m now in the healthy food section…what’s more important than that?) but have to stop my shopping dance in front of the “green stuff”. A Target employee is blocking them and some dried fruit (definitely better than candy) and some interesting looking bagels (so cute and wheat…pretty sure they’re wheat…at least they are sort of brownish looking…better take a closer look…

I’m on a roll here (trying not to impersonate the shopoholic but hey, this is good) so I inch closer to the guy working by the stuff I need and announce in a loud voice “I’m just going to steal some of these and a couple of those”…

As I reach over his arms (he is arranging the “green stuff”) he loudly clears his throat…
You seriously won’t believe what happens next…

The employee asks me why I said that I was going to steal multiple items (wait…what???). I’m so confused, why would he think that?

The target guy stops me as I’m about to back away (this man is clearly not sane…) and announces “that he isn’t comfortable with my statement “to steal” (I can barely remember saying that as it is a saying and I now suddenly wish I would have phrased it differently, very differently) as I unfortunately laugh (wait, is this the same as joking about bombs in airport security…its not, right!?)

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Apparently that was the wrong reaction (but come on!!! Really??) because he looks incredibly serious as he starts talking in his walker talkie thingy (yes this happened!). He tells me to stay put while he calls a manager. I hesitate as I stand with my overflowing cart and my two (now) whiny kids. I take a couple of steps towards him trying to explain that really “can I steal some of these” is really an expression and I never (honestly) meant to steal anything (I know my kid took something from the grocery store so you might be on this nutty guy’s side too… but seriously I didn’t see it AND we took it right back…remember!?). He puts his hands up in front of me (like I’m going to attack him or something…major eye roll…is this happening??) and tells me to please step back and to sit tight (maybe I should sit down too…to take him literally…) but I guess I feel kind of sorry for him at the same time as I’m too polite (and frankly feel a bit uneasy) so I  just stand there with my children at our local Target waiting for a manager because I said that I was going to steal…(only me…)…

Apparently when you are a mom you just FIX IT…

After dinner, on our way to the car there is an unfortunate round, artsy fountain looking thing with water basically shooting out from the ground…

Yes, you guessed it, I told my son “we are not playing in the water, we are going straight to the car” several times before walking by it. His little friend was allowed to play near the water and run for a little bit (it is then so difficult to deny your son to do the same but the other boy’s behavior at dinner was definitely better than my boy’s, so he had earned some run and play time). That is exactly what he did; he ran and he played. I stood firm in my decision however, that we were saying bye and going to the car.

My son had other plans (what else is new?). He let go of my hand as I struggled to hold on to the squirming baby (you know how babies get) and he went straight for the water!

He was soaked and laughing by the time I got ahold of him. I wasn’t…

Laughing that is, I was more like…boiling…

What now? It’s not like I wanted to be “that mom” yelling and screaming at my son in a public place (in front of my friend and her kid) while juggling the baby and also trying to hold on to his slippery body to keep him from running right back to the water. I felt it though, the anger…oh how I felt it. The cones, the dinner, the obvious disobedience! But I swallowed it trying to remember that he is just a little boy wanting to have fun and not understanding why the rules are there… for a reason. In my head I frantically yell, no TV, no iPad, no Legos, no freaking dinosaurs…no fun!! EVER again!

I look at the reason I said “no water” though right now.  There was obviously no way he could just innocently play NEAR the water, casually watching it like his friend. Nop, of course not (that would be so out of character!) Now he is blue lipped and shivering, “mommy, I’m cold…Shirt and pants please”…

Back to the bad mama title…I did not have a change of clothes with me for him (baby yes! Four year old, no!)

This was quite the dilemma for multiple reasons; he was literally wet all the way through his clothes and I didn’t even have a towel that he could sit on in his car seat. He hates getting his clothes wet and wants to change out of them immediately (I know so ironic, right?!…I certainly didn’t get him into this situation but apparently when you are a mom it doesn’t matter…you are still suppose to make it right- you still have to be there to FIX IT, and I have a sneaking suspicion that will not end any time soon). The other issue was that we had to pick up some groceries on the way back home (in desperate need of some yoghurt, water and wipes…I know, bad mama planning…but to be fair to, well me…their dad forgot some stuff at his last grocery trip, and baby now drinks these drinkable yoghurts too… bottom line being, we now have to buy more).

I’m pretty sure they won’t allow a wet and NAKED boy at the grocery store (in one of the fancy neighborhoods too…not that that matters, but you know…), even if he is four!

