Waking up is hard to do.

I love Peyton.  And Loralie.

A few days ago Peyton wanted to read books in her room with Loralie and me.  It was pretty early in the morning and Loralie was still sleeping.  I told Peyton that she would have to wait until Loralie woke up.  She shrugged and said, "Okay.  No problem."

I smiled at her grown-up attitude as she walked down the hall to the bathroom.  I heard the sink immediately and thought, "Aww...Peyton is so big!  She gets her own cups of water and tells me 'no problem.'"

Seconds later I heard the pitter-patter of Peyton feet.  Then a shrill, horrifying scream.  I ran to the girls' room, toward the sound of the screaming/crying.

Loralie was sitting up in her crib, looking to me for help with a confused expression on her face.  Wet hair clung to one side of her head and water was dripping down her sleepy face into her eyes.  She was too distraught to even wipe it away.  Peyton stood near the crib with a proud expression on her face.  Before I could say anything, she smiled in triumph and said, "She's awake now!  We can read books!"

My poor, sweet Juju.  What a terrible way to wake up.  I never had a sister throw a cup of cold water on me, but I did wake up once by getting thrown into a pool by my dad.  Not pleasant.

I explained to Peyton that we cannot wake people up that way.  She seemed genuinely concerned and got a towel for Loralie.  As Peyton wiped the water from her sister's face she said in a motherly voice, "Aww..Juj.  It's okay.  I'll read you a book."

A Thursday Play-by-Play

So, Occasionally I have meltdowns.  You know, after crappy or stressful days.  (For some reason, my sister-in-law always sees or calls me on these days.  Kim, I swear, I am not always emotionally unstable.  Cross my heart!)

This is how my day went yesterday.

8:00 a.m. Peyton and Loralie were crying because they wanted cereal.  I got the cereal down and opened the box and dropped it, spilling Cheerios everywhere.  I cleaned it up.  No big deal.  Then I went to pour milk into the bowls.  It was lumpy.  The milk had expired.  We had 2 gallons of expired milk in our refrigerator.  How does that even happen?  We drink milk ALL the time!  Whatever.  No big deal.

8:30 a.m. Finally convince the girls that they really want oatmeal for breakfast.

9:00 a.m. Meet with my internship provider for next semester to iron out how things are going to go.  I am going to be spending a lot of time away from my girlies.  I hate it, but it is only temporary.  Not a huge deal.

10:00 a.m. Continue working on the paper that is due in a few hours that I should have done weeks ago.  I kick myself for always doing this.  Not awesome, but no big deal.

12:30 p.m. Put the girlies down for a nap.  Loralie was sooo sleepy.  Peyton kept her up the night before until almost 11 reading books and singing songs to her.  But, you know, no big deal.

1:30 p.m. Peyton comes into the office and sees that I am snacking and sticks her hand in my bag of snacks and eats.  I told her that she was supposed to be taking a nap.  She said, "Okay.  I just had to change Juju's diaper."  I laughed, thinking she was kidding.  I took another big bite of my snack and said, "Okay, Peyton.  Nice work.  Go to bed."  Then she said..........."Okay.  I have to wash the poop off my hands, first."  I froze for a second.  "Wait. Did you really change Loralie's diaper?"  I looked at her poopy hands that had been in my snack bag and I knew my answer.  I spit out the food in my mouth.  I wanted to throw up.  As I ran to the girls' room Peyton giggled and said, "Not worry.  It is under control.  I did it by myself!"  Loralie was laying in her crib.  Naked.  Wiping herself.  To Peyton's credit, Loralie's butt was very, very clean.  Everything else was not.  The room smelled terrible.  I tried not to make a big deal out of it because Peyton was so proud of herself for being helpful and she kept saying, "I did it all by myself!"  I hosed Loralie and Peyton down in the tub.  They didn't appear to have poop on them, but when everything else had that much poop on it, I just knew that they couldn't possibly be germ-free.  As I did this I made a mental note to wash my mouth out.  With bleach.  Then I wiped up the girls' room.  I couldn't find Loralie's poopy diaper anywhere.  Then I found my blanket.  Peyton had wrapped the open poopy diaper up in my blanket, along with no less than 20 poopy wipes.  I take care of that nasty mess.  Then I put the babies back to bed, and frantically get back to writing my paper.  WHY did I not do this earlier!?  I have no time!  I need to finish this and submit it before I go to work!  But...no big deal.

2:45 p.m. Get distracted from the paper for the 50th time.  This time I am distracted because I know that Chris is in an interview and I'm saying prayers for him and sending positive vibes his way.

3:00 p.m. My client calls to cancel.  Clean up my house because I cannot concentrate in such a huge mess. Messy, but no big deal.

4:00 p.m. Realize that if I get a 40% on this paper, I can still get an A in the class.  Finish and submit my paper.  It is a big piece of crap.  Who cares.  I will pass even if I turn in nothing.  No big deal.

5:00 p.m. Start dinner.  Homemade pizza.  I don't want pizza.  I want grilled chicken.  We didn't have chicken...or anything else.  We have stuff to make pizza.  Awesome.  At least we have food.  Pizza=No big deal.

5:15 p.m. Preheat oven.  No big deal.

5:30 p.m. Notice a weird smell and smoke coming from the kitchen.  Instantly remember that I left my favorite Pyrex bowl full of Puppy Chow in the oven.  This shouldn't have been a big deal.  It was, though.  It was a big deal to me. I think Chris could actually see my heart break and I tried not to cry.  He's amazing.  Instead of asking dumb questions like "How could you forget this was in here?" he said, "No sweat, Kid.  This won't take long to clean up."  Then he cleaned it up.  The plastic lid had melted all over the bowl and there was red plastic melted all over the bottom of the oven.  He didn't complain.  He did laugh.  And as he cleaned he told me how amazing I am for doing all that I do and for being a good wife and mom.  Really.  Best guy ever.  And he had the oven cleaned in time to cook the crust.  Because he is awesome like that.

6:30 p.m. Put food in the oven.  Success.  No big deal.

7:00 p.m. Wonder why the food is taking so long to cook.

7:01 p.m. Notice the over is set to 200.  I turn the oven up.  Annoying, but no big deal.

7:15 p.m. Food is done.  Chris finishes his food just in time to go to work.  No big deal.  At least he actually got food tonight.  Poor guy.

8:00 p.m. Girls will not go to bed.  Probably because they are so amped up from eating a late dinner.  No big deal.

9:30 p.m. Put girls to bed.

9:35 p.m. Peyton finds me to tell me that she changed Loralie, but "it is under control because it is just pee." I walk Peyton back to her room and Loralie is naked.  Peyton hits herself in the forehead and says, "Crap!  I forgot a new diaper!"  Then she covered her mouth and said, "We don't say 'crap!'  It's a bad word!"  I put a diaper on Loralie, but not before she managed to pee on the floor.

9:40 p.m. Clean up pee.  Wonder how Loralie got out of her crib.  Thank Peyton from her help but explain to her that the next time she wants to change Loralie, she should get me first.

9:50 p.m. Shower.

10:00 p.m. Do homework

11:00 p.m. Collapse in my bed.

What Peyton Learns at Preschool

Peyton has been in preschool this semester and she LOVES it.  It has been really good for her and I've seen her grow up and change so much.  Her tantrums are fewer and she actually shares now.  She also randomly started using full sentences.  With big words.  Friday will be her last day of preschool.  As it comes to an end I have been looking over everything that she has learned this year. When she gets home from school I always ask her what she learned.  Occasionally I write down her responses.  Here are a few of her responses when asked, "What did you learn today, Peyton?"

"Umm...we not eat grass!  It's bad!"

"We learned buttons!"

"Don't pick your nose!"

Shrug.  "Three little pigs."

"Did you know there's cooties?"

"If you share, you have so many friends!  If you not share, you're Tabitha."

"Hot chocolate!"

"If you touch a booger, wash your hands!"

"I ate a pumpkin."

"I learned stickers and rocks!"

"Wear panties every day and don't take them off and don't poop in them!  No pee, either!"

"Ummm....I think I learned painting.  I think."

