The Desperate Housewives of MP

I spend a lot of time talking about my kids on this blog, but today I want to discuss a subject that's close to my heart.

Desperate. Housewives.

Not the show-the actual desperate housewives.

Some days, especially when I'm waiting outside for the bus, I feel like a mom. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely, totally and completely love being a mom. When my son was born I felt I knew what my purpose was, and when Lily was born I felt complete. However, when I'm driving to the bank in my van, with the DVD player down, wearing yesterdays jeans, sporting a ponytail (or braid), and t-shirt (usually with milk or yogurt on it), I feel like a mommy.

Is that it? Cleaning, laundry, grocery store, bank, cooking, playing, etc. This morning when Logan was getting ready for school, I felt like a short order cook and waitress. Juice, breastfeed, banana, yogurt, more juice, yogurt, napkin, yogurt, wipe face, yogurt.... Between the two kids, I was exhausted by 7am!

And as I walked outside with unkempt hair, capri pants (that are one size too big) and an old maternity shirt, I thought to myself "I look like a Mom."

I'm not satisfied with the way I look- AT ALL. In fact, I have levels of sweat pants (sad, I know). There's bleach stained (cleaning sweat pants), around the house house, and dressy.

*Sigh*

SO, I've concluded that I am going to spend a little more time on myself. I plan on working out (to feel better and lose weight), getting a stylish hair cut (and actually doing it) and getting some new clothes. While I'm not at a weight I'm completly satisfied with, I need to get a couple outfits I can wear now that fit and make me feel better about myself.

I think spending a little time on myself will make me a better Mom.

Not Me! Monday

This is a therapeutic way of admitting I'm not super mom started by the talented MckMama. Check out her blog to find out what others haven't been up to the week..

This week I didn't hide in the laundry room and drink an ice cold coke. And I certainly didn't let out a fake cough when I opened the can to make sure my sweet young boy didn't hear that distinct can pop.

I also would never have washed a load of laundry, for got about it, washed it again, for got AGAIN, and wash it one more time. I would never be too busy to have to wash one load of laundry three times... I mean that's just not sane!

And never would I go outside at dusk with kids to play knowing that's the best time to get eaten alive by mosquitoes. And after that wild evening, I didn't get about 20 mosquito bites. And I completely learned my lesson and did not go outside the next day and get about 15-20 more... and if I did get a million-I mean- a couple bites I am not itching them like crazy. I know the less you itch, the faster they heal.

And lastly, I would never have forgotten about a tiny tiny piece of bread that did not fall out of my car and onto my garage floor. And that said piece of bread was not covered in sugar ants the next day... and I didn't spray those ants with Spot Shot (a carpet cleaner) to blow them away (literally).

Now if you'll excuse me, I don't have some chores to do.

All Through the Town

The wheels on the bus go...

All through the town.

Or at least it feels that way!

Logan's first official day of school was 10/15, and because the bus wasn't scheduled in our area yet, I drove him and picked him up until the school district called me with the bus details.

Well, Wednesday was his first ride on the bus, and it went...well, as expected.

We were waiting in our front yard (yes we have a front door pick up-VERY rare, but very gooooood) playing, laughing, and talking. He was in high spirits, and was mildly excited to go to school. He told me about his friends, and teachers...

And then we heard it. Screeching around the corner came the biggest, baddest, scariest monster. It reached out it's arm and grabbed my son. As he was screaming "NO MOMMY NO MOMMY NO MOMMY" over and over and over again, this monster laughed and said "we're not coming back. Kiss him good bye FOR-EV-ER. Wah-ha-ha-ha-ha."

Okay, it didn't really go like that.

What really happened when that monster, aka the bus, came around the corner, Logan was excited. He loves all things with 4 or more wheels, and he's always been intrigued by buses. The bus stopped, and he climbed on in!

The bus driver introduced herself to me, and informed me that they were a mother/daughter team (the TPK bus has an aide on it). You could see the love that radiated from their faces. I felt as if Logan was climbing onto a bus with his Grandmother. They're both grandma's and have been driving buses for 22 years (that's almost as old as me!), so I felt very comfortable.

However, once Logan realized I wasn't going to be riding the bus with him, he got VERY upset. I reached out his hand, and looked at me with this disgusted look of betrayal... as if I had hurt his brand new puppy.

I left him, and ran in the house.

I. Felt. Terrible.

That was worse then his first day of school. I just kept repeating to myself (out loud, in a very soft voice) "it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts". and I started to tear up (not cry...tear up).

I climbed in the shower, as if to wash away some of the pain I was feeling. I wanted it off of me. I wanted the physical pain off me and down the drain.

I took a deep breath, and tried to forget about the time.

But I couldn't.

I really couldn't.

I thought about Logan in school, eating lunch, playing outside, napping. Wondering what he was doing each minute of the day.

Then, at 3 I sat outside waiting for him to come home.

As each minute passed, I more and more worried. "Was he okay, is the bus driver having to deal with a melt down, did he nap, did he eat, how did he do getting back on the bus..."

As the clock hit 3.40 I began to panic. "Maybe she got lost. If they're not here in 4 minutes, I'm calling the school."

And there it was. 3.43pm. The big yellow monster came screeching around the cornor to drop off my little monster.

And he did great.

The driver said he was an angel! Then asked me why he was being bused all the way to (xyz) school. I told her because of his developmental delays. And she said, "He doesn't sound delayed to me."

