and there you have it…



sweet sleep

When we moved we upgraded to a king size bed, if it was just us or we had less children I would have really seen no need. We do like each other still and don’t feel the need to sleep on opposite sides of the room from each other. However, reality is, there are five of us, and by morning (especially chiller ones like this one) all five are in our bed.

This is what I woke up to this morning, and it just made my heart melt. Look at that tangled up mess of baby snuggles.



posting again about…trash cans

Look at me! I’m posting again! I am proud of myself, you should be too, since we know none of us really believed this was going to happen. My sister and I put together a bunk bed from IKEA on monday. I feel as if I could just leave this post with that statement alone and it would be enough. I have never seen so many little unidentifiable pieces. But it is together and seems to be servicable. Jena is slightly terrified of how big it is, but Grant is loving it. Just one more adjustment to add to the mix, we like keeping it raw over here.

On the moving front, I still have the same half dozen boxes sitting in my garage that I had there since a week after we moved, and we are now coming up on the one month mark. It is mostly stuff for the kids’ room, and well, there’s usually someone sleeping in that room. Also I need trash cans. I have a million places to put them and I only own four. I actually picked up more at IKEA when we bought the bed, but somehow they managed to not come home with me. I think there is a trash can conspiracy going on, they know they will be used for nasty diapers and they bailed on me. I don’t blame them really, but I still need them. In the meantime I have decided that the upstairs can only have one of the aforementioned trash cans. So I aimlessly wander the upstairs trying to remember which room I have most recently decided is the most strategic place for the sole trash can…kid’s room, guest bathroom, master bath, ect.

And well that’s all for now.

working much?

The other night I was sleeping on the couch, let me pause for minute. No I was not in the dog house, no I was not physically separating myself from my husband, there was no fighting, arguing or anything like that going on. I don’t really remember what was going on, but it probably had more to do with Jacob being a bed hog and the couch bed already being made into a bed, probably.

So anyway, I was sleeping on the couch and I vaguely hear Jacob wake up, one of the dream like wakings, where you’re not really sure what’s going on. I didn’t get up, I was a bit disoriented, and all of a sudden I look up and there’s Neil, standing at the side of couch holding Jacob.

Neil: he needs the special stuff

Me: wha?

Neil: the special stuff Joy, from the special pages.

Me: pages? webpages? what are you talking about?

Neil: the special pages, the special pages!

Somehow we all ended up back in bed and Jacob nursed and went back to sleep. The next morning when I woke up I got a good laugh out of our midnight delirium. I think my husband’s been working a little too hard on the online development portion of his job, either that or I’ve developed some special pages I’m unaware of…

the new normal

School started this month. We’ve made a few adjustments in our schedule to accommodate.  Neil comes in earlier in the morning and does afternoon pick ups, and I come in later after I’ve dropped all the kids off. We are adjusting, some days are better than others. This morning was, well, special.

Guys you can skip this paragraph. Women, a little context. I got my hair cut last night, and I hate it, for the first time in like forever. I waited for 45 mins to get said haircut and then had to follow it by going out in public to buy everything we ran out of while I was working overtime last week and couldn’t shop. Since we’d used Jacob’s last diaper putting him to bed, this was not a delay-able trip. I didn’t get home till after 10pm only to find my period had started while I was out! Yippie! Then I woke up with cramps this morning, which I haven’t had since we started having kids. On to the morning.

As per the new normal, the alarm goes off at 5:30am, and wakes me up. Unfortunately, I no longer need to be up at 5:30.  As it continues to go off I hear movement in the adjacent room, Jena’s signature door slam as she exits their room gives her away. Before I can plan for her attack, she’s climbed into our bed, barely missing her sleeping brother. Just as she’s quieting back down with me I figure it’s about time for the alarm to go off again. Sure enough, there it is, that mechanical cell phone sounds I’ve grown to loathe. This time I feel Jacob begin to stir on the other side of me, with in minutes he’s managed to accomplish what the alarm had been attempting for the last half an hour.

Both kids are plopped in front of the TV, Neil jumps in the shower and I desperately throw a pillow over my head and try to go back to sleep. What seems like 5 mins later my alarm starts going off and I hear Jena come in as she’s dressing herself to say ‘THANK YOU FOR BUYING ME GOLDFISHES MOMMY!’ My half asleep brain only notices that I don’t have to get her dressed and she was polite, how nice I think. Only now as I’m writing this do I realize I never checked to make sure she took her nighttime diaper off and switched to panties (she frequently forgets this part of the process), hmm….I wonder how that turned out.

