In Alex Words

I really need to get in the habit of writing on here a little more often. I find myself saying," I need to write this stuff down" all the time. Well, duh isn't that what you started a blog for? I am a little slow sometimes.

Alex is absolutely the funniest kid I have ever met. The shit he comes up with is at times is hilarious. In no particular order, some of the things he has recently mused about:

As my mother and I were talking in the kitchen, Alex was in the powder room. I have no idea what we were talking about, but apparently it was very distracting to Alex and his task. He yells out, " can you be quiet, I am trying to poop."

In reference to another toilet function, he begins to laugh and shouts out, " hey! Look, my lemonade made my pee!" Yellow in the cup. Yellow in the toilet. Yep, hysterical stuff for a 3 year old boy.

Alex asked me, " Did God make me?" Yes. " With a machine?" No, with love. " Where?" In my tummy. " That's disgusting!" He was very, very serious with this conversation and didn't skip a beat either.

He still has the very cute habit of making his object words cutesy little boy words. When something isn't in his direct line of vision he begins to call for it, like it is a dog and will come running to him. "Trainey? Traaainey? Trainey!?"
Cuppie is also a frequently lost pet.

Comfany, is a word that I absolutely loved. It was an awesome word. He requests every night after getting into his bed and settling down, for me to make him comfany. Which simply means, comfy. I'd place his blanket of choice on his and his grin was total self satisfaction. Now, today, he told the cat he was going to make her comftable. Still cute, but not comfany. My little man is getting big.

There is so much more, but since I have not been writing it down, I am already forgetting.

A Little Smile Goes A Long Way

Blogging is slipping again, from the list of things to do. My husband doesn't have a job. We don't have health insurance. I am lucky to have my own job, one that can give me extra hours, because there are always people calling for help. But, I am tired. So, so tired. I know his job loss isn't his fault. Really, I do. But I find myself being so angry and resentful. It seems that only my life has changed. I am working 16 and 24 hour shifts. I am finding that my age is creeping up on me. My knees are sore, my back is sore and I am weary. I want to cry. I know that I am not the only person, mother, wife to feel like this. But sometimes it feels like I am so alone. I miss my babies so badly yet I get short tempered and snap at them. I want to halt time so they can stay little for just a moment longer and yet I want them to get older so I can come in from work at 7am and go to sleep. Depression sucks. Even if all were right in my little world it would still be there creeping in like a serpent trying to suck me down into it's deep, dark, vacuum. My babies are happy, they are healthy, we do have a roof over our heads, heat comes from our furnace, water runs cool or warm. We have enough to eat. I know it could be so much worse.

We splurged big time last Friday and took the kids to see Arthur Christmas. They all got a box of candy (from 5 Below) and we shared a large soda and popcorn. They all loved it and wore their 3D glasses and it almost made me feel completely better for having missed Thanksgiving with them because I worked.

Alex is totally our comedian. He has made me want to strangle him and laugh out loud in the exact same moment from his antics. As I scolded my oldest for inappropriate behavior at the dining room table, Alex says " hey Mommy, you be nice to Anthony." So, I sternly tell my Alex, " you are being fresh, you do not talk to Mommy or Daddy like that, do not talk back." To which Alex slaps his forehead while saying " wooont woont woont!" " I am a secret agent." "Yes, Alex you are a secret agent!" And a Mimja Mommy, a mimja fireman.

At least he made me smile again :o)

My secret agent, ninja fireman wearing his 3D glasses at his first movie!

Then What?

The horrible thing about depression is even that I know I have suffered from depression, at times horribly, when it comes crashing back in an unexpected time or moment it blindsides me. I guess my depression is more anxiety. An overpowering, heavy brick that sits on me and won't let me come up for air. I shake and it will not stop. I get really agitated with the kids, and their normal kid stuff. The paperwork I am trying to gather in order to get insurance coverage for the kids when Joe's benefits expire on October 31 is daunting.

Trying to make phone calls to plead with utilities and other bill people is horrifying and embarassing and it doesn't fail that a child comes and starts hollering in my face while I am trying to make progress. And the pressure builds inside and I feel like I will explode. I walk away because there is no other option. I don't feel like I can properly and fairly instruct and discipline them when I am feeling so out of control with myself. How will I get this stuff done and protect my children and provide for them? I feel alone. My husband doesn't seem overly concerned. He thinks he will quickly find another job. I worry about what is going to happen after his last check comes. Then what?

