Worst. Week. Ever.

  I was going to write earlier this week but I am soooooooo glad I didn’t! It would’ve been the most depressing, life-sucking post you would have ever read. And then you would never come back to my blog again. I’ve been sick. And miserable. And really REALLY sick of being miserable.



    Saturday, my throat started hurting, and by Monday, I had a full-on mash up of yuckiness. My throat was in so much pain it hurt to breathe, and I couldn’t even breathe through my nose. And my ears were so stuffed up that it made me feel dizzy non-stop. And of course, I get sick on the week that Barry only gets one day off, and has to sleep peacefully during the day as I struggle to be a sick mother. We just can’t get a break, can we Mothers?


    So, I’d have to say I get negative points on the “Good Mother” score board. I feel so disappointed in myself, I found myself yelling constantly, which was made even worse by the screechy cackling witch voice my sore throat created.


    On Tuesday, I got the kids their breakfast, turned on a movie and went back to bed. A few minutes later, Grayson pounded on the bedroom door, shouting, “Mommy! Jaye went poop!” I sprung to the doorway, and found Jaye standing there holding up her sweet little hands, covered in… you know. Grayson led me down the hallway and pointed at the smeared mess all over the floor. (Jaye decided to take off her diaper… and THEN do her business.)


     The sight was so overwhelming I just threw Jaye in the bath tub and sat on the floor beside her sobbing. Grayson was so concerned he went and woke up Daddy, saying, “Daddy, Mommy is crying!” I yelled at him to leave Daddy alone. Grayson then asked why I was crying. I didn’t know what to say so I just said, “Mommy doesn’t feel well.”


     A few minutes later, Grayson came back in the bathroom carrying my medicine. I snapped at him because he knows NOT to touch any of our medicines. And he looked at me with the saddest eyes and said, “It’s for you, Mommy. To help you feel better.”


    I gave my sweet child the biggest hug I could muster, and started sobbing again.


    Like I said, SERIOUSLY NEGATIVE POINTS on the “Good Mother scale”. When I feel better, I’m going to work on fixing that!

Third time's the charm

   When we first moved to Carlsbad, I was called to be the Sunbeams teacher. A few months after that, I was called to be a mother. I was so sick I hardly ever made it to church, and when I was feeling up to going, I was wishing I felt sick. My class was awful, although I’m sure it was the hormones blinding my judgment. I would get into the car after church and sincerely tell my husband that I was going to be a horrible mother because Sunbeams made me realize that I hated children.



     One day during class, one of the more “loveable” rugrats told me he knew sign language. I watched as the child signed “I love you” to me and my heart melted. “You love me?” I asked, my voice shaky with emotion. He rolled his eyes as he said “no!” and then signed his message again. “I said, I don’t love you!”


   The dimpled fingers of this tiny little three-year-old made me cry. A lot. Then I asked to get released. (More for my horrible, non-stopping illness, though!)


     I was relieved to learn a few months later that I didn’t really hate kids, but I always cringe (and laugh) when I think about Sunbeams. It has been a little joke between me and my husband. Three years later, last Sunday, I was asked (extremely last minute, as in, as class was starting) to sub for the Sunbeams class. This class isn’t known for the best-behaved children (I would know, Grayson is now in there), but I agreed to take on the task.


     The lesson was about appreciating our sense of taste and smell: easy peasy. I thought I was doing an excellent job with my spur-of-the-moment lesson. I drew a large oval on a sheet of paper for each child and asked them to draw a face on the oval, and to remember to be grateful for our noses and mouth.


    One little girl reached for a crayon and said, “I’m going to draw a frown on mine.”


   “A frown?” I asked. “Why are you going to draw a frown?”


    The little girl looked at me and earnestly said, “Because it doesn’t like you.”


     Memories of a little boy signing to me came rushing back. I started laughing at the fact that a whole new generation of sunbeams acted the same way. I must just have naturally bad rapport with three-year-olds. But the point of my story is: I didn’t break down and cry in front of these little “angels”. And that just goes to show you how FANTASTIC this pregnancy has been for me!

What a goofball!

These are just a few of the silly things Grayson has said recently:


*His preschool has been doing a Jungle-themed lesson plan for the last six weeks. At the end of the six weeks, they watched “The Jungle Book”. When we picked Grayson up from preschool I asked, “Did you watch a movie today? What was it?”


Grayson said, “I don’t know. It was about a bear and boy in his underwear.”




*Our fam was getting ice-cream at a little parlor in town. A guy was leaving the store so Grayson popped up and held the door open for him. The man said, “Thank you, Sir.” Grayson ran over to Barry and said, “He called me, sir! I’m not Sir!” Then he ran back to the doorway and shouted to the guy who was getting into his car, “Hey, You can’t say those words!”


