It happens in cycles for me.  I can go for a long stretch, months at a time, successfully keeping things together.  Sure I have my days, but self-control and responsibility pretty much reign.  Then things fall apart and I find myself in front of my computer when I should be napping, irritated that the polish on my real nails has already chipped from a Saturday manicure.  The inside of our house looks like a giant snow globe that someone shook and left lying on its side.  My hair is a matted mess as I have not washed it since Sunday morning and the kids have wrestled their snotty noses in it for two days.  I did not shower yesterday because I was home sick with a pounding sinus headache and dizziness.  I slept with Thomas on the couch from 1am-3:45am as he is recovering from the severe cold and sinus crap he gave me.  And his rattling cough is not improving which could lead him back to the doctor tomorrow after a weekend visit found nothing seriously wrong.  Did I mention I have been eating giant pieces from a red velvet cake Dave bought at HyVee?  I asked him to get a dessert.  It’s my fault.  I set the stage for my own undoing.  Christmas cards are on the kitchen counter that I could be addressing right now.  Presents are boxed up in the closet that I could be wrapping right now.  Instead, I have been staring out of the window at a tractor and two big trucks hauling snow from a giant pile.  Somehow I will get it together and smile on the news set come 5 o’clock.

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 17

I have never understood women, or men for that matter, who try to control the buying power of their significant others.  Sure you don’t want to live crazily beyond your means or spend irresponsibly… but if Dave wants to buy a nice dress shirt or to order pizza because he’s tired and hungry, I say go for it!  We both work hard for our shared money.  In a past relationship, he was not allowed to spend much of anything without pre-approval.  He turned his paycheck over and had to beg for some monetary crumbs to make a rare selfish purchase.  I don’t get that.  Yes, for the most part I handle the family finances.  But that’s because I have more time to do it and we both agree I’m more organized in that department.  So when Dave left me a voicemail today explaining that he could trade in our current snowblower for a much bigger one at a discounted price, he was hoping for my support to make the deal happen.  I called him back without hesitation and said, “Sure!”  Afterall, he’s the one out there doing all the work.  (P.S. We both put money in flex-spending accounts to cash out at the end of the year.  This made the decision even easier.)

Addie from Cedar Rapids

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 17

I should have predicted the week would be interesting when, two days ago, Charlotte threw her head back while lying in front of me on the couch and slammed my lip into my teeth.  Of course it busted open and bled.  The resulting scab blended in nicely with the dark brown lipstick I borrowed from a co-worker last night.  The incident was nothing compared to what came the following day with the blizzard.  Today we finally could get our cars out of the driveway.  I think Dave would have used a dog sled, if necessary, to bust out of the place he’d been trapped with the kids for nearly two days.  The morning mission was to find boots for Mommy that don’t have suede or heels.  No luck at Target, Kohl’s, Famous Footwear, Shoe Carnival, Old Navy or Gordman’s.  No kidding, that’s how many stores we went in and out of… the last three Dave and the kids stayed in the car.  All the options were either too short, too expensive or unavailable in my size.  So we ended up at the second Target in Waterloo where I grabbed a decent pair of size 9 boots that are waterproof with fur trim.  The trouble is they’re a bit too big.  I need an 8 1/2 but they don’t come in half-sizes.  Thomas had blood stains on his coat for most of the trip.  He slammed his nose into the side of the cart at the first stop, upset he had to be strapped in, and the blood started running.  Later at Olive Garden… yes, we were really braving it… Thomas put his mouth on the salt shaker, stuck his hand in my soup and slobbered on more than one breadstick.  What a week!  The topper:  Tonight I’m doing the 10 with a bandaid on my finger.  I sliced it with scissors while attempting to cut open a Crystal Light single lemonade pack.  Why can’t they just make the packaging easier to work with!

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 17

Dave told me to gun it out of the driveway in our large SUV.  That was my only hope of making it through our unplowed street and on to work, he explained.  I carefully backed out as he and the kids stood watch but failed to pick up the necessary speed and got stuck 3 feet out.  Hence, the above phrase exited Charlotte’s lips when we were discussing Mommy’s actions as Daddy and two neighbors dug out my car tires.  Turns out I would not have made it much farther as 3 cars are stranded in the street I need to take out of our subdivision.  Thankfully, my friend and co-worker Ron Steele came to the rescue.  Unable to drive in to my house, he picked me up as close as he could get… on the edge of a large field I needed to cross, ON FOOT.  He captured my trek on his cell phone camera:

The good news?  I’m here for our extended storm coverage with my Dillard’s blazers safe and dry in the building.  The bad news?  I will have to repeat this brutal, thigh-high hike around midnight.  Assuming someone will be able to drop me off!

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 17

If you regularly read my blog, you know I’m a food-obsessed individual.  The disciplined me left Dave and the kids this afternoon (all home from early dismissals) with little more than a Smart Ones and a 100-calorie bag of microwave popcorn in hand to get me through dinner.  The typical me emerged about an hour into my shift raising questions about food being brought in for those of us who may be trapped here between the 6 and 10 newscasts or (please, no) overnight!  I already broke down and got an egg salad sandwich out of the vending machine.  And between taking cancellation calls and annoying Schnack, I am consumed with thoughts about my next fix.  When will the possible pizza order arrive?  Who can I borrow money from in case I need to make more trips to the employee lounge machines?  What happened to my eating healthy and exercising during the week so I could be a little bad on the weekends?  Good thing all I have to sleep in, should I be snowed-in, is pantyhose.  At least they’re made with Spandex.