Sigh "Mom, I'm sleepy exhausted.  I can talk after my nap."

What?

I'm sad that it is over but I'm so glad that she was able to participate and grow so much!  I'm also glad that they taught her all of the important things. It makes my job so much easier ;)

Peyton Story Palooza

Peyton was holding something and wanted to put it in her pocket...except she didn't have a pocket.

Peyton: I not have a pocket.  I put it down my pants, okay?

Seriously.  She thinks that putting things down her pants is acceptable and she does it all the time.  Ha.  Reminds me of when she was about 18 months old.  We had dinner at 5:00ish and when I went to change her around 8ish and put her to bed I found out that she was hiding half of her grilled cheese sandwich in her onesie.

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Loralie hit Peyton.  Peyton was very mature about it.  "Juj, we don't hit kids.  Can you tell me you're sorry?"

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Chris: Peyton, you may not play with your friends until you eat all of your dinner.

Peyton: (Innocently, with puppy dog eyes) But Dad, you got to be keeding me.

~~~~

Peyton sat straight up with big eyes and announced, "I have to pee!!!"  As she sprinted down the hallway, Loralie stood and pointed to the bathroom shouting, "Go!  Go!  Go!  Go!" I predict Loralie will make a great coach someday.  

~~~~

Lately whenever Peyton goes to the bathroom, she sprints and as soon as she sits down to pee she says, "Whew!  That was a close one!"  Then Loralie claps for her.

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Loralie dumped a box of crayons all over the floor.  As Peyton picked them up she shouted, "Do you see this, Santa!?  Are you watching me choose the right!?"  About a minute later Loralie tried to dump the crayons out again and Peyton hit her.  Then, Peyton looked at me with big, panicked eyes and said, "Umm...Santa not see that.  Okay?"

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Peyton: Juj, you ripped this.  I'm never going to be so happy again...

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On Thanksgiving Peyton asked, "Mom, is today happy birthday or happy Thanksgiving?  I am not remembering..."

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Be nice when your friends tell you what they are naming their babies.

I currently have several pregnant friends.  Bringing life into the world is exciting.  People should be excited for them.  Are people always excited for them?  No.

Sometimes they are downright rude.  Especially when it comes to baby names.

I had a friend who did not tell people what she was naming her baby until after her baby was born.  Why?  Because she new that people were going to go out of their way to make her feel crappy about it.  I didn't really understand why she felt the need to keep it to herself.  I do now.  I got grief when I told people that my daughter's name would be Peyton.  Don't even get me started on choosing to name our second baby Loralie.  Do rude comments make me like the name I've picked any less?  No.  They do make me like the rude person less, though.

Right now I want to just take a minute to talk about baby name etiquette.  Here are a few rules that shouldn't need to be explained but....

1.) If you ask somebody what they are going to name their baby and they tell you the name they have selected, it is not polite to suggest better baby names or make weird faces or to say rude things*.

2.) Only give name suggestions if you are asked for name suggestions.

3.) After being told the baby's name it is rude to tell the expectant parents that you had a pet with that name.

4.) Rudest comment I have ever heard: "I went to school with a kid named (insert name).  They are in jail now.  I guess (insert name) was this huge pedophile and got arrested for molesting kids."  Yeah.  Don't say that.

5.) When somebody tells you that they are naming their baby a name that you hate, appropriate responses are "I love that!"  "How original!"  Or nothing.  That's right.  Don't make a comment.  BUT this is not permission to silently roll your eyes.

6.) If the expectant parents are set on a name, do not proceed to tell them all of the ways that mean kids will make fun of them for it.

7.)  The only person who should complain about a child's name is the child.  When they are old enough...after they do an assignment in school and discover their name means "short-nosed man."  Thanks, Mom ;)


That is all I can think of.  Can you think of anymore?

And to all of my pregnant friends enduring grief over what they are naming their baby, hang in there!  For the record, I think it is a great name!

* Rude comments include any variation of "ew " and "well, if you want to ruin your kid's life..." 

Not-Quite-Successful Family Home Evening

On Sunday nights we have Family Home Evening.  It is the only night of the week where we are all together and awake.  During this time, we sing songs, learn a spiritual lesson, do an activity, and eat unhealthy treats.  It is basically awesome.

Tonight, FHE was held half an hour after a fairly disastrous dinner.  Peyton cried at the table then screamed, then ran away and hid in the bathroom because she could not bring herself to even try the scalloped potatoes.  She wanted cereal and ice cream, NOT potatoes.  I will save you from all of the details, just know that things did not end well.

We waited to start FHE until things were much more calm. Chris began the lesson.  The topic:  Choosing the Right.   Here are some excerpts:

Chris: Peyton, what does it mean to choose the right?

Peyton: Always eat your potatoes and not cry!  And your rolls!  Eat potatoes and rolls!

****

Chris: Why do we choose the right?

Peyton: To get ice cream!

Chris:  Well....sort of.  When you choose the right at dinner time you sometimes get ice cream.  Is that the only reason we choose the right, though?

Peyton: YES!  Ice cream makes me happy.

****

Chris: Peyton, can you think of a time when you chose the right?

Peyton: Yes.  On my birthday.  When I was 16.

****

Chris: Peyton, do you know how we can choose the right?

Peyton: Yes.

Chris: .............By listening to the Holy Ghost, right?

Peyton: Yes.  

Chris: So how can we choose the right?

Peyton: .....

Chris: By listening....to.....

Peyton: By listening to church!

Chris:  Close.  By listening to the Holy Ghost.  So how can we choose the right?

Peyton:  .....

Chris: By listening....

Peyton: By listening to church!

Chris: (Sigh) Yes.  Good job.

****

As you can tell, the lesson went  very well.  After our lesson was the activity, which was basically writing letters to Santa. Peyton's requests: For Santa to sit by her at church and tell us that she is good, sixteen dollars for her bank, and a big letter "T."   ...Yeah.

In closing, you might also be interested in knowing that Loralie is currently throwing a fit and Peyton is singing, "You better watch out!  You better not cry!  Santa will see and you get no toys if you not choose the right!"  Clearly she took it upon herself to change the lyrics.

Here's to hoping FHE turns out a little better next week.

A few things that make me the luckiest mom ever

I want to set the record straight.  My children are a delight.  Really.  I love them and I want lots more.

I sometimes worry that because of posts like this and this some people are under the mistaken impression that my children are heathens (mostly Peyton).  Because I don't want you to have the wrong idea, here are a few things that my girlies do that make them incredible.

At least once a day, Peyton brings me a blanket and asks if we can snuggle.  Every day.  I drop everything I am doing and sit on the couch with her, Loralie, and our blanket and we watch cartoons.  When I need to get up and fix a meal or get ready for work or clean something that can no longer be put off, Peyton thanks me for snuggling and asks me if I need help.

Peyton and Loralie are the most forgiving kids ever. If we experience a misunderstanding that is totally my fault, they are so quick to get over it and give me a hug.  Example: Last night I put the girls to bed and Peyton got up about a thousand times.  The last time she got up I completely went off on her.  I am very embarrassed to say that I raised my voice and stomped toward her. (Bad parenting.  I know, okay?  I really don't act like that usually which is why I think she reacted this way.)  Her lip started to quiver and before exploding into tender sobs she held up a cup and explained that she was trying to get a drink for Loralie because she was really thirsty.  Broke my heart.  I knelt down and hugged my baby that was crying because I was a jerk when she was just trying to help.  I apologized and she pat me on the back and said through tears, "It's okay. I always love you.  We have to be best friends, okay? I just help you."  We got Loralie her water and as I tucked Peyton back into  bed she told me that I was the best mom.  I know.  I was so undeserving and it is like she didn't even notice.

I rarely feel unappreciated because Peyton and Loralie follow me around and express joy and excitement at every unremarkable thing I do.  Peyton will say, "Wow, Mom!  Nice sweeping!" and Loralie will followup by smiling and clapping her hands. And when I peel potatoes Loralie bounces up and down smiling and Peyton tells me, "Whoa! You are so fast!"

When Loralie thinks somebody is sad she pats them on the head, rubs their cheek with her sticky hand and gives them 50 kisses. Melts my heart every time.

