Smashing Pumpkins

I love the Fall. The changing colors, the cool weather, the pumpkin picking. Brian and I took the kids to a farm this past weekend out in the middle of nowhere called Connor's A-maizing Acres. Oh, those crazy farmers and their play on words.

For the most part Bodhi slept, but Maddox enjoyed himself pretty well. He terrorized the ducks and the goats. I got in a good laugh when he rode the Moo Cow tractor with Daddy. It was a bunch of oil barrels cut open and painted to resemble cows and then pulled behind a tractor. Yee ha! The kids loved it but the Daddies had to bend into these things like Gumbi. I saw many men limping away from the moo train. Funny thing about the moo train ride at that place- they only want you to ride once. You try telling that to a two year old. Yeah, first of all you have to get off the moo train and then after the tantrum that ensues following that conversation you get to tell the kids they don't get to ride the damn moo train again. Bastards. I will pay extra to ride that frikkin uncomfortable thing again! And not because I love the smell of diesel tractor exhaust either. But because otherwise your ducks arent going to have a feather left. Its your choice people!

So we terrorized the animals, rode the train, and abused as many pumpkins that we could. By the end of the day Maddox was super tired. On the way out they had an area set up to sell the pumpkins and a photo op. Ours was the kid chucking the mini pumpkins, throwing himself in the dirt and screaming for the family photo op. Good times, good times.

Don't get me wrong- I was trying to stop him from damaging the farm property, but that is not going to prevent me from taking pictures of the meltdown as it happens. Hey, I took pics of the happy times, I should be able to record the freak out too. Yes, we were those irresponsible parents snapping photos of our kid as he writhed around on the ground and laughing as he had to be carried away from the farm like a sack of potatoes. Hey, we were tired too! And what are you going to do other than laugh at that point?

Kiddo-chondria part deux

So it seems my kiddo-chondria knows no bounds. At least that is according to my husband. My latest obsession is about Bodhi's head. Or rather the shape of it. There is a flatness on one side and I swear her head comes to a point! My husband says he doesn't see it. I feel that this is one of his well known tactics to make me feel insane. Seriously, it is very obvious that her head does come to a point. I have tried to make sure I alternate laying her down on her right and left side to avoid the flatness. I admit I have even snuck in her room in the night and flipped her head while she sleeps! But how the hell do you avoid a pointy noggin?

I don't care what Brian says, I am going to mention this to the doctor at her 4 month checkup. I mean...could this be a sign there is something wrong? I once saw this television program on the Discovery channel about a baby who's fontanel fused together and had to have surgery on his cranium! I wonder what his symptoms were...

Note- Brian has since tried to ban me from watching Discovery channel ever again.

This does not stop me from wondering if I will be that mother with the kid wearing the giant round helmet? Ah, let people go ahead and stare! At least my baby's head will be round! Brian says that I shouldn't worry. That the shape of her head is going to change and any irregularities I imagine will go away the older she gets- whatever, his head comes to a point! I am still asking the doctor....

Corporate Kari

I haven't showered in a couple of days. I am sporting a hair do reminiscent of Flock of Seagulls and I am still in my jammies at noon. There is a large pile of laundry on my dining room table and a toy garbage truck in my refrigerator. I'm not really sure what it is doing there- but my two and a half year old assures me it has to park there to get the garbage and who am I to argue with that logic.

I used to be a problem solver, a multitasker. I used to be corporate Kari. The girl who got things done. The one people came to if there was a problem. I used to have a staff of six and my own private office. Now I'm the staff and I am lucky if I get to pee in private.

I used to drop hundreds of dollars on a pair of gorgeous Charles David boots. Now I don't have anywhere to wear those boots and my feet wont fit into those babies because they are flat. Flat from wearing flip flops day in and day out. I realized the other day that I haven't worn anything but flip flops for 2 years and counting.... What Not To Wear would have a field day with me.

On rainy Sunday's I used to go to the movies by myself. Now a rainy Sunday is a crazed circus of play dough, crayons, paints and projects to keep the cabin fever at a minimum. I haven't seen a movie in the theater since....well, I can't remember the last movie I saw. Huh, must not have been that good.

I used to think that I knew how much my parents loved me. Now that I have kids I know I was clueless. Funny. All the things I used to be obsessed with and thought I couldn't be happy without just don't seem all that important. Although, I do kinda miss those boots :)

Chip anyone?

It is the end of another long but wonderful day. Brian and I took the kids to St Augustine, where we proceeded to wear them out with lots of walking and plenty of fresh air. As a result we had some crazy and over tired kids on our hands. After much rocking with Bodhi on my part and many stories and cups of water with Maddie on Brian's part we finally have them down to bed. And I have come to the realization that there is no limit to the lengths Brian and I will go to keep from waking these kids up once they are down. I don't know about anyone else but my kids, when overtired, can hear a sharp noise from a mile off. Thus Bathroom Potato Chips were born.

This term came to me as I was lying in bed reading a book this evening after putting those tired little buggers down. Brian entered our bedroom carrying a bag of salt and vinegar Lays potato chips. He crossed to the far side of our room and made to open the bag.
"What are you doing? You had better take those into the bathroom!" I said in all seriousness.
Brian didn't blink an eye but proceeded into our master bath and closed the door where the muffled sounds of the cellophane bag could be heard.

He emerged victorious munching on his chips. We stared at each other and broke out laughing. We are both so tired. Tired enough that we have become so paranoid about waking those kids up we won't even risk opening a bag of chips anywhere near their rooms. Yup, Bathroom Potato Chips. That man crossed the entire house and into our room to open his chips and preserve the bedtime quiet. And if that weren't enough I forced him into the bathroom just in case one of the kids has bionic hearing. But hey they didn't wake up did they. And lets be honest shall we? A nighttime snack just tastes better when there isn't a kid crying all over it, you know?