(Barry tried to explain that all men are “Sirs” and all women are “Ma’ams”. )




*Grayson announced that he was thirsty, but wanted “the green drink” (Kool-aid). We were out of the green drink so Barry ran off his list of options from the fridge, but our son was very disappointed. Barry said, “maybe we can find something in the pantry,” and skeptically went on a search. He came out with a packet of Kool-aid and showed it to Gray. Grayson just smiled and said, “See Daddy, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

The most bizzare blog I've ever written

     I will try to write this as tastefully as possible, but it is just so funny I had to share! If it offends, I apologize. But, Jaye has a brother and Daddy and her concept of going to the bathroom has come from them. Now, Jaye has an “outtie” bellybutton. I guess to her, it resembles… well, “guy parts”.  Whenever anyone mentions the word “potty”, Jaye runs to the bathroom, lifts up her shirt and holds her bellybutton over the toilet. She will stand there for a minute or two, and just “go potty”.  

It. Is. Hilarious.

                         Now, here is a new one. She is actually wiping! haha

                 I hope potty-training isn't confusing for her!

Medical short stories

1)    About a month ago, my son’s finger happened to be in the way of a very heavy door. He smashed his fingernail, and for the past month we have watched as his nail turned to a very unsightly bluish-purple. Yesterday, it finally fell off, to the complete shock of my son. He cried, and begged for a band aid. Dr. Dad administered the bandage, but every once in a while he notices, “hey, my finger kind of hurts,” and gets upset again. Today, as we were sitting down to dinner, Grayson noticed his finger was hurting and began to do that in between whining and crying sound. We told him that we would pray for his finger to feel better, and he immediately folded his arms in faith. Dr. Dad gave the prayer, and as soon as we said amen, Grayson looked at us bewildered, and said, “it still hurts!”



I think I know what the next topic of family home evening will be…





2)  Since Grayson associates doctors with being sick, he calls Dr. Pepper: Sick Soda. We've tried to explain that Dr. Pepper doesn't have anything to do with being sick, but you know how kids and their little imaginations are.

   Barry came down with the stomach flu this weekend. Today he sadly explained to the kids why he wouldn’t be joining us for church, he wasn’t feeling well. As I was driving the kiddos to church, Grayson said, “Mommy, Daddy was naughty.”


Of course I asked, “why?”


“Because he drank sick soda, and now he’s not feeling well.”

What do you say to that?

One of those days....

    Today we were scheduled to get Easter pictures of the kiddos at Walmart. Since I was going alone (BRAVE SOUL I AM!), Barry sat Grayson down and told him if he was good for pictures, Mommy would buy him a toy (Bribery- the best parenting). So we got to the studio, and Grayson was AWESOME! INCREDIB LE! He was adorable in every picture, a perfect smile, a little studmuffin. He even got Jaye to smile for her only smiling picture. I was so proud I couldn’t wait to go to the toy section.



And then…


    He had to go potty... right as I sat down with the photographer to edit the photos and choose my prints. The photographer stayed with Jaye while I ran him to the bathroom. Now, Grayson is at that age where he is mortified to use the Girl’s bathroom because… it’s for girls. As he noticed I was tugging him past the boy’s bathroom, he dropped to his knees and started whining, “I don’t want to go to the girls bathroom! It’s for girls!” I had to drag him in and he started wailing. I ripped down his pants and sat him on the toilet and explained that I couldn’t send him in alone to the boys bathroom when there were strangers there, it could be scary. I’m pretty sure he didn’t hear a word I said through the sobs, but all the women using ALL the other stalls sure heard me. Finally, after two or so minutes of coercion, I got fed up and said, “Your only other choice is to hold it until we get home. What do you want to do?”


    At this time, I think his body decided what it wanted to do. He peed. All. Over. The. Place. He just kept going, all the while bawling his head off, while I’m shouting at him to get it in the toilet. Those poor women got quite the entertainment, but we still had to go back and order the darned pictures. I told Grayson that he would just have to sit in his wet pants (wow, this makes me sound kind of terrible), while I ordered pictures. So, I sat him in the basket next to the computer and he cried for about ten minutes while the dang lady tried to sell me the most outrageously expensive photo packages they offer. Grayson stood up and started pulling off his underwear… in front of everyone. Luckily I remembered I had a pull-up in the diaper bag. So, my son sat happily in the basket wearing a green dress shirt, vest, tie, and pull-up. That’s it.


    As I was paying for the pictures and apologizing to the woman, Grayson tugged on my shirt and asked, “Can we go get a toy now?”


It was a long… loud… tearful… drive home.

Ricks: The Musical

I have a habit of turning everything I do into song. Tonight, I was trying to get the kiddos in bed and started singing:

“It’s time for bed, so come on get in bed!
It’s time for bed, come on you sleepy head!”


While I was repeating my "part", Grayson unexpectedly started marching around with his toys singing (the same notes I was!):
“I can’t, I can’t do that.
I can’t, I can’t do that!
I can’t go to bed!”


It was like I was living in a REAL musical where people randomly break out into the same song! It was the perfect moment.


Now if I could just get him to sing different lyrics, like: “Yes Mommy, I listen to everything you say…”