Peyton regularly tells me that I am beautiful like a princess.  She really believes it, too.  Even when I am in my pajamas and haven't done my hair.

Loralie and Peyton are so compassionate.  At the grocery store we passed a mother who had a crying toddler in her cart.  Loralie leaned over to try to pat him and Peyton said, "It's okay, boy.  Can I hug you?"  Thinking that his mother was the cause of his crying, Peyton kindly said to her, "He is so sad.  Choose the right, okay?"  We left the store twenty minutes later at the same time as this mother and child and Peyton exclaimed, "He is so happy now!" Loralie clapped and bounced up and down.  I love how they genuinely care about everybody.

Honestly, I could write all day about every perfect thing that my girls do, but it wouldn't even begin to scratch the surface of their wonderfulness.  You will just have to believe me when I tell you that they are the bomb-diggity.

Peyton Picture

I love the surprises that I get from Peyton during or immediately following nap time.

A few days ago she woke up and came into the office/junk room while I was doing homework.  She said, "Look, Mom" in a sleepy voice.  I turned around and saw this...

Basically, she is the coolest, best dressed kid that ever lived.

Please ignore the old baby stuff randomly falling out of boxes.  I told you.  Our office doubles as a place to hide random things that we no longer use but I can't handle parting with.  To be fair, Chris cleans it twice a week.  The girls just love pulling their old stuff out of boxes as I attempt to do homework.

Peyton Questions

Peyton is a very curious girl.  Here are a few of the questions she had for me today...

Why do some bugs die in the window and some bugs die on my shoe?

Why do I have to wear pants every day?

Is it okay if I drink my bath if I only do it a really, really little?

Can Grandpa Peaches get my binks from Santa?

How do you say “uno, dos, tres” in Spanish?

Those were her exact words.

I really want to take a shower.

I have been looking forward to nap time today since the second the girls woke up this morning.  I usually don't do that, but I really wanted to take a shower.

Last night I cleaned my house.  Well, my kitchen and bedroom. It took me hours.  I mopped my kitchen floor 3 times.  I organized my shelves, shined my sink, did laundry, put mountains of clothes away, dusted, put away everything that seems to pile up on our dresser and night stands.... I did a lot.  At 11:00 p.m. my house looked so good.  And I was sooooo tired.  You know how you usually feel dirty after cleaning and feel like you need a shower (is it just me)? Well, I wanted to shower last night.  I meant to.  I sat down for a second to talk to Chris because he had just gotten home.  That is the last thing I remember.  I totally fell asleep.  I woke up very aware that I still needed a shower.

Then the girls woke up.

I could have put a movie in for them a showered quickly, but that is too dangerous.  I mean, I just cleaned my house.  Nobody has been able to see it yet (seriously, come look at what I did).  I didn't want it to look messy before I had the chance to prove to somebody that I actually know how to clean our apartment.

So anyway, Loralie was getting tired.  I had just been able to bribe Peyton to take a nap by offering her some pre-nap cereal.  This was the moment I had been waiting for.  I put Loralie in her crib sent her to her room.  Then I quickly grabbed my towels.  The anticipation of being as clean as my kitchen was almost overwhelming.  I grabbed my soaps and shampoos (I have to hide them from the kids) and turned on the water.  Then I heard Juju making angry grunting sounds.  I peeked in their room and Peyton was laying down in Loralie's crib.  Loralie was trying to push her out of the crib (like that could ever happen).  Peyton was resting calmly and said very nonchalantly, "Juj, Mom says that sisters share.  You have to let me stay."

I laughed and ignored the girls squabbling and hopped in the shower.  After a blissful minute into my shower there was an absence of noise.  I thought, "Hmm...they are actually going to nap.  Awesome!"

Then I heard Peyton's feet pitter patter down the hall and into the bathroom.
Peyton: Mom?
Me:  MmmHmm?
Peyton: I can't take a nap.
Me: Why not?
Peyton: It's not dark outside.
Me: Try your hardest.
Peyton: (sigh) Okay.

More pitter pattering.

Ahh...alone.  Showering.

More pitter pattering.

Peyton: Mom?
Me: (Impatiently) Yes?
Peyton: Whatcha doing?
Me: Washing my body.
Peyton: Oh.

More pitter pattering.

Warm water does more than clean the body.  I am convinced long, warm showers cleanse the soul.  I began to ponder something calming and important as I relaxed, basking in the gloriousness of my shower.

Then I was interrupted.  By more freaking pitter pattering.

Peyton: Mom?
Me: What, Peyton?
Peyton: You still washing your body?
Me: Yes.
Peyton: You wash this, too. (Not in a vindictive way, but in a voice that suggested she wanted to be helpful)

Then I saw her little hand reach behind the shower curtain and deposit the the girls' dishes, one by one, into my shower.

Streams of milky Cheerios began to race toward the drain.  Sigh.  I had just washed my feet.  They felt clean.

Not anymore.

I just wanted an uninterrupted shower.

I'm running out of titles for Peytonisms

Peyton: Mom, why does JujuBee have so many clothes and Peyton have no clothes?

***************

Peyton: I can't cut myself!  I'll be so sad!

Chris: That's right.  Do we play with knives, Peyton?

Peyton: No!

Chris: Good job!  That's absolutely ri-

Peyton: (Interrupting) We play with forks!

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Peyton was talking to her Meemaw on the phone.  She hung up, then quickly remembered she forgot to say something.  Peyton screams into the phone, "Gramma!  I want to watch a movie!  Tell my mom I said it's okay!"

************

Peyton drew several circle-ish shapes on our refrigerator with a dry erase marker.  They all looked more or less the same to me.  She was really excited to show me her artwork, which she had spent about 30 minutes on.

Peyton: MOM!  Come see what I did!  Mom!  Mom!  See what I did!

Me: (Scanning the refrigerator) Very nice Peyton!  Did you make circles?

Peyton: (Apalled) No!  

Me: Oh.  (Point to circle) What is that?

Peyton: It's a botato!

Me: A potato!  You're right!  Nice potato!

Peyton: (Points to different circle) See that?  What is it?

Me: A potato!?

Peyton: (Insulted/frustrated) NO!

Me: Oh....I'm sorry.  Will you tell me what it is?

Peyton: A nose!

Me: Oh!

Peyton: (Points to a circle inside of another circle)  What is that?

Me: ....You tell me!

Peyton:  A botato inside a botato.  It's fancy.

Me: I can tell.  Great job!

Peyton: (Points to several circles inside several circles) See this?  What is it?

Me: A lot of potatoes inside of potatoes?

Peyton: (Big sigh.  Irritated to the point that you could tell she just gave up) No, Mom.  They are circles.

Christmas Wish List

Peyton will be my guest blogger today.  Yes it is October and yes I am posting Peyton's Christmas wish list.  Deal with it.

Dearest Santa....and Grandparents,

First, I want to tell you how much I love you.  A lot.

Secondly, I think you should know that I have been impeccably well-behaved this year.  Really.  I mean, sure, there was the time I locked Loralie outside.  And you may have heard exaggerated tales about how I colored on mom's night stand with permanent marker. (Does nobody recognize art anymore?)   And, if you want to be picky, then yes, there was the time that I jumped on my bookshelf and caused it to collapse.

Other than those few instances (and the time I put a hole in my bedroom door-by total accident), I have been really, really good.

Because I am so good and thoughtful of others, I have compiled a list for you of gifts that I would be honored to receive.  The following gifts would not only be treasured by me, but by Juju and Mom, also!

Item #1

                               

My mom reads Where the Wild Things Are to Juju and me and it is one of our favorite  books.  Wouldn't it be nice for us to have shirts that illustrated, not only our love for each other, but also our love of literature?

Item #2

I really like these matching friendship bracelet shirts.  Juju would like them, too.  I sometimes feel like Juju might not understand how much I love her (for the last time, locking her outside was just a joke.  Some people cannot let things go).  Honestly, though.  She is my very best friend and I want everybody to know.  Plus, don't you think this would make for cute pictures, Grandma?  I would absolutely love to send you a picture of us wearing these shirts.