2 dollar Goldfish

Anthony the Fish has resided dutifully in a tank, in Anthony the boy's room for over 3 years. He is a symbol of Anthony the boy growing up, becoming a big boy. You see, my Anthony was a real binky addict, this was enabled by his mother ( me ), of course it was. I know. I slowly started " weaning" him from it when he was about 2. I had him cut down to just at bedtime when his baby sister was born. She came in the door with a binky in her mouth, Anthony looked pitifully around the room and pleaded for his binky. My husband was ready to tow the line and I said, give him his binky (enabler). 2 days later the newborn wanted nothing to do with her bink and my binky addict was a very satisfied little man!

Flash forward to his 3 year old check up at the dentists office where talk of " permanent mouth disfigurement" and " orthodontics" arose. Oh Lord, why didn't I just stick to my guns. At 3 my Anthony was a very smart boy. He heard the discussion and flatly said no, I will not give up my binky. I resolved to do the deed got all hormonal and wanted to let him be a binky addict as long as he wanted. But I realized it was time. It was time to be a big boy. I needed to get ahold of myself and get the damn binky away... (Thank GOD the baby rejected the bink at day #2!)

I did what any good mother does and went to the internet in search of ideas. None appealed to me. Cutting holes in a latex pacifier seemed a very unnecessary choking risk. He already had a new baby to give the binkies to and he knew damn well that wasn't going to happen. Binky fairy, he didn't blink. Cold turkey with no reward wasn't happening from this angle. I couldn't handle the though of it. Somehow, I came up with the idea of replacing the binky with something he would really like to have. . Darned if I could come up with something to give him that he thought was a good idea. Until one afternoon we wandered around the petsmart store because he LOVED to look at the fish did it dawn on me to ask him if he wanted a fish! Hello! He said yes, he wants a fish. I told him all he had to do to get a fish was give the binky to the people at the store to pay for his fish. He didn't bite. But that afternoon when we went home he asked and asked for a fish. So, I finally gathered some mother sense and told him that on Friday, we would go back to the store and get a fish. But, he had to give his binky to the people at the store so he could have the fish. I told him that this means he would not have his binky anymore. He thought about it and said, " but I can have a fishy?" I said yes, you can have a fish but no more binky. He said ok. So every day, I told him how many more sleeps until Friday ( you know, like you have to go to sleep at night time 4 more times, that's how we count down our days here on the ark - it works don't knock it.) Back to the fish and binky. He was getting excited as the days went by. He could tell me that he would be getting a fish because he is a big boy and he will give the binky to the store and he will not have a binky anymore. Friday morning, we got up and I told him it was Friday, no more sleeps! He was very excited for his very own fish.

So, we get to the store where I have to corner the fish kid and explain the deal, she looked at me like I had 12 eyes but I gave her that don't screw this up sort of desperate look and she went along with the plan. My boy was looking at all the fish, I showed him which tanks he could choose from. When he decided, I knelt down and asked him what he had to do to get his fishy, he told me in a very quiet voice, " give the lady my binky, no more binky for big boys." I melted away and snatched him and his fish and his binky out of there. I handed him his binky inside a baggie and said ok buddy, let go ahead and get you your fish. He very shyly walked up to the still very skeptical fish kid and slowly raised him hand out and looked up at me with excitement and fear, but he did it. He handed the girl the bag and asked if he could have a fish. He then ran to the tank and pointed crazily at the fish he wanted! The fish girl at this moment rose to the occasion and let my boy help her get the fishy into the net and into the bag! He really was so proud! We spent about $40 on a bowl, rocks and food and water conditioner a net and a smaller catch bowl for water cleaning day, and 2 dollars for the fish who Anthony immediately named, Anthony. My big boy! We got the bowl and fish all situated and he called Daddy and Mom Mom and Uncle Rich on the phone to tell them all that he is a big boy and his very own fish! It was awesome. Until, bedtime. He cried and cried for his binky, he told me to take Anthony the fish back he doesn't want the fish he wants his binky. I think I cried too, but I did the smart thing and got rid of all the extra binkies before this could happen so I really didn't have any to fall back on. It only took a few nights and he stopped crying, he occasionally asked for the binky back, but was always so proud of his fish. He still to this day can tell you how he got Anthony the fish.

