Here is another one of my knitting projects. I call her Daisy and I think that she is adorable. I have been participating in a summer clothes themed knit along on a crafting website called Ravelry.com This pattern can be purchased from Barbara Prime on Ravelry.
After much consideration and deliberation, while pounding fist full’s of Tums, and fighting spine tingling chills caused by the images of what could be, against our better judgment Elyse is in a toddler bed.
About three weeks ago now we took the plunge. We dismantled the crib, said a little prayer, and put Elyse to bed in Aaron’s old toddler bed. Petrified doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt about the move, but it was something that had to be done. She had turned two on June 1st. By the time that Aaron was two, he had been sleeping in a toddler bed for over seven months. Why did we wait so long? If you have to ask then you probably don’t know this little girl. Maniac describes her on a good day. She has a brain that is constantly churning out new and exciting ways to torture us. She is absolutely fearless and will scale anything given the opportunity. Do we really need to relive the poop story; Versions 1 AND 2?
The thought of her all alone in her room with absolute total freedom to live out whatever scheme she could devise caused my left eye to start twitching involuntarily. I have seen her in action and I know what she is capable of when adult supervision is present and ready to thwart her evil plans. I couldn’t even conceive the damage that could take place when given a ten to twelve hour span of time with no witnesses.
But, these milestones eventually have to take place and so on June 20th, Father’s Day, we took her to Wal Mart to pick out some big girl bedding. That night we read her some stories, sang her some Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, crossed our fingers, and closed the door behind us hoping that when we opened the door the next morning her room would still be standing and intact. It was quiet at first, but then there was a little knock at the door. She knocked for a while and then yelled that she had to use the potty. Ok, we can’t very well deny her potty privileges, so we let her out to pee. She went back to her bed, but then started knocking again. We started this at 8:30 PM. By 9:30 PM she was still knocking. Then things seemed to get quiet. Around 10:30 PM I went in to double check on her before Mike and I went to bed and she was STILL awake, sitting up in the middle of her bed with the biggest bags under her eyes that I have ever seen. When she saw me she said, “I need Twinkle, Twinkle.” So I sang her Twinkle, Twinkle, tucked her back in, and went to bed.
The rest of the night was quiet and when we walked back in the next morning we were relieved to find a happy, rested girl and a completely intact bedroom. After a few more nights of knocking on the door, she got with the program and now she goes to bed without a problem. She has only fallen out of bed a hand full of times and when she does wake up in the morning, she very quietly plays with a couple of toys until we go in to get her. The other morning I walked in and she had her blanket all stretched out on the floor, books all around her, and when she saw me she said, “I read stories, Mommy.”
Still, I am not completely confident that we won’t walk in there one morning to find her constructing a bomb with nothing more than some Desitin, left-over Cheerios, and a baby doll head, but that fear seems to lessen with every successful morning that she is not sitting in a pile of rubble that used to be her room. This was one of the milestones that I dreaded the most with her, but somehow, against all odds, things seem to be going well. My eye has almost completely stopped twitching and I am down to just one handful of Tums a day. Now if you will excuse me, Princess beckons from the baby monitor. Um, wait a second. Did I just hear her say, “Fire in the hole?” Nahhhh.
It’s so easy to get caught up in the daily routine and bogged down by the stresses of parenthood that we sometimes forget what got us to this point in the first place; each other. Back in the day, in a time before kids, we talked without interruption and we laughed liked there was little to worry about. Time was ours, and we lived every second of it.
Then…the kids came along.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that like it’s a bad thing. I firmly believe that Aaron and Elyse are why God put Mike and I together in the first place. A world without them is a world that I wouldn’t want to know. Our lives with kids, while stressful of course, are more joy-filled and precious than I ever could have imagined before they came along. But sometimes, I miss us and the time that we used to have to just focus on each other. The good thing, no, the fantastic thing is that it never takes us long to get back into that groove when given the opportunity. Yesterday evening was one such opportunity.
After a rough morning, and that’s putting it mildly, I put in a call to Grandma 911 and pleaded my case for a child free evening. Although it didn’t take much pleading because all my Mom really needs to here is hello and she is ready to take the kids indefinitely. 5:00 pm rolled around and we promptly dropped the kids off at my parent’s house and escaped for dinner. We talked and laughed, ate awesome burgers, and held hands as we walked. I could actually feel the tension of the day melt while we soaked up each other’s company.
It wasn’t long before it was time to head back to get the kids, but our evening was so us-filled and relaxing that I almost didn’t mind. Even this morning I can still feel the effects of our time together, and I am so much more relaxed and positive for it. No matter what is going on or how difficult things seem to be, all I need is some time with my husband and best friend. I am one lucky girl because Mike is both.