That concludes my list.  I know.  Just two things.  Thank you for reading and I wish you pleasant experiences as you begin your holiday shopping.

Love,

Princess Popeye

More things that I wish I said less.....

Before I had kids, I had hoped that I would be the type of parent who imparted Solomon-like wisdom to my children.  I laugh when I think of how far I am from that ideal.  Here are the nuggets of wisdom I shared with my children today...

"You need to wear pants."

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"Don't shut your sister in a cupboard."

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"Just because your dad isn't here does not mean that you are allowed to lick his things."

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"Peyton, seriously!  You need to wear pants!"

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"Shoes are not for eating."

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"You shouldn't rub your lunch on your bum."

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"Empty shampoo bottles are not cups.  Do not drink out of them."

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"Dang it, Peyton!  You need to wear pants!"

*************

"Your sister is your friend.  You shouldn't lock her in a room."

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"Peyton, that is not nice to say.  Your sister is not 'the Kraken.'"

************

"PEYTON!  Pants are important!  Put your pants on.  NOW!

Porn and Motherhood

Lately my Facebook news feed has been inundated with talk of 50 Shades of Grey (I have a super power that allows me to completely ignore any of the political/election posts that may be flooding your screens.  What can I say?  God has given me a gift).

I am sure that you have all read/heard opinions about this particular piece of literature so I will try not to get into that so much.  What I do want to discuss is the disturbing trend that seems to go hand in hand with talk of this book; the phrase "mommy porn."

The term has bothered me for quite a while.  Does it seem oxymoronic to anyone else?

A mother is somebody who sacrifices.  She uplifts those around her.  She beautifies her home.  She gives up hours of sleep to care for sick children.  She gives of her time to help her children with homework.  She gives  her lap to her children to fall asleep on.  She gives the last bite of her favorite candy bar to her child who is looking at her with longing, hopeful eyes (that's the hardest).  She gives of herself all day.  A mother is a giver.

Pornography is the exact opposite.  It gives nothing.  Really, it takes an awful lot.  It takes time away from our family.  It takes our love for our spouse.  It takes away the purity with which we should see others.  It takes away our focus on important matters worthy of our pursuit.

As I type this I realize that maybe I am wrong.  Pornography does give something.  It can give you an addiction.  It can give you unrealistic expectations of your spouse.  It can give you people outside of your marriage to lust after.  It can replace your love of others with the ability to simply view them as objects.  It takes away a desire to do for others and replaces it with more selfish desires.  It takes your joy and exchanges it for fleeting moments of satisfaction.  Pornography, visual or written, takes things from you, important things, and offers nothing of value.

When I see people flippantly use the term "mommy porn," my heart breaks.  I sincerely believe that  motherhood is a sacred calling.  "Mommy" is something that my tenderhearted children call me.  I hate seeing it coupled with something that I have personally seen destroy families.

Mothers, God blessed you with children.  He entrusted you with his own children and gave you the necessary tools to raise them to be the valiant souls that He needs.  Take this seriously.  It's hard.  Nobody is perfect.  I certainly make dozens of mistakes a day.  Motherhood is hard enough without pouring time and energy into unworthy and draining pursuits like pornography.  If you still  have a burning desire to read your erotic novels, please at least don't degrade the sacred name of motherhood on my Facebook news feed by proclaiming your love of "mommy porn."

Peyton wants a sister. It's not happening.

I am afraid of having spoiled, entitled kids.  For this reason, we make Peyton earn a lot of privileges.  This morning she shared with Loralie and read her a book to earn a snack.  Currently, she is picking up a mess to earn television time.  I am only telling you this you that you can better understand the conversation I am about to share with you.

 Peyton: I want a sister.
Me: What!?  No!
Peyton: (Realizing she forgot her manners) May I please have a new sister?

Me: No.

Peyton: I earn a sister?

Me: No!

Peyton: But I be so good and earn one!

Me: No.  You already have a little sister!

Peyton: No, I want a nice one.

Me: Peyton, no.  I am sorry.  You cannot have a new sister right now.

Peyton:....okay.  I ask my dad.

The Great Tower of Popeye

Today Peyton became irritated with Chris and she ran to her room.  Before slamming the door she screamed, "I NEVER come out AGAIN!"

Shortly after making that declaration she started throwing things at her door.  I knocked on her door and reminded her that that was unacceptable behavior (or maybe I just told her to knock it off....) and she immediately stopped.  I thought, "Heh, maybe I don't need that parenting class."

Chris and I could hear something going on in Peyton's room.  We were not too worried because it wasn't eerily quiet or destructively loud.  After a few minutes, she emerged from her room.  "Mom!  Come see!  Mom!  Look what I bee-yilt!"

I walked down the hallway.  Peyton's door was opened just wide enough for her to squeeze through.  There was no way I would fit.  I tried to push the door open but it was clear that something was blocking it.  I pushed hard and wedged it open enough for me to enter.

Peyton was standing there proudly, gazing upon what she had built.  I was bewildered and impressed.  She had stacked things against the door very neatly.  The tower was impressively well constructed.

Me: Peyton....it's a baricade.  Wow....you must have worked very hard on this.

Peyton: (Beaming, but not in a rat fink way) Mmmhmm!  To keep you out!

Me: You built this to keep me out of your room?

Peyton: (Proud and ecstatic beyond containment)  YES!  Now you can't come in!

Chris heard the exchange from the office.  He started laughing.  Of course Peyton would invite me in her room to show me the tower she had built to keep me out.  I don't blame her.  Like I said, it was impressive.

Tomorrow I will post a picture of the fruits of her labor.

Peyton Post #12387

Peyton.  Loves.  Honey Nut Cheerios.  You know how a box of Honey Nut Cheerios has a picture of a bumble bee on it?  Well, when Peyton wants the cereal she says, "Mom, I want bee cereal, please."

Recently, as Peyton was eating her cereal (which she insisted on eating beside our open door) a fly flew right by her.  She was horrified and said, "Oh no!  Mom!  The bee is supposed to be in my cereal!  Not in my house!"

************

Peyton and Juju were in the tub and Peyton was washing Juju's hair.  It was adorable and she was doing such a great job!  I asked, "Peyton, who said you could get so big?"

Peyton replied, "I not want to be three but you always make me be three!"

**************

Loralie was in her room crying.  Upon entering their room, Peyton said, "Her again? Ugh.  She's always in my house!"

Just Go Around.

After we got home from church last Sunday

Me: Peyton, what did you learn about today?
Peyton: (shrugs and speaks nonchalantly) Eh, just the Holy Ghost.
Me: Oh?  What does the Holy Ghost do?
Peyton: (Matter-of-factly) He makes me be really reverent.
Me: Really?
Peyton:  Yes!  He's not scary, though!

If you knew how concerned Peyton has been about ghosts lately, you'd know that this is a big deal.

**********

Loralie was sleeping in her room and Peyton was on the couch doing her own thing.  I decided to run downstairs really quickly to tell Emily something.  As soon as I got to Emily's I could hear Peyton coming down the steps.  A few seconds later she was screaming, "Mom!  Mommm!  MOMMMMMMMMY!" 

I looked outside and saw Peyton....holding a 5 ft long tree branch.  She looked startled to see me.  I looked at her in confusion.  Searching for a way to explain, she paused then said, "I  be worried so I got a big stick!"

**********

The girls and I went on a walk the other day.  I put Juju in the stroller and Peyton walked beside me.  About two minutes into our walk, we came to a truck that was parked in a driveway, but covering the sidewalk.  Peyton gasped and with wide eyes said, "Oh no!"  I feigned outrage and replied, "Oh no!  What are we going to do!?"

Peyton looked at me like I was nuts and calmly said, "Not shreak out.  Just go around."

During our walk, we happened upon several other vehicles parked over the sidewalk.  Each time, before I could even say anything, Peyton would utter the reassuring words, "Not shreak out, Mom.  It be ooooooooookay.  Just go around."

Shinger Tacos and Shorks

So, I'm sure that most of you know that Peyton recently got stitches.  Again.  Second time in 3 months.  Here is how it happened...

