Petroleum Pickle

Even though I really want to forget this incident right now, I realize that someday in the very distant future, I may want to look back and laugh. (Obviously, you can see that Cambria is quite upset by the situation-- not.)

So we have this little bedtime battle thing with Cambria. She thinks she needs the amount of sleep required by a college student cramming for exams. You will think she is sound asleep, only to hear little feet pattering on the floor and the sound of. . .

Monday night: pages turning in books (investigation reveals a cozy library session with bedside lamp turned on)

Tuesday night: drawers opening (impromptu fashion show)

Wednesday night: quiet plastic clinks from a dark corner of living room (sneaking down to play with farm animals, thinking we won't hear her)

Thursday night: 156 ridiculously unnecessary potty trips ("but Mommy, I no go potty in my panties!" - this is called the child's trump card)

Friday night: giggles from room (up in JD's bed, trying to sneak his stuffed animals down to her bottom bunk while he is asleep)

Saturday night: library session in our room with our bedside lamps turned on in our bed

Sunday night: I need drink, I scared, I hungry, I thirsty, (etcetera, etcetera)

And yes, to those of you who have some great quick solution, I have been extremely consistant, firm, disciplined appropriately, sought advice-- pretty much everything I could think of. It is draining to spend all day with your little people and then all night, too. (Not that this is going to change for me anytime, soon, but hey, might as well up with a helpless baby instead of a defiant toddler!)

And then came the night of the vaseline. I thought she was asleep. She should have been. It was 9:45 pm and had been absolutely quiet for some time.

Little feet on the stairs.

"Hi, Mommy." totally cheerful

I look down at her. The front of her purple pajama top (appropriately emblazoned with owls- hey, maybe that's the problem) is smeared with vaseline. Her hands are coated with it. Her blonde hair is filled with the entire container (I checked) and standing on greasy ends.

I cried.

I put her in the tub, investigated the damage upstairs (miraculously minimal) and proceed to try to shampoo out the mess. Three complete washes and I can tell that I am going to need something other than shampoo. I toweled her hair off, protected her pillowcase and put her in bed, planning to tackle the problem in the morning when I could be calm and rational. (I did calmly throw the owl pajama top in the trash without even a smidge of guilt for not trying to salvage it.)

The next day provided some much needed comic relief for Daniel when he got to see the petroleum princess- he howled with laughter, and I had to admit, it was funny. She spent the day with a kercheif over her head. She hated it. I liked that. I didn't have time to deal with the mess until late that night; I started with the first suggestion someone had given me after I humbled myself and put up a public plea for help on Facebook. Cornstarch did the trick, bonded to the vaseline, and we washed it right out with shampoo.

It's just never dull, being a mom. Nope, not around here.

Trans-Siberian Orchestra

This is me and Daniel

and Lydia and Tim

and people for the next six blocks, apparently unsteady on their feet after a night with TSO and the lights and lasers!

Entertainment and Relaxation Mommy-Style

Girls Night.

{The last time I did a girls night out? Oh. . . . it was a long, long time ago. And movies? On the big screen?! In March for Shopaholic. And before that? Mmmmm. . . .I can hardly remember. It was too long ago.}

We wanted to see this: Well, sorry, it only showed once today, at 1pm.

Hmm, let's see if we can find another theater showing it.

Three of us, over by the phone booth phone book, texting husbands to see if they could come up with another theater showing something other than Saw 6, suddenly realized that something that would be annoying for the average movie goer really didn't bother us at all. A long delay? No prob. No one was complaining about hunger or potty trips! It was kind of frightening to realize that we were having a lot of fun doing. . . really, nothing. We ended up shopping at Target until the late showing of this:

which was very funny. It feels good to laugh. Especially with girlfriends.

Now for another cup of coffee to jolt me back to the reality of my mommy-job. {Which I always enjoy a lot more after a little break.}

What men will never feel:

With eleven weeks of pregnancy left, I'm celebrating by pointing out a few things that are just unforgettable about carrying a baby that men will never experience.

~"beached whale syndrome" (this is where you try to roll over in bed)

~hunger but no room in their stomachs for food. (This is why pregnant women seem to eat all the time. We really aren't eating that much - we just have to eat lots of little meals.)

~sharp kicks to their kidneys.

~the need to use the restroom before they go to bed, before they actually go to sleep, two hours after they fall asleep, two hours before they wake up, and the minute their eyes pop open in the morning.

~inability to reach comfortably to shave legs or paint toenails. (oh, wait. . . men don't do that.)

~the need for five different sizes of clothes for their different stages: Normal (whatever that is), the "Is-She-Preggo-Or-Just-Putting-On-Weight?" stage, Pregnant (where you can sort of look cute in maternity tops), REALLY Pregnant (the two month period where everyone feels the need to remind you how uncomfortable you look) and then Post-Pregnancy. (No, you do not revert back to "normal" when the little munchkin pops out. In fact, that introduces a whole slew of different sizing problems.) This is why we need to shop!

So~ did I leave any experiences out?

Cuddles

. . .and his glasses!

And just for the record, he usually doesn't wear his hat backwards. . . Cambria did that for him!

I love Grandpa. . .

 

Every emergency needs someone to take charge!

(I asked Daniel to caption this picture of Cambria in the engine ~ I guess she looks like she's taking charge, huh?!)

Balance

"Our lives hang in the balance, one might say. And if there is no balance, then they are indeed hanging by a thread." {Robert Benson}

The menu this week. . .

. . .because I think they are fun to read.

. . .because I would like to read yours.

. . .because I spend half of my life right now doing food related things, and there ought to be some acknowledgment of this. (Besides consuming the food.)

~ Creamy Chicken Soup and Pumpkin Dinner Rolls

~ Carbonara and Spinach Salad

~ Shake and Bake Chicken Fingers, Squash, and Peas

~ Waffles and Fruit Smoothies

~ Pizza

~ Chili - topped Baked Potatoes

~ Roast Beef, Potatoes and Carrots (crock pot style)

I mix and match this menu and will probably be able to stretch it into next week. Breakfasts and lunches here are very simple and fuss free. Yogurt, oatmeal, fresh fruit, toast combination for breakfasts and usually simple sandwiches with raw vegetables for lunch. My kids could live on carrot sticks and ranch dressing! (Daniel, not so much. )

Creamy Chicken Soup

3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1/3 cup italian dressing
6 small red skinned potatoes, scrubbed and diced
6 carrots, scrubbed and sliced
3 celery stalks, sliced
1 bunch green onions, minced
4 cups chicken broth
2 cups milk
1 8 ounce package neufchatel cheese
2 cups frozen peas
fresh ground salt and pepper

Cook the chicken and dressing in Crock Pot on High for 4-5 hours; cut into small pieces, reserving liquid for soup. Combine the chicken, broth, onions, potatoes, carrots, celery and liquid from chicken in a large saucepan. Simmer until tender. Add milk, neufchatel, and peas. Stir until cheese is melted and peas are cooked. Season to taste.

Deep Thoughts

I. Wish. I. Could. Be. Organized.

{Lydia & Tim}

They are so happy. . .

The famous ducks

It Flies. I think.

I have thrown this . . . thing . . . in the trash three different times now. It mysteriously keeps rescuing itself from certain destruction. Hmm. I wonder if it is recruiting outside help?