There comes a time in the life of every marriage when you have to sit down and take stock of what you have together as a couple. At some point you look around and realize that things just aren’t as new as they used to be. Perhaps they are a little worn or in some cases even broken, and you look at each other and say, “What in the hell happened to all of our stuff? Everything is falling apart!”
What? You knew that’s where I was going, didn’t you? How about you Sweetie? Mike?...Mike?...Hang on, let me get the smelling salts.
Ok, so as I was saying, seven and a half years of marriage have been a little rough on all of our household items and all of that great stuff that we got as wedding gifts is kind of falling apart. The things that we already owned and brought into our marriage have frankly seen better days, but as far as our marriage goes, our marriage is hotter and spicier than ever. Grrrrrrr Baby!
I remember right after I had my wedding shower, how excited I was to open everything and put all of our new stuff in its place. The dishes sparkled, the towels glimmered, and as far as the eye could see everything was new. Fast forward seven years later and things are starting to show their age. The rubber grips on my pots and pans still prevent third-degree burns IF you make sure to line up both pieces that are barely hanging on. Our microwave finally gave up the good fight and died a couple of months ago. The dishwasher that came with Mike as part of a combination bed/dishwasher/husband deal has gotten so lazy that using it is about the equivalent of blowing our dishes clean. House ware items of all kinds are choking and hacking up a lung right in front of me and our kitchen seems to be the place where appliances go to die.
It’s overwhelming to look around and realize how many things need to be replaced. Just this month we finally broke down and decided to pick something, just one thing whose time had come and make the move to finally replace it. After careful consideration and much deliberation, we decided to purchase a new bed. Our old bed was the one that Mike owned before we even met; no fancy headboard or anything, just a mattress and plain metal frame. It screamed bachelor, but when we first got married it seemed like a waste of money to buy something new because the thing technically still worked. It was soft, sheets fit on it, and no springs were hanging out. What more could you ask for in a bed, right? It also wasn’t all that old and so we just went with it.
Time passed and the frame started getting squeaky. Every time one of us rolled over, we woke the other person up, but that was kind of ok because the thing had lost so much support that when someone moved even slightly, the other person was almost sent flying out of bed and so the squeaking was a nice little heads up to hang on. Finally we said forget it and got rid of the frame and just left the mattress and box springs on the floor. We had every intention to replace the frame right away, but then stuff would come up and the kids would need shots, or food, or whatever, and we just never got around to it.
Then a few weeks ago I started thinking, “Could we be anymore white trash?” When I realized the answer was “no,” I told Mike that we HAD to get a new bed. I didn’t care what the cost. If it meant selling a kidney on Ebay, I was going to do it. Luckily it didn’t come to that because I found some fantastic deals over the Memorial Day holiday weekend and VIOLA…A brand new mattress AND bed; headboard, footboard, and everything. We’re like real, live grown ups now.
But the bed is just one thing on the list of many, many items that have had their time in the sun. It seems like just about every day I come across something else that is begging to be put down. That is why I feel that every so many years a married couple should be entitled to throw themselves another shower. I just so happen to believe that seven years is the perfect interval to whip up such a shin dig. Think about it, five years doesn’t seem like a tremendously long time to hang in there, and ten years is a real milestone worthy of celebrating. So it seems only logical that every seven years is the way to go.
I think I may be really on to something here. You may consider this your official invitation to our Seven Year Wedding Shower, or Way to Hang in There and Deal with Each Other’s Crap Shower. Err, on second thought, maybe the word “crap” shouldn’t be a word that gets written out in fancy writing on a cake. I think we’ll go with Seven Year Shower, cause we’re classy and stuff.
The story that I am about to tell you is real. The names of the characters have NOT been changed, as they have caused me so much mental anguish over the last two weeks that I am going to out them like a snotty five year old who didn’t get her way at recess. And so it goes a little something like this…
A week and four days ago, I scheduled Aaron to see his pediatrician to discuss the fact that he is still having throat issues and sometimes his voice gets really hoarse. I love his pediatrician. There is no one out there like this guy. I would believe that monkeys can fly if he told me that they could because he knows THAT much about EVERYTHING. He’s awesome.
Anyway…
He agreed that this has been going on for too long now and that we need to treat it. His best guess is that Aaron has reflux and he wasn’t surprised that the barium swallow test that he had done back in March didn’t show this because it isn’t something that happens every time that a person eats and so the chance of actually catching it during the test is rare. He prescribed Prevacid, told me to give it two months, and then take him off of it. If it goes away then yippee, and if not then he may just have to be on the antacid for a while, no biggie. We walked out of the office, prescription in hand, happy with another successful visit with Dr. All-Knowing.
This was a Wednesday.
Now here’s where things start to go downhill. The next day I took the prescription down to our local Wal Mart pharmacy to have it filled. We dropped it off at the drive-thru and went across the street to have an ice cream cone while we waited. A half an hour later, we used about half a pack of baby wipes to get Elyse to a state that I could actually put her back in the van without getting ice cream all over the place and we skipped back over to Wal Mart to get the prescription.