Peyton had spent most of the morning "making pizza" out of her Play-doh.  She wanted to cut it but I sort of blew her off and told her that I needed to change Juju.  As I was putting Juju's pants back on, I heard a scream, followed by a crash, followed by panicked crying.  I rushed to the kitchen and found Peyton gripping her hand.  I asked what happened and she uncovered her hand.  Blood started gushing.  It was like a bloody finger version of Old Faithful.  When she saw the blood, she freaked out.  She started screaming, "I need a bandaid!"  I tried to apply pressure to it but she just kept flinging her hand around, getting blood everywhere.  It was on my kitchen floor, the refrigerator, my cabinets and counters, and on my bathroom floor and a little in the hallway.  Even now I keep finding tiny random blood speckles in weird places, like under the trash bin and on a box of cereal.

I pounded on Emily's door and she was kind enough to watch Juju so that I could take P to get stitches.  She even cleaned up nearly all of the blood.

The last time Peyton got stitches, she kept picking at them, which made the removal process nightmarish.  This time, we kept her finger wrapped.  She loved the bandage.  She called it her "finger taco."  She showed it to everybody and they always would ask, "How did that happen?"

Here's how.  She cut herself with a long, pronged knife, which she got out of the dishwasher because she wanted to cut her "pizza."  It has the two prongs on the end, and in Peyton's mind it must look sort of like a fork.  Peyton can't make an "f" sound.  It always comes out as a "sh" sound.  She has had the same conversation with dozens of people for over a week.  It goes like this:

Peyton: See my shinger taco?

Random Person: What happened?

Peyton: I cut myself.

Random Person:  How?

Peyton: On a shork!

Random Person: A shark!?

Peyton: (Slightly annoyed) A shork.  You know, like a dinglehopper.

Random Person: (Nodding like they understand, just so they can make the conversation stop)

The first time I heard her have this conversation, I laughed and laughed and laughed.  She got her stitches removed this weekend, but even as I type this, I am laughing.  I am laughing because my kid calls knives "forks."  And she calls forks "shorks."  And she calls shorks "dinglehoppers."  Kids don't come any cooler.  They probably do come with less scars, though.

Random Acts of Kindness

I am so sorry it has taken me so long to report back to you all on this.  I still do not have all the data, as reports of RAKs still trickle in, little by little.

First of all, you guys are amazing.  How can I ever thank you all for keeping my family in your thoughts and taking the time out of your day to do and share your RAK with me?  I never expected such a huge response and my heart is overflowing with love and gratitude for each of you.

I am not very good at blogging.  I was trying to figure it out and came across a statistics button.  I clicked it and discovered that my average post gets anywhere from 3-128 views (almost always closer to 3 than 128).   My blog about Kristi's birthday received over 1,000 hits in just 24 hours.  Thanks to you all for sharing the word.  My goal was to get your help to do 23 Random Acts of Kindness.  You exceeded my goal.   Forty-one RAKs were reported to me, with an additional 84 people pledging to do an RAK.  I also suspect that more people did them without telling me, which is perfectly fine:)

Your support in exceeding my goal made September 12th a wonderful day of celebration for me.  Every time I received a message or text or e-mail, I cried.  Seriously.  I am so overwhelmed by the generosity of each one of you.  I got messages from friends, family, Kristi's former classmates, people I haven't spoken to in years, and even total strangers.  I pray that each of your lives may be touched by Random Acts of Kindness and that you are able to feel the joy and love I feel when I think about this.

I am compiling all of your responses into a book that I hope to add to in the coming years.  It will be a source of joy, hope, and inspiration to my family.

I would like to tell you a little about one of my experiences doing Random Acts of Kindness.  I gave myself a budget of $23 (because it seemed appropriate) and did a total of 106 RAKs.  My favorite experience involved Popeye and Juj.

Peyton and I went to the store (with coupons in hand.  Autumn, I can't thank you enough for introducing me to couponing.) and Peyton picked out her favorite snacks.  Once we had exactly 100 snacks (mostly fruit snacks, we are talking about Peyton, after all.) we loaded the goodies (and Juju) into a wagon and headed for campus.  I thought, "Hmm...who could use an act of kindness today?"  I instantly thought of the poor souls who had to endure the nightmare that is the BYU-I financial aid office.  It was the first week of school and people were scrambling trying to get their loans and finances in order.  Anyway, that morning Peyton made two signs encouraging people to "Please Accept a Random Act of Kindness."  We tied them together with pink, polka dotted ribbon so that she could hang them over her shoulders and she wore the signs as she handed treats out to very happy recipients.  The first 10(ish) times that she handed treats to people, she ran back to me with a huge smile on her face and said, with her hand over her heart, "Mom, that makes me feel so good!"  I had told her earlier that we were doing it to make people happy.  She was pretty tired toward the end, and each time she handed a snack out she would say, "Not be sad, okay?"  She said it very quietly, almost mumbling, and people couldn't always understand.  They would ask, "What?"  Peyton would scowl at them and scream, "I SAID NOT BE SAD!"  Haha.  It was so funny.  I think she may have missed the point, but a girl can only hand out so many of her favorite snacks before it starts affecting her :)  As for Juju, she also did her part.  She waved to people and said, "Hiiiiiiii," while throwing treats out of the wagon at anyone who waved back.

We are really looking forward to next year.  Thanks, guys.

I'm sorry if  this post sounds like just a bunch of unorganized, incoherent rambling.  I'll do better next time.

Kristi's Birthday Gift

I have a sister who died several years ago. Her name was Kristi and she was amazing. Full of attitude. Full of passion (some would argue a little too much passion). Full of this amazing ability to befriend new people and to help those around her. Tomorrow would be her 23rd birthday. Usually I find myself getting really sad around Sept 12th. I think of all that she could have accomplished, all the good she would have done, all of the things that we have missed out on doing together. This year, instead of being sad I have been inspired!

I read an amazing blog that was written by somebody I know. You should go to http://adventuresofscottandcarrie.blogspot.com/2012/09/a-birthday-of-kindness.html#comment-form really quickly and read it.

No, really. Go there and read it. Then come back here.

Did you do it?

Okay. Isn't that great!?

Tomorrow, instead of being sad on Kristi's birthday, I am going to honor her by doing random acts of kindness! I am asking each of you to please do the same. Please find a moment in your day to do a random act of kindness in honor of Kristi's birthday. Then, e-mail me, or comment on this blog or on Facebook and tell me what you did.

I want to make this a yearly tradition. I like the idea that, even though she isn't here, the world is continuing to be a little bit brighter because of her.

So, let's go, everybody! Do your RAK and share it with me!

Peyton Tidbits

I know that I may have already shared some of these on Facebook but I want to be able to remember them forever (or at least look back at them when I forget) so I am putting them in my blog.

Peyton's prayer tonight:

"Heavenly Father, thankful for this day and blessings. Thankful for Jacob and Randall and 'At Last I See the Light.' Make my dad be good at work. Name of Jesus Christ. Amen." Upon concluding her prayer, Peyton looked at me and said, "That was a really good prayer, Mom." (For those of you who may not know, Jacob and Randall are her friends and "At Last I See the Light" is what she calls Tangled, her favorite movie, lately.

*****

Everybody here has had allergies or colds or something. Feeling icky has made Juj a very grumpy girl. Yesterday, Juj would not. Stop. Whining. Peyton was at the table eating. I was at the sink putting dishes away. Juju was crying for the 50th time that hour and hitting the door trying to get out. Here is what happened:

Me: I'm sorry, Juj. You need to stay inside now. Let me put these away and then I will play with you.

Juju: (Cries more loudly than before.)

Peyton: Stop crying, Juj! I'm eating! You keep crying, crying, crying!

Juju: (Crying. Still.)

Me: One more second, Sweetheart!

Peyton: (Marches straight to the door and opens it, setting Juju free)

Juju: (Ceases crying)

Me: Peyton! She can't be out there right now!

Peyton: (In a frustrated/relieved tone) Mom, Juj goes outside and I say, "Hooray!"

Couldn't even be mad. The crying was driving me crazy, too.