Anywho, I stumble out of the bedroom, trying to duck for cover, but I’m spotted. Screams of help ensue as Jacob strains to get out of his high chair. I’m too tired to do anything yet and there is no way I can let him down to play while in the shower. He has mastered the climbing of EVERYTHING, the proper method of descent however still eludes him.

With a clearer head, after a quick shower, I walk into the living room and Jena’s sweet little ‘Thank you’ this morning comes rushing back. It is a gold fish grave yard in my so recently cleaned living room (mistake one, cleaning the living room; mistake two, expecting it to still be that way when I got up). I removed the bowls of semi surviving fishies from the couch among the chorus of screams. Jacob still wanting to get down, Jena traumatized I had taken her fishies away, and Grant who was just trying to make me hear above it all that he was indeed still hungry!

We do our breakfast mayhem, peppered all through out with screaming fits for MORE FISHIES MOMMY WHAAA!!! Making me regret every buying them in the first place. When we are all finally somewhat satisfied with breakfast poor tired Jacob is finally about to be released. As I’m getting him out of his high chair I realize he’s not been changed yet this morning. So rather than let his soaked diaper leak all over more stuff I strip it off and throw it in the trash. Thrilled to be free he toddles off to play. I figure I’ll give him a minute to air out and I got to the laundry room to grab my work clothes (mistake one, not putting my work clothes away this week; mistake two, thinking there’s a difference between a 5 minutes shower and a 30 second trip to the laundry room). When I come back in Jena gleefully greets me with ‘MOMMY JACOB POOPED ON DA FLOOR!’ Looking back now it seems enormously funny, though I’m quite sure shock and/or dismay was my initial reaction.

I grab some toilet paper and chokingly grab the enormous turd that was adorning my living room rug and deposit it in the toliet…hmm…I can’t seem to remember flushing. Did I mention Neil is the first one home in the evenings now? Surprise honey! After depositing it in the proper place I notice there’s this pretty splash pattern on the side of my couch that wasn’t there before. Then I realize that’s about the right level for…yay for boys! There’s also poop foot prints? on the rug? Sure enough, Jacob, who was continuing to poop while I was preoccupied cleaning up the first mess, had stepped in part of it and was now spreading it around the rug as he toddled along.

This called for a change in direction. New mission: project clean baby. Grant runs for the diaper wipes, Jena keeps him entertained while I get the poop off his butt, his legs, his feet, and in between his toes (gross). Once he’s properly diapered and off playing in their room, I go back to cleaning up the carpet.

Jacob, however will have none of this being left alone thing, and the other two are WAY to interested in the poop to be persuaded to leave the living room. So I’m being pestered with poop questions from both of them while I scrub my rug. I somehow managed to get the last of it cleaned up before Jacob makes it into the living room (if you know the size of our house, you’d really know what a feat that was!)

I pick him up and start rounding things back up to leave, because yes we still have to get off to school and work this morning! I scrub my hands, I change my clothes, but I can’t seem to get rid of the poop smell. I then look at my smiling baby boy on my hip (since carrying him is easier than listening to him complain to me about being woken up at O dark thirty this morning, I can’t give him a nap it’s time to leave!), and realize he’s somehow managed to smear poop along the side of his face and into his hair.

Now that’s it lunchtime and I’ve had cookies and hours of relative peace (at work), this seems humorous. It will also be useful black mail later.


Dear Vacations,

Vacations you rock. I may venture to say you make life worth living. There are those that would feel that is taking it to far so I suppose it could be modified to say at the very least you make living life feel possible again. You take the lead out of my step and the knots out of my neck. Your ability to turn our 2:3 adult:child ratio to a more favorable number on the adult side is a win in all directions. I’ve even found myself enjoying the weather, the formly deplorable, hot, humid weather. I’ve been told it is still hot and humid, but when you’re at the beach or sailing, it just feels right. Maybe that’s what hot and humid was made for! I’ve had an epiphany! I hearby declare all hot and humid days must be spent at the beach or on a boat. Vacations I feel you will support.

As much as I’d like to continue this tribute to you, I must desist. I am obligated to continue to enjoy myself, and right now I feel like sleeping. So as I know you would want me to do, I am off to bed. Carry on with your awesomeness. I will be with you again tomorrow.


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