Me: (Pushed the little call button in the drive-thru)
Pharmacy Lady: Can I help you?
Me: Yeah, I’m picking up a prescription for Aaron.
Pharmacy Lady: Birth date?
Me: 1/11/05
Pharmacy Lady: Ok, that’ll be one hundred and something or other dollars.
Me: Um, oh no it won’t.
Our insurance doesn’t cover name brands, so I asked if there was a generic available. Pharmacy Lady went to check and when she came back she said that there was a generic, but it was a pill that Aaron would have to swallow. It doesn’t dissolve like the Prevacid would have. So I told her to disregard that prescription and that I would have to call the doctor’s office for something else.
And so I did.
At the end of the day on Friday, I got a call from the pediatrician’s office and the girl told me that she called in a new prescription. Everything was taken care of. Great! We were super busy that Saturday, so we didn’t make it to Wal Mart until Sunday, Father’s Day. The fact that it was Father’s Day has absolutely no significance to the story, but I thought I would mention it anyhow. Mike and Aaron went to get the prescription while I took Elyse to pick out bedding for her big girl bed. Yes, we finally made the transition to put Elyse into a toddler bed, but that is a whole other story in itself.
So Mike and Aaron found Elyse and me and said that the pharmacy didn’t have anything for Aaron. Well what the crap? The girl said on Friday that everything was taken care of. I guess I am going to have to call the doctor…AGAIN!
But I didn’t call on Monday because we had an out of town trip to the zoo planned. So first thing Tuesday morning I made the call…again…because calling the doctor every other day is my idea of a good time. I nicely explained that there must be some kind of miscommunication because the pharmacy doesn’t have the prescription. She was super nice and said that she would take care of it and call me right back. I took the kids to bible camp and waited for the call.
Right at 10:00 AM I got the call that all was right with the world and Wal Mart now had the prescription. I stood up and shouted, “Halleluiah!!” and since I was at bible camp, I got a rousing, “Amen!!”
Now, even though the nice lady said that Wal Mart had the prescription and everything was taken care of, I was a bit skeptical. So before I made yet another trek for medication that wasn’t there I called Wal Mart to confirm that there was in fact something there with Aaron’s name on it waiting to be picked up.
Me: Hi, I just wanted to check to see if you had a prescription for my son Aaron. His doctor’s office was supposed to have called it in this morning.
Pharmacy Lady #2: Birth date?
Me: 1/11/05
Pharmacy Lady #2: Yes, we have it. You can come down to pick it up.
Me: Praise be to God! (I was apparently still over-flowing with the Spirit from bible camp.)
So we journeyed back down to Wal Mart AGAIN to get the medication. FYI: At this point a whole week has passed since the initial doctor’s appointment where we were given the illusive prescription. We pulled into the drive thru…
Me: (Pushed the little call button in the drive-thru)
Pharmacy Lady #3: Can I help you?
Me: Yeah, I’m picking up a prescription for Aaron.
Pharmacy Lady#3: Birth date?
Me: -SIGH- 1/11/05
Pharmacy Lady #3: I’m sorry, but we don’t have anything for him.
Me: You have GOT to be kidding me. I JUST spoke with someone here not twenty minutes ago who said that it was ready and in the words of my beloved Bob Barker, I could “come on down.”
Pharmacy Lady #3: Well, what’s the birth date again?
Me: Son of a…1/11/05
Pharmacy Lady #3: No, I’m sorry.
Now I know that she is just screwing with me and that she DOES have a prescription with Aaron’s name on it, but the birth date must have been called in wrong. So I asked if by some chance the office gave Elyse’s birth date by mistake and I gave her that date, but she acted like I was requesting top secret military plans for an alien research facility in Roswell, New Mexico, and refused to say anything except that she didn’t have anything for Aaron.
So now it is sweltering outside and I had shut the van off so that I wouldn’t waste gas while dealing with this lady. We were sitting there with no air conditioning and I am just about to loose my marbles. Sweat is starting to drip down my back and the kids are torturing each other with another swell edition of Not Touching, Can’t Get Mad and Here, Hold My Booger. I calmly explained to Pharmacy Lady #3 that she could go do whatever she had to do, but that I was going to sit in that drive-thru to call the doctor and get everything worked out.
Again, the girl at the pediatrician’s office was very nice and said that she would get Wal Mart right on the line while I was on hold to straighten everything out once and for all.
And so I’m holding…
Then she comes back on the line and says that the birth date was wrong (Um, yeah!) and now everything is good. Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it.
Me: (Pushed the little call button in the drive-thru)
Pharmacy Lady #3: Can I help you?
Me: Yeah, I’m picking up a prescription for Aaron.
Pharmacy Lady #3: Birth date?