*****

Peyton: (In a very secretive voice) Mom......do princesses go poop?

*****

A few nights ago we were saying bedtime prayers. Actually, I was saying the prayer. When I was finished, Peyton insisted that we pray again because I didn't say a good enough prayer for her Winnie Pie (baby cousin). Peyton offered another prayer for Winnie. After she ended she said, "See, Mom? Like that!"

*****

Peyton keeps following me around with a quart of whole milk exclaiming, "Now that is tasty!" She hasn't even had any. I think she is expecting it to taste sweet because of the red lid?

*****

A week or so ago, Peyton woke up from her nap bawling. When she went to bed, her friend's backpack was next to her bed. While she was sleeping, her friend took it home. Upon seeing that it had disappeared she searched everywhere.

Peyton: (Through choking and sobs) But...(sniff) I...need...a...book....bag.

I hugged Peyton and gave her lots of kisses and after 10 minutes or so, she was calm enough to talk to.

Me: Peyton, if you are very good, I will let you earn your very own backpack and we will go pick it out together.

Peyton: (Starts bawling hysterically. Again.) I'M SO HAPPY! WAAAAAAAA!

*****

Peyton keeps trying to take my temperature. She stuck the digital thermometer under my armpit several times. When it beeped she took it out at looked at it. Her eyes got really big and she said, quite stunned, "Mom! You weigh a thousand pounds!"

*****

Peyton wanted a cookie. I told her that she could have one after she picked up all of her toys. She spents about 2 minutes picking them up and then came to me and said, "It's all clean!" I said, "Okay. Let me inspect!" I found a few things and instructed her that they still needed picked up. This repeated about three times. By the last time, Peyton came to me and said, "It's all clean but don't inspect, okay?"

*****

Peyton was pretty excited to dress herself last week, probably because Grandpa Peaches just got her a bunch of new clothes. I could hear her struggling in her room and I called in and asked if she needed help. She assured me that she did not. A few minutes later I saw her coming down the hallway. Just before she reached the living room she stopped, hit her forehead with her hand and said to no one in particular, "Oh man! I forgot to take my other clothes off!" I looked closely and sure enough, I could see her pajamas poking out of her new outfit. She turned around, clearly flustered, and went back to her room to change.

*****

Peyton: (Does something incredible)

Me: Wow! Peyton, who said you could get so big?

Peyton: (Shrugs) I do what I want.

*****

Me: Peyton, thanks for your help! You're the best!

Peyton: Umm. Yes.

Me: When somebody says that, you should say, "thank you."

Peyton: You're welcome

*****

Loralie tripped and fell and started to fuss. Peyton saved the day by attempting CPR. Yep! Chest compressions! I was impressed by how well she could do them. Fortunately, Juju did not need the intervention so I had to cut it short. Peyton left a little discouraged, but hopeful that another opportunity to practice her skills would arise.

*****

Kids: (Terrorizing the house while I'm trying to order books for my class)

Me: AHHHH!!! You guys are driving me crazy!

Peyton: (Shrugs. Leaves room. Pops her head back into the room) Mom, are you crazy at Peyton or at Juj?

Post Ohio

This is just a quick thing I wanted to post before I forget it. I'll post a more complete update when I feel like it :)

WORDS/PHRASES PEYTON HAS USED SINCE SPENDING TIME IN OHIO

"Oh my stars!" I'm sure she got this from Grandma.

"Juju has crap in her diaper." Uncle Adam?

"WE DON'T SAY 'CRAP!'" Yes, I definitely hammered this into her head and she keeps reminding me.

"It smells like cacahuete in here!" Papi, without a doubt.

"Watch it, guys!" Uncle Moose? Probably me, too.

"I love you just enough." Aunt Mine or Sue?

"Guys, clean this mess up!" Aunt Mine, Grandma, or me.

"I need to go potty in the potty!" ???

"Daddy, I want a kitty cat, pree please." WHAT!? How dare you suggest that I would teach Peyton that just because I want one!

Airport Adventures

I am going to Ohio 1 week from today.  I am flying there.  On a plane.

In January I took both of the babies to Ohio by myself!  It was a disaster.  Poor Peyton.  An airport must seem like the ultimate amusement park to her.  Things to climb on, lots of attractions, and a seemingly endless supply of elevators, escalators and those weird moving conveyor belt things.

Poor Loralie was grumpy because she was so hungry.  Every time I tried to nurse her, Peyton would seize the opportunity and take off.  I had one of those monkey leashes but after a while she figured out how to unsnap it.  Before she figured that out, though, she escaped and when I caught up to her she threw herself on the ground.  She screamed on the ground as I pulled her through the airport.  She made a great mop.  I got many bad looks.  What else could I have done?  My hands were full of luggage and Loralie.

At one point I was changing Loralie's very poopy diaper and Peyton took off (for the thousandth time).  I was trying to speed wipe Juju but I kept seeing Peyton get further and further.  I had to stop what I was doing and chase her down.  I was running while holding Juju away from me because she still had poop on her.  People stared.  When they saw my running, screaming toddler, they connected the dots and gave me a sympathetic nod.  I found her on the conveyor belt thing licking the glass siding as it moved her further away from me.  I ran along side it frantically saying things like, "Peyton Jane, don't lick that glass anymore.  We have to go back to our seats."  "If you don't go back to your seats, somebody might steal your fruit snacks." "Peyton, please.  Juju is going to pee on me and I am getting poop everywhere."  "Fine, Peyton!  Go ahead.  Loralie and I are going to make good decisions and sit in our seats." (For the record, Peyton was unbothered by that.)  I think I finally got her to come with, "All right.  See ya later!  I'm going to see Meemaw and Papi and Aunt Sarah without you!" Yes.  I'm aware that that might be less-than-ideal parenting.

It progressively got worse.  It got so bad that they let me board the plane 25 minutes before anybody else, including other families.  Things were much better after we boarded.  Both girls were angelic.  It helped that Peyton was strapped into her car seat. Wouldn't you know that as the other passengers began to board the plane, Peyton pooped.  It was so stinky.  The whole plane smelled like her poop.  I couldn't get off the plane and change her so I had to do it in the bathroom on the plane.  Have you ever been in one of those?  I can't begin to tell you about the acrobatics involved in changing a poopy kid in that tiny space while trying to get them not to touch anything.  All the while I could hear Loralie screaming.  I had to leave her with one of the flight attendants.  When I was finally done and able to retrieve Loralie, the flight attendant looked frazzled.  I told her that Loralie was coming into the stranger awareness phase.  The older woman nearby corrected me and informed me that Loralie was just afraid of the black flight attendant (eye roll).

All of this, in addition to my fear of flying caused me to cry in our seats while Peyton said, "Aww...Mom.  We're gonna blast off! Pat pat pat!" Kudos to those of you who get the Little Einsteins reference.

I swore that I would never do it again.

I was mostly right.

This time I am only taking Loralie.  I have to tell you, I am so heartbroken about it!  I won't get to see my Peyton Pie for 2 weeks.  I worry about her ability to handle it.  Two weeks without either parent is going to be hard, even when in the care of her very capable grandmother.  I am also a little worried about how Loralie will survive 2 weeks without her sister.  And no, my last experience is not the reason I'm leaving her in Utah with the grandparents.  It would just cost an extra 500 doll hairs for her to come.  This is an emergency trip for an emergency situation at home and there is no emergency money left for my Popeye.  I keep telling myself that we won't be poor college kids forever.

I guess I'm done now.  This post didn't really have a direction.  I started it with a purpose but I have since lost it.  Now I'm going to spoil Peyton before I leave.  With cake and cartoons and cuddling.

Stitches Follow-up

Loving Peyton is so easy.  Being her mother is hard, though.

I tried to take Peyton to get her stitches removed yesterday, but as we neared the hospital she freaked out a little.  For the rest of the day we talked about how it would be so cool to get her stitches out.  We talked about how if she got them out she could get a treat.

The treat was all the motivation she needed.  I caught her 2 times yesterday (and Aunt Emily caught her once) with tweezers (and nail clippers) trying to take her own stitches out.  When asked what she was doing she replied, "I want a treat!"