Luckily my ever so resourceful friend had an old change of clothes (size 3 t) for her son that she lets us borrow!

What would I have done without these clothes? Probably driven home with a naked little guy strapped into his car seat, no yoghurt at nighttime for my littlest and no wipes for baby’s next poopy diaper…

What happens at the store is not even funny and I’m don’t want your pity anyways…

Well, okay maybe I do…a little.

Just so you do get an understanding of why I finally snapped I will give you a sneak peak into my Thursday night (turning way later than I planned and ended up way passed bedtime). Let’s just say it involved a tower of apples getting knocked down with what seemed like hundreds of bright red apples rolling frantically in all different directions of the store (you don’t have to tell me, I KNOW this has happened before), someone chocked on a bread roll and managed to throw up, someone got bit, someone got pinched (in retaliation), someone stole (don’t worry the item was returned…along with my sanity)

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and someone had a nervous breakdown!

Well there you have it! That’s all folks!

“Boys will be boys”…

It’s been a year since I last took my son to soccer. Then he had a really difficult time following directions and more importantly understand them (soccer balls are definitely not dinosaur eggs! And why should I chase you now, when I wasn’t allowed to a while ago?). He was barely 3 years old and had a brand new sister at home and more ants in his pants than the soccer coach could handle. I stood at the sidelines trying to help and stay involved but truth be told, I was honestly mostly nursing the baby (like every five minutes-still hadn’t gotten the hang of the whole breastfeeding in the baby carrier yet while standing/covering up) and I was also concerned about my little preemie getting too much sun, getting too hot, being exposed to germs…you name it. Which by the way I now realize was maybe not fair to my little guy, but you know what? The baby really needed me back then (like desperately) and it wasn’t like my boy was unhappy. He ran around like a little wild horse, managing to do exactly the opposite of whatever the coach was telling them to do. Thank goodness his little “bestest girl’s” (it was love even back then) mom was there to lend a hand (such tremendous help I don’t know how I would have survived soccer and numerous other things without her).

This is why I was quite pleasantly surprised (try stunned) that soccer went so great this time around. First of all the coach (a super tanned, slightly older, muscular woman, I swear she must be Californian “born and raised”) seemed really great with the kids, but my son actually LISTENED, took advice and followed through! Amazing!

He went with his little buddy who also did great (but that has always come more natural for him) and they both seemed to have a genuine fun time. That always warms a mama’s heart!

I didn’t exactly get to rest by the sidelines despite my son’s good behavior, because remember that little needy preemie girl? Yes, now I had to run after her (chasing her in a mad dash), trying to prevent her from stealing soccer balls and team jerseys: my goodness she has become fast and stubborn!

It was what came after the soccer that nearly had me snap (in half-no putting me together possible….nearly). Well it actually started as they set up for the next group of little soccer players; my own little player kept kicking the cones and throwing away the colored jerseys   (they were supposed to be covering the cones for the game). On purpose! I get so upset with him, why would he do that? After he had done so well too. Eventually he got reprimanded by an older coach who had come to watch and only then would he put the cones and jerseys back (reluctantly) despite my persistent instructions for him to do so-while our friends were waiting (sigh).

We then had the brilliant idea to go to dinner (like in a real restaurant) because the boys were probably hungry (I know I was). No hunger is worth what we had to suffer through at that restaurant though…

I stayed (relatively) calm through the loud talking (lets tell it like it is shall we: screaming), standing while screaming (not sitting), not eating, while standing and screaming. I almost stayed (semi)- calm while they (both but guess who was the instigator AND motivator) threw crayons out the window (yup!) and force held him on my lap only after the fifty eleventh time I had “calmly” (well, you know), told him “don’t stand, yell, throw, kick, run, spit, hit…”

I’m pretty sure people were starting to go from uncomfortable to actually bothered. There were other people with kids at this place and we were sitting outside (outside voices ha ha) but my friend and I both had to agree that these angel children surrounding us most be much older (well, clearly). Her son behaving much better of course but if we were under any kind of illusion that we could sit and actually have a meal, we were obviously harshly and rudely mistaken.

As “sony” dearest apologizes and gets to go back to his chair (still standing) he starts playing with his cup of juice as I tell him “no” repeatedly. There was a lot of juice and ice in that cup and a trendy older couple have just taken their seat right next to us as the sticky liquid literally gets everywhere, including the side of their table and place setting. Right!