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 17

You were right.  I was wrong.  I should not have assumed/expected my parents would take on the bulk of my child-rearing responsibilities during our Thanksgiving visit or any other time.  Saturday night, Dave and I had a heart-to-heart with my parents via Skype (you know, the free video-conferencing service available on-line with web cams).  It went well.  We covered a lot of ground in a respectful manner.  Basically they felt a bit taken for granted and, at the end of an extended stay, got a little snappy.  I apologized for not stepping up more and pledged to change my ways.  The truth is I don’t see my parents as 65.  I forget they don’t have the energy of my growing up years.  We all agreed Charlotte and Thomas are the center of our universe.  And we need to communicate our feelings better as we go along so assumptions and frustration don’t come between us.  I am whole again.

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 17

This is one of my favorite pictures from my senior high school photo shoot.  It is hilarious to me that I wanted to do a “serious” pose, while wearing a red hat with obviously more hair than I could handle.  I never did go crazy with the teased bangs, but I followed many an 80s/90s trend.  Let’s see… tight-rolled and acid-washed jeans, fluorescent sweatshirts, tinted mascara, Keds tennis shoes, jelly shoes, sweatshirt dresses, thick shoulder pads, huge triangular earrings and tons of little circle pins on my jean jacket.  Many of these fashion displays are captured on film, fortunately.  Unfortunately, they will be a lifelong reference for my children to justify outlandish looks they’ll want to pull off.  And I won’t try to stop them.  I already told Dave I was fortunate my parents let me wear biker shorts under skirts and bandanas tied around my ankle.  They just smiled when I came downstairs looking, well, ridiculous some of the time.  In fact, they paid for these get-ups that, looking back, should have been on a fashion magazine’s DON’T list.  As long as it’s not permanent, like piercings or tattoos, I’ll probably be okay with it.  Well, I say that now.

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 17

Pictured is our pre-lit, artificial Christmas tree as it looked when dragged from basement storage and put up last month… and how it still looks.  I decided it’s better to have a nearly naked tree then one that will wage a constant battle with the 16-month-old.  He is already obsessed with grabbing Daddy’s asthma inhaler off the bedside table and running with it in his mouth… so I really don’t need to chase him with breakable ornaments and wire shoved in there as well!  Sad the hand-carved, wooden nativity scene that was a gift from Dave years ago had to stay in a box, too.  Last year Charlotte couldn’t leave the baby Jesus alone and also enjoyed pulling the staff out of the wiseman’s hand.  My health story tonight is about holiday safety, so I would especially hate to show up in the ER with a baby and an eye injury compliments of the wooden stick that doubles as a spear.  I also skipped the lighted greenery around the wooden ledge and fake poinsettia, but did proudly put the tree skirt down.  Of course no presents will ever make it there since Thomas would tear into them like a rabid dog.  Oh, outside the skirt are train tracks.  When he couldn’t do much but sit propped up last Christmas, Thomas loved to watch the train circle around and around.  Unfortunately this year he managed to break the nose off the engine and knock the batteries out of the coal car.  No word on where the bear holding the shovel has disappeared.  My guess is it’s somewhere hiding out with the missing TV remote, Thomas’ yet-to-be-worn winter hat and a thousand hair ties and snap barrettes!

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 17

I could have never predicted how much this blog would actually improve my life.  Most people never tell you how they really feel to your face, especially strangers.  But nearly every weekday, I share very personal details with anyone who has computer access and cares to read them.  Clearly based on many of the thousands of comments readers have posted, constructive criticism constantly fills my in-box.  And that’s okay.  Even my detractors are appreciated.  I have pondered every single one of your comments and, for the most part, come away with a new perspective immediately applied to my daily thinking.  You have made me a better parent.  I can learn from your mistakes and, hopefully, admit my own.  Anyone who sticks with my posts knows I am far from perfect.  I love my husband, my kids and my family more than I could ever express here.  But we’re human and we don’t always live in harmony.  Hence, Monday’s post about some holiday strife.  I am not capable of being all that fake.  Sure, I can smile on the news set when necessary but I can’t pretend all is fuzzy, feel good with my loved ones 24/7.  It’s not.  Please excuse my shortcomings and embrace my honesty.  It’s the only way I know how to be.

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 17

A promise of a “big girl bed” has been planted in Charlotte’s head.  IF, a big IF, she sleeps in her toddler bed five nights in a row.  Last night she fell asleep in her own bed, with Daddy’s promise to check on her, but ended up in our bed at who knows what time as we were both so tired and out of it we barely flinched.  I have not had a chance to talk to Dave alone to determine if last night should count in the tally.  I admit it was nice to come home and crawl in bed at 11:15pm with half of the king vacant.  I admit it was nice to wake up with Charlotte next to me as I’m so accustomed.  This minor breakthrough has proven what many a parent has told me, that this too shall pass and eventually she’ll be in her room permanently.  Of course when that time likely arrives Thomas will be big enough to climb out of his crib and replace her.  The way he can climb I should probably start being concerned about that happening.  A part of me wants to get Charlotte a bunk bed so when her brother is too big for his current confined sleeping, they can both sleep in her room.  Her door is literally three feet from our bedroom door.  So they’ll still be close.  I don’t want them to grow up.

Kole, Aubrey & Hailey from Ossian

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 17