She seemed eager to go back to the hospital today to have them removed.  We all know, though, that nothing with Peyton can just be simple and routine.  Peyton picked so much at her stitches that she picked off the little strings that would have made them easy to remove.  The first nurse could not get them.  She called a second nurse to help.  Between the 2 of them they still could not remove these 2 little stitches.  A third nurse was called, all the while getting Peyton more and more upset.  They still had trouble and decided to get a doctor.  By this time they had Peyton strapped to the bed so that she couldn't move her arms or legs.  She was crying and screaming, "Save me, Mom!  Save me!  Please!  I be good!"  It broke my heart.  I was holding Juju and rubbing Peyton's forehead and Juju was screaming and crying and reaching for Peyton.  I suppose P broke Juju's heart, too, because she thought she was up for the job of saving her big sister.

The no-nonsense doctor showed up and seemed a little irritated at the nurses.  He was at the desk giving me sympathetic nods earlier.  He was able to get them out but even he had difficulty.  I didn't expect there to be that much blood from getting stitches removed.  I mean, there wasn't a ton, but I didn't expect bleeding at all.

Anyway, the nurses felt so terrible for Peyton that they sent her on her way with 5 packs of Smarties.  Peyton was happy when we got home and told me that she needed a nap.  I think I need a nap.  I would bet that those poor nurses could use a nap, too.

Sister Love and Paper Cutting

Yesterday while I was doing dishes (or dusting or some other cleaning that my house desperately needed) I heard Juju crying.  I went to the girls' room to check on things and I found Peyton on the floor with her arms and legs wrapped tightly around Juju.  Poor Juju was screaming and trying to escape with no success.  Peyton seemed not to even notice her sister's attempts to get free.  This was our conversation as Juju screamed in the background.

Me: Peyton, what are you doing!?

P: Hugging Juju.  I love her too much.

Me: She doesn't like it!  Let her go!

(Peyton pauses and reluctantly lets her sister go.  Juju crawls to me very quickly, obviously traumatized.  She stood up and walked to me with outstretched arms)

Me:  See Peyton?  When you squeeze her like that it makes her sad.

Peyton: She's sad!?  Then I give her a hug!

Hugs and crying ensued.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of Peyton's favorite things to do is to use her scissors to cut up paper into really small pieces.  Yesterday she just wanted to watch cartoons.  That conversation went like this:

P: I want TV, Mom.

Me: No, Pops.  We're not watching TV today.

P: Pree Pweeez!

Me: No.  I'm sorry.

P: (Looks down, disheartened, then suddenly looks up like she was struck by an idea) Okay!  It scissors time! 

She said is with all the authority and intensity of a Power Ranger and a goofy fist pumping motion.  She cut paper for a long time and loved it.  Not sure it was more educational than TV, but at least I didn't have to hear weird/annoying cartoon voices.

Kids and Ketamine

I have a beautiful new niece named Lynnlee.  Peyton and I went to the hospital yesterday to visit her.  While we were there Peyton got a little too excited and ran into Emily's bed frame.  She fell back and freaked out.  I ran to pick her up and I was holding her and heading for the hallway (I didn't want the crying to bother Lynnlee) and on my way out somebody pointed out the blood.  I took her to a nurse who mopped it up (for a while the blood seemed to be never ending, which is weird because this all went down pretty quickly) and wasted no time telling me I had to take her to the ER.  She escorted me and, sadly, one of the ER receptionists recognized me.  By the time the doctor made it in to see Peyton she was not bleeding anymore.  He took a quick look and confirmed she would need stitches.  Peyton said, "Sixes!?  I want sixes!  I want blue sixes and pink sixes.  I want sixes on my butt!"

The doctor also decided that he wanted to give her drugs so that she wasn't bouncing all over the place.  Since the cut was by her eye he was afraid she'd move and it'd be too risky to do it without.  He decided to give her Ketamine.  I said, "Whoa.  You want to give my baby a horse tranquilizer!?"  He insisted it wasn't a horse tranquilizer.  He was wrong.  When the nurse went to give P the shot Peyton screamed, "I be sowy!  I all bettah!  I be good!  Don't hurt Popeye!"  Broke.  My.  Heart.

I don't know if you've ever had the misfortune of seeing somebody on Ketamine, but it was absolutely horrific to see my baby like that.  She was sort of in a trance.  Her eyes were open but she couldn't move at all.  She produced a lot of spit and she started choking on it because she couldn't swallow (she couldn't really choke either, it is difficult to describe) so we had to suction it out.  They said she would come out of it in 10-30 minutes.  It took her over an hour and a half and I cried almost the entire time.  I remember taking a drug class and learning that people coming off Ketamine often scream and cry because it causes a weird type of nightmare.  I put her hand on my cheek and  starting singing her favorite songs.  As she came out of her trance-like state I could see her trying so hard to mouth the words but she still couldn't move.  The second I stopped singing, she screamed this pitiful scream because she still couldn't move much yet, not even her lips, so I would start the song all over.  After an hour and a half she was able to sit up enough so I could hold her but she still couldn't hold her head up.  Toward the end she was saying some pretty hilarious things but I couldn't even appreciate it because I was so heartbroken over the whole ordeal.

Around midnight I called Chris to come over because I was so spent.  He found somebody to chill out in our house with Juju and he came to the emergency room.  Poor Popeye peed all over her clothes and the bed.  It took the staff over half an hour to take care of it because they were so busy.  So she was this poor, stoned, naked girl in a cold room By the time we took P home she still couldn't walk by herself and when she sat up she would say, "Whoa! WhooooOOOOooa!  Whoa!"

Anyway, all that for 2 little stitches.  The Ketamine was much worse than the stitches.  She is perfectly fine now.  OH!  The hospital is footing the bill because it happened there.  Even though it wasn't their fault.  Nice, eh?

"My mom be so mad!"

This happened a few weeks ago.  I wanted to blog about it then but I felt like I couldn't accurately describe the ridiculousness of it all.  I'm going to try now, anyway.

A few times a week I have the opportunity to watch a cute baby who is about 7 months old.  Peyton and Loralie absolutely adore this baby.  Her dad drops her off around 8:45 in the morning, which is about the time the girls wake up.  He brings her whole stroller into the house (the baby's mom and I always laugh about that).  The second the baby's dad left, she became upset, so I held her.  Peyton immediately dumped out the contents of her diaper bag to see if she could find  a cool toy to make the baby happy.  Loralie proceeded to hide behind the stroller and pull all of the DVDs out of our entertainment center.  Baby still cried.  Not long after, Loralie started to cry (she loves the baby but hates when I give her attention).  I put both babies on the floor and tried to play with them.  Still screaming.  At this time Peyton gives the phone to Loralie because she knows that that is Loralie's favorite toy.  I hardly notice because I am still trying to console the other baby.  This goes on for sometime.  Much crying.

In all of this, I catch Peyton trying to hide behind the couch.  That means she's trying to poop.  I tell her in my "serious mom voice" that she needs to go sit on the potty.  She disappeared.  Yes.  I did it.  The girls are still crying.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw an image in my window.  A police car zoomed right up and two officers ran (really, they ran) to our apartment.  I'm an apartment manager and this was not the first time the police have paid a visit to one of our tenants.  I wondered who did what this time.  Then, they opened my door.  The conversation went something like this...

Police: We are responding to a 9-1-1 call.  What is the problem?
Me: (stunned) Are you sure it is from here?  We don't have a problem.
Police: The call is still in progress.
Me: (Scan room.  Peyton is gone.  So is the phone.)  I'm so sorry.  My daughter is somewhere playing with the phone.
Police:  Is it okay if we come in and check things out, anyway?
Me: Sure.

I'm going to paint a picture for those of you who may have forgotten the scene.  Two screaming babies, one is half dressed with breakfast all over her face.  My small living room has a stroller in the middle of it with the contents of a large diaper bag scattered everywhere.  Our DVD collection was pulled from shelves and was now in a spread out pile on the floor.  I was still in my pajamas.  My house still smelled like dinner from the night before because I hadn't done the dishes.  And it was a very garlic themed meal.

