J-Bear loves them so much that he's replaced the words to Jingle Bells with the words "chicken nuggets" which he repeats over and over again to the tune. It's quite lovely. He also likes to say "knock, knock, who's there, chicken nuggets".
Anyhow, today we were out and about running errands and as tummies began to yearn for food, the chicken nugget requests began coming my way. (Huge shocker!)
I threw out the "we have no money" excuse and we came home.
As we pulled into the garage, my ever resourceful Ms. Els said something like, "If we can find the money, can we get nuggets?"
Sure. Why not. I personally threw out about 400 pennies while I was cleaning the house this past week, so I was pretty sure that wasn't going to happen.
About 10 minutes later the three little hoodlums came up to me in the kitchen and dumped a truck-load of loose change on the counter. Their little eyes were gleaming with joy as Ms. Els divided the change into piles of quarters, dimes, nickles and pennies. (Frankly, I was a little annoyed that any pennies had survived my purging!)
After adding it all up the grand total was ..... $7.52. I do not lie.
How to tell if a dog is right for you...
Steve, however, as an employee of the health care organization we were were visiting, was slightly insulted that we were in and out without his expected "touch of healing". I thought it was the world's BEST ever visit to the doctor. In and out in 20 minutes with no crying children and a prescription to happy land. I call that excellence in health care.
I quickly cleared the gremlins out of the room and gently suggested Papa Bear try to sleep it off.
This time he was yelling and said, "I don't know why I'm so mad!!"
"It's the meds talking." I replied.
If only that was the first time that phrase had been uttered in our household.
If only it would be the last.
Try not to be fooled by the darling face you see displayed here. This child is giving her mother a run for her money!
I could begin by saying something about how lovely it is to sit here listening to my three kids playing down in the freshly cleaned playroom while I dabble on-line.
*Waking up a little faster than they expected and finding your feet hanging from the ceiling is a little disconcerting.
*Having the super old, but super great, anesthesiologist repeatedly call you "Buddy" is strangely comforting. And at least it wasn't "Honey" or the ever dreaded "Dear"!
*I'd like to personally thank whatever cable station was having the James Bond Movie Marathon last night for helping keep my mind of a crummy evening.
*And last but not least, knowing people are praying for you makes a lot of impossible situations feel a little more bearable.
Thank you!
Not one to be left out when the opportunity is ripe for drama, Ms. Els began scrunching up her eyes in an attempt to work up some tears. None came. In her best fake quivery voice she said, "Did my fish die Mom?"
Dead Fish? Nice. I can see she has a future career as a headstone wordsmith.
"I can't believe my fish is dead." Ms. Els whined.
"Oh jeez Els, it wasn't even your fish. When we got the dog you said the fish could be mine. And now I can't even take it for show-n-tell." Cadie Lu was more annoyed that Ms. Els tried to reclaim ownership than she was that her fish was gone.
"Hey, Mom, I know!" Cadie Lu managed to pull herself out of her grief. "Do we have any firetrucks? Firetruck starts with "F"!"
And with that our mourning period ended.
I feel better already!
Next stop.... Broadway!!
I was going for this:
Savvy?
Fast forward to the birth of my first child about 7 years ago (next month!). It was November. I had gone from working full-time and playing with my friends, to parenthood and staying home. It was cold and snowy and wet. My baby was tiny and didn't sleep and I think she may have hated me a little bit.
What to do? I'm addicted. There are days that all I want is for the kids to go to bed so that I can eat my pint of Ben and Jerry's (or B&J as addicts like me call it) and allow its soothing softness to melt away the last stresses of the day.
Somehow this self-talk: "Nice work, Aspen! Today you managed to keep it together and your kids are all still alive. The dog continues to find shelter in your home. Your husband got a wink and a butt slap. You deserve a carrot stick!! You go girl! Eat that carrot stick and think about what a great person you are. Just gnaw on that sucker until it fills you with joy!"
Isn't having the same affect as this: "Nice work today lady! You managed to hold your tongue and even smile a bit. Have some ice-cream. And that warm brownie...MMM......" the rest is lost as I sink into bliss.
Carrot sticks are something every human being is entitled to. Dessert is a reward.
And this is why I'll never be thin.
So even though this job of motherhood sometimes feels like it has stripped me to the core and left me in tears, I can honestly say I have no regrets. Nothing else in my life has ever required this scale of work, prayer and simply "muscling through it".
What does this have to do with me getting pregnant? Everything. You see, in my heart I kept feeling like we were supposed to have another baby. But in my mind I didn't necessarily want another baby. Three kids felt pretty great. I'm no newbie, I know exactly what having another baby would entail, and I was content.
My bad for actually saying out loud that I was content!!
So, in my twisted way, I decided that those "feelings" I was getting to have another baby were just a test of my willingness to obey promptings.
Are you following me?
I decided that if I went ahead and stopped preventing pregnancy, then that would be good enough proof of my willing heart, and, much like Abraham, I wouldn't have to actually go through with what I was being asked to do.
It would appear that I'm not actually like Abraham at all. You see, I got pregnant.
So, am I surprised? Not really. I mean, I wasn't preventing it.
But still... Imagine my surprise!!
If it's a boy, I'm totally naming him Isaac!
(But none of you can tell him why!)
Due April 12, 2011.
I'm trying to understand why it is that pregnancy throws me back to adolescence.
The acne, the mood swings, the wanting to sleep the day away.
However, under all the surprise, fear, anxiety and illness is the realization that there was a time in my life when I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to have babies. It took us a long time to get that ball rolling. And now I'm pregnant with my fourth.
So, even though I feel lousy and unsure, I'm grateful for the mini-miracle that each of my pregnancies has been.
That said:
If it's a boy we shall call him Finito.
If it's a girl we shall call her Oopsie Daisy.
(But not really!)
The next time I start to forget about the important things, I'm going to hook arms with someone and skip around the room until I remember just how good life really is!
I loudly sighed in the universal sign of I-have-no-desire-to-deal-with-this and I-should-let-my-kids-have-fun. Recognizing the sigh, and that I was torn in my response, Ms. Els quickly jumped in with:
"Mom, you have my TOTAL GUARANTEE that we won't make a mess."
Faced with such a strong arument, I was forced to cave and let the water play commence. Also, I wanted to see how this Total Guarantee played out.
It flopped like a fart in church.
I went into the kitchen a while later to find about 52 soaking wet towels on the counter and kitchen floor. The boat, 5 different water bowls (apparently they were lake hopping) and various Polly Pockets were all spread about. The culprits had fled the scene and moved onto more lucrative mess making opportunities.
I called Ms. Els back to cash in on her Total Guarantee.
"Uh, Els, what happened to your Total Guarantee?" I asked.
"Cadie Lu happened." She replied with all sincerity. Nicely played.
"Well, since you made the guarantee you're going to have to clean it up." I stated.
She did so grudgingly. As I watched her schlepping wet towels down to the laundry room I couldn't help but think of that line from Tommy Boy where Chris Farley's character says something like, "I can stamp a guarantee on a box of crap, but it's still a box of crap."
I'm hoping this will teach her that you can't throw guarantee's around willy-nilly unless you're willing to back it up.
It's like I always say... keep expectations low, make no promises, and you will succeed. Of that you have my Total Guarantee.