This morning, my daughter came running into the room telling me there was an emergency with Anthony the fish. Oh no. My heart sunk. You see, 2 days ago my youngest son earned his very own goldfish too and since I had no intention of have a 3rd fish tank for all of 3 gold fish ( yep, Catie the fish lives in Caitlin's room in a tank because she pooped in the potty) I told the boys that the fish would share their tank just like they shared their bedroom. They both bought it and proclaimed Anthony the fish, and Goldie Train Whistle ( yes, Alex is a way more creative fish namer than the other 2 are) were " bestest friends!" But it seems the shock of sharing his tank with the new fish was not one Anthony the fish was prepared for. He was on the bottom of the tank amongst the rocks barely moving. This is worse than a dead fish. Because how can I just let Anthony the fish die. I have to do something to save him. My husband looked at me like I had again lost my mind. But I could not just let the fish die without trying something, my Anthony had done the bravest thing possible and GAVE UP his BINKY for this fish (ok, this is actually AF #2 because the cat ate AF #1 but Anthony the child DOES NOT KNOW THAT.) I googled. I salt bathed the fish. I googled some more. I changed filter cartridges, the old one wasn't very dirty and only a few days old since we put a new one in the day we brought the interloper into the tank. Finally I scooped up the fish and some tank water into a bowl and drove to the pet store and said please help. My son's heart will break if he finds his fish dead 2 days after adding a fish to the tank. He will blame the new fish and his brother. I can't let this happen. Again, kids at the fish store. They sold me $14 worth of remedies to try. They don't appear to be working. Anthony the fish was still lingering on the bottom of the tank.

After Anthony and I got in from school pick up, my husband and I told him that we had to talk about Anthony the fish. His face just drooped and he asked did he die. I explained that he was very sick and he probably will die, that we got medicine and we hope that it will make Anthony the fish better but it might not. He said, "ok, can I get another fish?" Seriously kid? I was like a nut all day trying to mend this stinking fish because he was your first rite of passage! My father said," next time think with your head not your heart. It's cheaper." Seriously, this fish is a symbol of my very first baby boy growing up. It's not just a fish. To me it's so much more than a 2 dollar fish.

Anthony the fish is just below Goldie the killer fishon their first day as "bestest friends."

Arts and Crafts

They suck. Period.

I hate letting them have glitter, glue, glitter glue, scissors and anything that will make a mess that I will have to be cleaned off of them, the floor, the table, etc. I let them do crafts once or twice a year - not kidding. Today was one of those days. They were so happy. They were not fighting. They were gluing, glittering, glitter gluing and foam shaping to their hearts content and it was then I realized, it is so quiet in here, they are playing together! They are having fun! They really aren't being too messy! And oh, the google eyes are really cute :o)

So I stole away to the basement to do some secret clandestine LAUNDRY. It was almost enjoyable. Then I came back up the stairs and noticed a horrible amount of what I wrongly assumed was shedded dog hair. Shed?!?! Oh, so silly of you to think that Mommy... Plastic. Round. Safety. Scissors. THEY CUT THEIR HAIR, THE DOGS HAIR AND THE CAT'S HAIR. Holy what the F people. No more crafts. No pictures either, I was busy throwing craft supplies away. HRUMPH.

Leaves and Children and Dogs, Oh My!

The weather was beautiful here on the east coast port for our Ark. I decided to get the kids and husband out to rake leaves and clean up the yard. My kids think raking leaves is fantastic. Usually, I start raking into 2 or 3 piles situated in strategic locations throughout the lawn. This takes awhile and really is not a favorite task of mine, you see, none of the leaves belong to me. Not a single, solitary tree on my property. I have the leaves, they all fall into my yard. Nobody elses yard. But, the kids, oh the kids love leaves! I fear this time of year, see our dogs - remember those inhabitants of the ark, they poop and pee in the yard. We (yard boy and I) diligently muck up the solids on a daily basis, but really, where do they think the liquid goes? Ugh, into the leaves and grass, and dirt, oh my.

No. No. No. We cannot, will not, you WON'T jump into leaf piles. THERE IS PEE AND POOP HIDING IN THERE SOMEWHERE.

 

 

And dogs named Boo Boo hide in the leaves too!