The officers walked around and the babies still screamed.  They checked all the rooms except mine and asked if anyone else was in the house.  I told them that my toddler was here.  I heard noise coming from my room.  I tried to open the door but Peyton had locked it.  I picked the lock in front of the officers and opened the door.  The smell of poop hit me like a punch in the face.  And it looked like my room had been ransacked.  The clothes baskets were dumped out (because Peyton likes to use the baskets as ladder-type things) and my dresser had tipped over (likely from Peyton trying to climb it).  The blankets and pillows had been thrown from my bed in a pile on the ground.  I shouted for Peyton and heard nothing.  Then I saw the blankets shift.  I lifted the blankets and found Peyton half naked talking on the phone.  The police officers asked Peyton if she had called them.  She said, "yes!"  They asked her why and do you know what she said?  Do you?

"I poop my pants my mom be SO MAD!"  Oh, I was mad, all right.

The police explained to her that 9-1-1 was only for emergencies.  I apologized profusely and sort of wanted the earth to swallow me.

Peyton emerged from the blankets in all of her stinky glory and as the police were leaving she asked if she was going to get a "big pow-pow."

Over the next week I waited for CPS to show up.  They never did.  While I'm grateful they didn't, I can't help but feel like somebody probably dropped the ball.

Roses and Thorns

Whew.  Let me tell you, I have had a tough month.  It has been stressful.  Anyway, I was thinking about everything that has me worried and it all became overwhelming.  THEN I had a bad day.  At that point, I decided to look for the blessings.  Thanks, Mom!  I am definitely trying harder to be grateful for the roses instead of dwelling on the thorns.

Thorn: My computer broke as I was charting for work.
Rose:  I was charting because I'm blessed enough to have a paying job.

Thorn: The computer botch caused me to be running late for my staff meeting.
Rose:  I had to be there.  Because I'm part of the staff.  Because I have a job.

Thorn:  Couldn't find my keys.
Rose:  I have a husband nice enough to give me his keys to the car.

Thorn: While I was at the bank, I locked my keys (and my husband's keys) in my car...while it was running (This is what happens when you are too busy fretting about things out of your control.  You forget to prevent problems that you can control).
Rose:  I have a car that runs.

Thorn:  I had to pay somebody to unlock my car for me.
Rose: The guy I paid was located 2 doors down from the bank so he was able to do it in a jiffy.

Thorn:  My client was having a bad day (which made my job difficult).
Rose:  I went to a great university that taught me how to handle this difficult situation.




After my meltdown earlier this week I've been trying really hard to do this.  It has been helpful.  Am I still a little worried and stressed about other things? Pfft, yes!  But it isn't the consuming kind of stress.  It is the "Since-the-Lord-was-merciful-enough-to-help-with-the-little-things-I-know-He's-going-to-take-care-of-the-big-things-too-but-I-wish-I-knew-how" kind of stress.  Know what I mean?

Anyway, for those of you who were here hoping for a funny Peyton story, I'm sorry to disappoint.  We will return to posts about her shinanigans soon.  Man, oh man.  I can't wait to tell you about the latest doozy...

Peyton wanted to wear a dress this morning...

...and I let her.  No big deal, right?

Well, tonight she wanted to watch a movie and I didn't even need to scan the living room before I told her that she needed to pick up her toys first.  Earlier this morning Juju was driving her nuts so Peyton dragged the entire toy box to the front room so that Juju would busy herself with that instead of crawling on top of Peyton.  By 7 p.m. every toy had made its way out of the box.

Fast forward to 7:30 and Peyton is in a state of absolute hysteria.  Through loud sobs, Peyton has this conversation with me:

Me:  Peyton, I know you want to watch a movie but I can't let you do that until you pick up your toys.

Peyton:  But I not WANT to (insert snot sound) pick up my toys!

Me: Then no movie.

Peyton: (Rocking herself in a small Rubbermaid tub that she barely fits into) I not want to pick up toys!  I a princess!  I wear a dress! I want a movie!


Me:  But Peyton, didn't you know?  Princesses always pick up their toys!  I can help you!  Once they are picked up, you may watch a movie!

Peyton: NO!  I wear a dress!  Princesses NOT pick up toys!  Mommy picks up toys! 


She then kicked over the box of toys that I had started to help clean up and screamed "I NOT watch movie ever AGAIN!" and ran away and locked herself in her room.

Umm...is this adolescence (har har har)?  I don't know where it came from!  She is usually really good about cleaning up. It's a good thing she sprinted down the hallway and sent herself to a room.  Saved me the trouble of doing it.

To My Mom

I'm glad that we get to celebrate mothers tomorrow.  While I'm trilled and flattered that my husband and girls are going to celebrate me (YAY!) I can't help but wish that I could celebrate with my mother.  Seriously.  She is awesome.  She deserves ``a lot of recognition.  She deserves breakfast in bed and a delicious dinner.  She deserves to be pampered.  She deserves to be showered with gifts.  Due to the fact that we're still poor college kids and we live far away, she isn't going to get any gifts or pampering from me.  She will get a card.  Due to my scatter-brained nature, she will get her card late.  Sigh.  So much less than what she deserves, BUT I want her, and all of you guys, to know exactly why she deserves so much.  Here is a list of a few things my mother taught me.

1) You can do anything as long as you know there's an end. Always good to hear in the middle of a trial.  Or a semester.  Or a pregnancy.  Or potty training.

2) My Savior loves me. Before I was able to develop my own testimony, I knew that Christ loved me.  I knew because my Mom told me.  I knew she was right because she was smart.  I also knew she'd never lie to me.

3) Use your right foot to accelerate AND to brake.

4) You can always find something to be grateful for.   My junior year, after my sister died, we moved into this tiny shack.  My mom became a single mother who still had 7 children to care for. As you can imagine, we had very little money. We had a van and it seemed like something was always going wrong with it.  We were on our way back from Bryan, where she spent the last little bit of money we had getting the brakes fixed.  We were tired.  Tired of being sad that my sister was gone.  Tired of the dumpy shack with the awful bathroom.  Tired of being broke. Tired of everything being a struggle.  As we neared home, a tire blew out.  The van swerved a little and Mom was able to pull it over.  She started to cry and put her head on the steering wheel.  I knew that this had just broken her.  She lifted up her head and suggested that we should pray.  I folded my arms and waited for her to pray for the Lord to give us a break or to show us some way out of our predicament.  She didn't pray for those things.  She bowed her head and thanked the Lord for keeping us safe and for His constant care.  As she said her tearful prayer, I realized that her tears were from being overwhelmed with gratitude, not from sadness.  I was surprised and humbled.  When she had finished praying I told her how that wasn't the prayer I thought she'd offer.  She looked surprised and said, "Courtney, we could have been in an accident and gotten very hurt.  The Lord blessed us and kept us safe."  I think about that a lot.  I mean A LOT.  When things seem terrible this is usually what pulls me out of the funk (admittedly, I usually struggle and whine before I remember). 

5) You don't walk on a softball field.  You run to your position, you hussle after the ball,  then you run off the field to the dugout.  So, perhaps not the most important lesson she taught me but she was my coach for a lot of years and I'm unable to forget it.  While she meant it literally, I think you can also apply the concept to life.  Don't putt through life; always be anxiously engaged in a good cause.

Mom, you put up wth an awful lot.  I know you don't think so, but you have also taught me a lot about patience (I said you taught me.  I didnt say I learned).  I'm grateful you showed so much patience with us.  I know we were always quick to tell you what you did wrong (and sometimes we still do-sorry), but you did so much right.  I am a much better person than I would have been without your example.  Thanks for all of the sacrifices you made for us.  You stayed up late while I slept so you could type my 5 page paper that I had written by hand and forgot to type.  You hunted in ditches trying to find the shoe that flew off the top of my car on the way to school.  You showed up to my performances, games, banquets, and concerts, often with very little notice.  You picked me up in the middle of the night from sleepovers when I just wanted to come home.  You did my paper routes when I was sick.  You flew out to Idaho because I wanted my mom for  my birthday.  Basically, you are the bomb-diggity.  Thanks for everything.  I love you.