Kiddo-chondria

I am probably the world's biggest worry wort- call it kid hypochondria if you will. I worry about it all, my husband likes to us the word obsess. One of my biggest worries is if Maddox is getting along socially with other children his age. He certainly has some first child weirdness going on to be sure and that is to be expected right? Having never raised a child I am fully aware that I am going to mess him up somehow. It is how badly I am going to screw with the kid that worries me most. Case in point- a while ago I took Maddox to a place called Pump it Up and released the freak in him for all to see...

Pump it Up is every child's dream come true. A giant warehouse of bouncey castles, bouncey slides, giant balls and bouncey mazes. For $7 a kid gets hours of bouncing fun. Well, that is to say your kid. Not my kid. My kid enters bounce town heaven only to find that there are other children there. The nerve.

Maddox climbs excitedly into the first bounce castle he comes to only to find that sometimes while bouncing with other kids they will bump into you. It is all too much for my freaky lil monkey. If a child so much as brushes against him we have full melt down. Maddox will go with his usual proceedure... there is the full on screaming right in the kid's face. "Ahhhhhhh!" Ah, it is so high pitched. His tongue is sticking out of his head and his face is turning purple. Moms all around the room are now turning to see who is having the meltdown. And they are just in time to see Maddie throw himself face down on the bouncey castle without even trying to break his fall. Oh, the crying that ensues....Now it is time for me to scramble into the bouncey house and wrestle my rigid flailing child out and down the slide so he doesnt hurt the other bouncing kids. You try to do this and keep your dignity- ha!

Note to self: NEVER wear a dress to Pump it Up again. That is if they will let us in again. Hmmmm, I wonder.

So as I send Maddox off to preschool this morning I try to bury my kiddo-chondria and hope that his weirdness to due to a close proximity to me. His teachers have never said anything...please just let it be a weirdness reserved to drive me to madness....

Your karma just ran over my dogma

I have what I affectionately like to call Sister or Jenny Karma. Sure, you've heard of Karma, the cycle of cause and effect. But I bet you have never heard of my particular brand. Jenny Karma is special kind that is reserved just for me and seems to relate exclusively to my life as a mother. It seemingly has no effect on my relationships with my husband, friends or family. Here's how it works: I make a judgement on my sister's parenting skills or methods. Even better I criticize her skills or methods to her face. And without fail I end up in the exact situation with my kids, sometimes worse. Otherwise known as having massive amounts of egg on my face.

A perfect example:
I, a childless auntie at the time, see the trouble my sister is having getting her kids to eat. They are picky eaters and she is at her wits end trying to get them to try different things. So I stupidly, and I am sure smugly, say "When I have children (note: any sentence starting this way should remain unsaid as you are dooming yourself!) they're going to eat everything that I put in front of them. If they don't they will just go hungry, I mean, they're not going to starve to death." My saint of a sister looks at me and just nods. She doesn't say what I would have wanted to say- "Uh, yeah, good luck with that, hope it works out for you."

Ho, ho! Fast forward 3 years or so and enter Maddox Jenkins, my beautiful son. THE pickiest eater the planet has ever know. The child is so stubborn in the eating arena that rather than eat anything other than his chosen favorites he will wait you out. He will not eat anything all day. You think I am kidding? This is no exaggeration- he went one day till 5pm and almost passed out before I finally broke. The point is Jenny Karma bit me back. The list go's on and on of the stupid things I said would never happen with me and my children only to find that the J. Karma slapped me upside the head and hard.

Yesterday was possibly one of the nastiest days I have had with Maddie. I was sick and sleep deprived and he was in a rip roaring mood, screaming at the top of his lungs, biting, kicking the dog and...uggh don't make me relive it...lets just say it was super bad. There was no nap people! And then it hit me. I had done it again. I specifically remember saying to my sister that she needed to be tough on her kids, spankings and such, if they were acting awful. I scoffed when she said that sometimes that just doesn't work and politely told me that some days are just like that with kids.

Ohhhh, you evil Jenny Karma! When will I learn to keep my mouth shut!!! The taste of shoe leather is bitter.

That is one big snake!

My husband is not one to be skittish but the snake he found in our yard a few weeks ago shook him up. He stumbled upon the 3 footer curled up in our flower bed early one evening and came and got me to have a look at the monster. I decided right away that it had to die. Now I am normally not a violent person, especially where animals are concerned, but after looking on the internet at pictures of water mocassins it was just too similar for my liking. There was a good chance that this indeed was a seriously posinous snake and my mind was made up.

Brian and I were on a mission. Like two lil' assassins we made for our weapons of choice. For Brian a flat blade on a long stick that is normally used to take up carpet. For me a shovel. We were ready for battle. Needless to say Maddox thought this was all very exciting. From the safe side of our fence Brian threw his blade thing like a javalin and struck that snake in the midsection. What deadly acquarcy- I was so proud. Well, boy was that snake angry! It started to slither away and lucky for us it was injured and wasnt getting far. Like an idiot I scream "its getting away!" and ran out past the safety of the fence and towards the retreating reptile. Turns out water moccasins are very aggressive. Who knew? So that snake sensing I was after him turned on me and started coming back in my direction. That is when he met with my shovel.

All the while Brian is calling me back from his place behind the fence. He wisely was not venturing out toward the snake. Adrenalin had taken its hold on me and to my frenzied mind it was that snake or my babies. Once the monster had stopped being able to slide away Brian joined me in my furious attempt to beat that snake into oblivion. Oh, the nightmares that followed after the adrenalline had gone. I can't believe how powerful my maternal killer instinct was. Hoo-yah! Just call me G.I. Jane Snake Killer. You don't mess with my babies backyard!