Going to the Store

This morning was rainy and I was not a fan of getting out of bed.  I don't do mornings.  Hate morning.  So, this morning Anthony and Caitlin ( previously referred to as Yard Boy, Ark Girl) both have school, YAY.  Thank God that Joe had been on call last night and was able to take both kids to school because I hate mornings.  He got up with Anthony, dressed him and took him to school and I didn't even know that it had happened.  I became vaguely aware that it was morning (ugh) when I heard Caitlin tell him that she couldn't wear those pants because they " pinch me."  Seriously, could it really be that time already, I just went to bed?  Although I was still in an "I don't want to get up funk," I realized that there was about to be some serious little girl getting dressed for school drama with Daddy so I got up and found them both with their heads in her closet.  Sigh.  Seriously, you have to tell her what she can wear, " but she's a girl", and?  If you don't tell her what she can wear, she'll be in a tutu and nothing else.  I averted crisis by selecting her " ballerina" and letting her pick from 2 shirts, handed daddy the tights ( mistake) and then went to go pee. (It is morning.)  I come back to find her mostly dressed, standing up trying to shove her legs into the tights,( insert scrunching up the legs instructions with blank stare from daddy here.)  Done, good I can go back to bed.  Nope, " mommy daddy mommy daddy" in a sing songy voice from the crib in the boys room. UGH.  It is almost 9 am, maybe I should get the poor boy up. And bring him into my bed to watch cartoons. Not, he is hungry and wants milk.  OK rainy day, I guess I am up and should be productive since Joe has gotten 2 kids ready and off to school today.
So, I dilly dally ( drink coffee, check e-mail etc etc etc) and realize holy CRUD it's 11am and I need to get my butt dressed to pick Catie up from school.  I hate mornings, especially when they are rainy.
( Alex is dressed, has had his milk and 2 banana's and we have brought his tools and work bench up from the basement - see I was productive.) 
We pick Catie up from school and I still don't want to go to the store although I don't have a lot of food to speak of.  So, off to the wholesale club we go.  Mind me, I realize I could have done this with only one child in tow but I guess I don't know better by now. Or I was having a really bad morning.
We get an awesome spot at the store, it's raining, we are right next to the carts, jackpot!  Get out of car, grab semi-dry cart and position it next to the car. Unbuckle kids from car seats, plop them both in the back of the cart and give Catie the umbrella to hold over her and Alex, mad giggles from them both, and we make it into the store without a hitch!!! 
" I'm hungry" says Catie
" hungry" says Alex
Ok, snack stand.  Do you want a pretzel or a hot dog. " Popcorn" says Catie. No, do you want a pretzel or hot dog, those are your choices. "Popcorn" says Catie.  Note the guy behind me in line butts right in front and says to the lady 1 hotdog please.  " Pet-zel" says Alex, "POPCORN".  No. "POPCORN"  Can I have 2 pretzels, "2 dollars." says the cashier, AND AN ICEE please, "3 dollars", " HOW BOUT A WATER TOO?"  Seriously, I am the only person in line you don't have to cart the girl around can you be a little more patient with us?  I hand a pretzel to Alex, take a bite out of mine and Catie finally says " hawt dawg" in a low, clearly not happy with the situation pout.  " And a hot dog please!"  ( Now there is a line forming)  I hand over the hot dog and pay the impatient cashier lady and the nice man behind me says " she dropped her hot dog."  WTF?  Lovely cashier lady is now ignoring me as I say excuse me can I have just one more hot dog, Alex is shreaking because he has spotted the empty icee cup and seriously, why am I at this place?  The nice man behind us, somehow procures us a new and free hot dog, get the icee filled and commence with shopping.  Now, they are fighting over the icee, she doesn't want to try on the winter jacket that I specifically came to this store to find, and she drops the damn " hawt dawg" again. Here EAT MY PRETZEL.  Still fighting over the damn icee.  Get the crap I need, go to the SELF CHECK OUT so I don't have to deal with any more impatient employees.  Insert debit card to pay. Rejected. Try again, I know there is money in there I checked. Rejected. Line forming. Try again. Rejected. AREYOUKIDDINGMEIKNOWIHAVEMONEYINTHERE. Press button to cancel sale because the damn card isn't working and I know there is money in there.  So, a new lady comes to help and suggests I try again or use cash - seriously would I be using the card if I had the cash in my hand. Lightbulb! use the mac machine. MAC rejects my request for cash. Are you kidding me? I assured the nice lady that I would come right back over with my cash and complete the purchase.  Try again. nada.  How 'bout the savings account, oh yeah I meant to transfer the money to the checking account this morning when I was on the computer doing nothing other than drink coffee wilst brooding over the fact that it was morning and I needed to get out of bed...