Me: (shaking from the amount of force it is taking to not reach through that little speaker and choke the ever living crap out of this lady) 1…..11….05.
Pharmacy Lady #3: Ok, well did you just call it in cause it takes a half an hour for drive-thru orders?
Me: You JUST talked to the doctor’s office. Everything is supposed to be taken care of and….
Pharmacy Lady #3: Ok Honey, let me go see. (long pause) Ok, well like I said, it takes a half an hour for drive-thru orders and you can’t wait in the drive-thru because someone else might need to get a prescription.
Me: (deep cleansing breath. In with the good, out with the bad…) I will have my husband get it on his way home.
You would think that that was the end of the story. You would think that Mike went to get the prescription and that the world was all rainbows and sunshine again, but I’m not done yet. On the drive home, I started wondering if the new prescription was something that would dissolve or if it was another pill and we would have to go through the dance of the insane prescription ordeal all over again. So, with a deep breath, I called Wal Mart.
This time I got some guy who I had never spoken to which was odd because I was pretty sure that over the course of the last week that I had had some kind of contact with just about everyone employed at the Wal Mart pharmacy. When I asked him if this new medication was something that would dissolve he said…Can you guess what he said? Come on, guess. No really, this will be fun.
He said that it does NOT dissolve and that the only thing that does dissolve is the Prevacid…which was the first prescription that we tried to get…which costs over a hundred dollars…because our insurance sucks AND the universe hates me.
Long story short (too late) after another call to the pediatrician, Aaron was prescribed a new medication in liquid form. There is a liquid antacid available. Tee hee, hee… we could have avoided this entire mess… Ha, ha, ha, if Dr. All-Knowing had just prescribed this liquid from the start. Hah, ha, ha, haaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh, that’s a good one. Oh that’s rich. Hold on, I can’t breath. Wait. Give me a second to compose myself….
I made this kitty for my friend Leslie's daughter for her 6th birthday. Isn't she cute! This was another pattern from Barbara Prime's Fuzzy Mitten book and as always, I thought it turned out better than I expected. Aaron has put in a request for a turtle so I guess I better get to work on my next project.
This week, the kids are taking part in the bible camp at our church. They have been having a blast and are coming home completely exhausted (Yippee). At the last minute I even decided to let Elyse give it a try despite the fact that she is typically a complete maniac at these kinds of things; under the condition that I would stay with her to monitor her behavior. She has been fantastic for the most part, but there is this kid who I think could benefit from having one of his family members sticking around to keep an eye on him.
I noticed this kid on Tuesday. Almost as soon as he walked in the door he zeroed in on Elyse and came after the baby doll that she was carrying around. When she wouldn’t let it go, he smacked her on the arm and ran away. Later on when ever he was around her, he would either push her, or elbow her, or even just touch her because he knew that it was making her mad.
Today, I had a very difficult time restraining myself from taking that little pain in the ass sweet little scamp and having a nice long chat about how every time you are mean to someone, you kill Santa just a little bit. If he was anywhere near Elyse, he was pushing her. When we were in music class he was all in her face and elbowed her every time that he ran by. Elyse’s little buddy was also a target for this bully and he was constantly pulling her ponytail and grabbing her around the neck. I told the kid nicely several times to knock it the hell off, not in so many words of course, but he just glared at me with his evil little, “I don’t give two craps about what you have to say,” kind of sneer and ran off to torture someone else until he thought that I wasn’t looking again.
I am not sure that I will have so much restraint tomorrow. If one of my kids were acting like this I would want to know immediately so that I could inflict a punishment so swift and severe that they would never think to lay a hand on another child ever again. It appears that it is his grandmother who drops him off every morning and I would just LOVE to mention to her that this kid seems to have some difficulty keeping his hands to himself, but I can tell that her response would be along the lines of, “Not my precious shnookums.”
Granted, this kid is probably about three and a half. Yes he is young. I get that, but that doesn’t mean that he should be allowed to terrorized the entire bible camp because he is a little on the young side. It is definitely not my job or even my place to correct this child, but when you mess with my kid, you mess with me and Homey don’t play that.
I just think that if your child has trouble behaving then you should make an effort to be there to monitor their behavior. If you can’t stay with them, then maybe they don’t belong there. I wanted Elyse to have the opportunity to participate in this camp, but not at the expense of the other kids or the adults who are running the show. I don’t expect anyone to have to chase after Elyse because she is a little on the young side. That is why I am sticking around everyday.
Whew, I feel better. Maybe that will give me the strength to hold back for anther two days. If not, I will post the story of what happened from my jail cell. Prison has Wi-Fi right?
I have been a stay-at-home wife and mother since my son Aaron was born in January of 2005. I thought that life was crazy then until my daughter Elyse rounded out our family in June of 2008. Crazy only begins to scratch the surface.
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