I take a last longing look at my barely touched Caesar salad as my darling daughter announces with a wail that she is SO OVER IT. What happened to my princess who has actually been SITTING and EATING QUIETLY this entire time?

Yes, this all happened and I might be sweating and my frustrations level is high (but boys will be boys and all of that…) but that is STILL not what11255083_10153470895312640_1099744101406841331_n 11667398_10153470893907640_6299264496710203145_n 11705231_10153470893912640_7962492476381349670_n 11737807_10153470893957640_2818763555144195694_n 10425159_10152532816852640_9205249070484135330_n

pushes me over the edge…

Oh, have they been practicing (preschool graduation time)!!!

It has been a week of graduations, as I mentioned our son’s preschool graduation was quite a wild ride! After the swedish school one with two rowdy “ants in their pants”, LOUD kids I was prepared and ready, or so I thought…

My husband takes an hour off of work (what a rare treat!) to come see his little man graduate! It starts off tame enough, thanking the teachers, chatting some with other parents, dropping of the gifts and flowers…

Then it’s time for the little 3 and 4 year olds performance in the church. Even though our little guy doesn’t really seem like he is singing it looks like he is following along and getting most of the gestures and dance moves right! I’m quite impressed actually. But when it comes to answering their main teachers questions…

They are all so cute, the kids, all dressed up and a little nervous. Apparently they have been practicing what to say for months. Part of the “performance” or the “exercise” is to answer all questions in a complete (full) sentence as the teacher, mrs. B keeps reminding them. They all go one by one. They did great with some gentle reminders (not to copy one another, “remember what we practiced” and “start the sentence with “I”). The first answer by our boy turns out okay. They all answer what their favorite classroom toy is! I nudge my husband, hoping that our son will have an audible answer that makes some kind of sense and we get lucky- well, semi lucky, he answers “dinosaurs” (man, do I clap, it makes total sense! Never mind that the “full sentence” was a barely audible mumble). But there it was, “dinosaurs”, favorite toy, boom! Great answer. We later find out that they do not have any dinosaur toys in the classroom (never have)… Oh well…

Next question; favorite teacher? Are they really allowed to ask this? The answer format is now supposed be “my favorite teacher is …” (Again, they have apparently been practicing for months…)

“Miss. Richardson” …

Slight confusion, exchange of looks between the two teachers. I know why, there is no miss Richardson at this school, she is his main teacher at his other school, oops!…

Next question (they have apparently “interviewed each kid separately so he really should have this down!). “What do you want to be when you grow up?” (What not WHO)…
Firefighters, a couple of princesses, police officer, a flower (hmm, slightly quirky, right…?), astronaut! And our son’s answer? “Daddy”. Aww, that is so adorable (I think…), more clapping!

“When we go to chapel, pastor B talks about?” Our kiddo’s answer…

“Daddy”

Eh, well hmm!
His daddy getting looks and feeling somewhat uncomfortable (I’m pretty sure pastor B does not talk about “daddy”). I see a slight theme here, well he is his father’s little mini clone after all!

Last answer (Oh! Have they been practicing!!!)

“What’s your favorite thing to do at preschool?” Lots of “playing in the garden”,”swinging on the swings” “riding the bikes”, “making play doh” and “circle time” full sentences naturally!

“Remember William, say it in a full sentence”
Drumroll please…

His parents are cringing in the second row (pretending to be busy with baby sister).

“Full sentence!” he exclaims,  “Eh that’s right honey…let’s try again”…”my favorite thing to do at preschool is…?”

Our son answer loud and clear “swim with A” (his little “girlfriend’s name”).

Never mind that she does not go to his preschool or that there is no swimming(pool) at his school…

Good job buddy! Nobody got (understood) his answers but you know what we did, and he looks so cute and confident and all grown up and I know that we are both insanely proud of our little guy.

When I’m left alone with the kids we sit down to juice and cupcakes. After an unfortunate “spill”, a sneezing over the cupcake incident  and a minor fall (with a few tears), my son asks to get the dinosaurs out of the car. I have no idea what he is talking about, I didn’t even know he brought some with him. He takes my hand and won’t leave me alone until I go with him to the car. There they are in the backseat a couple of dinosaurs in a green box from his room (how did he sneak those in there?).

“What do you want to do with these Hun?”

“I want to put in the classroom so all kids can play dinosaurs!!” Hep! And so we do…

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