And my heart skipped a beat. He doesn't sound delayed to her... praise the Lord in Heaven.

Father, I know you hear my prayers, and I know You know my son. Watch him, Lord, when I can't. Hold him, Lord, when I can't.

I won't let you fall, Logan. I won't let you fall.

It tastes like sausage

He's already making progress, and it's only been ONE. WEEK.

I am truly amazed at the strength of my son. He started school- full time- and he's riding the bus (I'll blog about that later). What an awesome little man I have :)

He came home today, and sat down for dinner ( I know 4pm is early for dinner, but he's starving when he comes home). I made fancy sloppy joes (no bread), with rice and peas and salad. He also ate the left over rice noodles from the night before-I told you he's starving when he comes home.

So as always, I make him wash his hands before dinner (especailly when he's just come off the bus), but he wasn't having walking all-the-way (6 feet) to the bathroom. So, I just gave him some hand sanintizer I keep in the kitchen. As he's "washing", he starts singing a song about washing hands, and "be sure to wash the tops." UN-BE-LIEVEABLE!

Then, while he was eating he said "Mmmmm. This tastes like sauce-age." (It took me a couple seconds to figure out what he was saying, cause I wasn't sure if my ears were failing me or not-my son dosen't know the word sausage).

I said, "It tastes like_what?"

"SAUCE-AGE"

I was like, okay then.

wait, there's more.

Then, he walks over to the white board, picks up a dry erase marker and says "down, across" HE WROTE THE LETTER L. The letter L. I've been working on that for WEEKS, and he's in school 4 days and now he can write it! But that's not all. He can write L, AND O.

Then, he picked up a picture he colored, brought it over to me (as I'm writing this blog) and says "Look Mommy, I colored this with a crayon. A purple crayon."

I-AM-SHOCKED.

And last, but certainly not least, he hands me a piece of lettuce (a piece he rejected) and put it in my mouth, and said "swallow it, swallow it, swallow it" in a high pitched teaching voice. And when he saw that I did in fact swallow it, he cheered "yay, good swallowing Mommy".

I am a good swallower! And, by the way my pants fit, I think I've been swallowing pretty good for quite some time now.

I need to go now, cause he's writing his letters, and I need to cheer him on!

"Down. Across." "Down. Across." "Down. Across." "Down. Across."

Saved by the Bell

Logan had his first day of school last week! On Thursday, October 15, we made a leap of faith and dropped off our big boy at his first day of TPK- Therapeutic Pre Kindergarten.

Our morning started great. Logan woke up in high spirits, and was excited to "leave the house"... or so he thought.

When we left our house, I started to tear up. I thought about all those days I wasted complaining and not soaking him up. All the times I "wanted a minute alone" or was frustrated over his rituals. All that time. Gone. Like the blink of an eye. Gone.

I realized that today was the first day of his academic career, and that my sweet baby boy that I held in my arms just 4 short years ago, was growing up.

That was the longest drive of my life. The school is about 35 minutes from my house, so as I drove I thought a lot. I took a deep breath and remembered how I breathed him in on October 14 at 5.01 pm. The way he gazed at me with those goopy eyes, and how it felt to hold a life in my arms. When he was born, I was very ill, and can disticntly recall that day. When Dr. G showed me my little boy, and he started SCREAMING I thought to myself "I should be crying now". And when then they placed him on my chest (very breifly- only for a picture... that's how sick I was) I thought "He's going to fall, please, take him, HE'S GOING TO FALL". Looking at the pictures now, you can clearly see that the nurse was holding him and had placed him on my chest for a picture.

As we pull into the school, my heart sinks deep into my chest and I can feel my blood pulsating through my veins. I've been looking so forward to this day, and now it's here. All I wanted was one. more. day. But it was too late.

We parked the car, made a call (to the Grandmothers-for blessings of course) and walked to the teacher.

He said "Mommy, I'm very sick. We can't go to school."

I replied, "You're going to be great Logan. I love you, and I'll see you soon."

I gave him a kiss. And left. Like that day, four years ago, I thought "I should be crying now". But I didn't. I was sad, yes. But his time had come, and I was happy.

When I returned the teacher said he did GREAT! I was so happy that the day was over, and he was safe.

One day down. Fourteen years to go.

I won't let you fall, Logan. I won't let you fall.

Not Me! Monday

If you're not the perfect Mom, then Not Me! Monday is for you. It's a trend started by the talented MckMama.

Here is what I did not do this past week.

I certainly did not get ready for Logan's fourth birthday celebration by shoving anything that was out of place in the laundry room, or my bathroom. An organized Mom, such as myself, would never let anything like that happen.

I then definitely did not instruct my guest to help me as they were walking in the door, because I had it all together and was completely ready for everyone to arrive.

I also, did not leave ALL the dishes to do the next day, that is just crazy! I would never do something like that... I always do all my dishes and laundry as soon as they're dirty, any other way is just despicable!

Earlier in the week, I certainly didn't procrastinate on my paper for school AND I wasn't writing it while eating a bowl of delicious salt and vinegar chips (did I mention the paper wasn't for my Nutrition class?).

And lastly, I did not let my daughter hold the bowl of avocado after she was done eating, knowing full well she wasn't going lick it clean.

Head over to MckMama's blog to find out what others haven't been doing!

Happy Birthday Logan

Happy Birthday my sweet boy! Your short life has taught me so much, you're my inspiration.

I Love You more than you'll ever know.