Winter Blues

I hate winter.

I feel like once Christmas and New Year's have come and gone, it really serves no purpose. 

I know that we here in the Pacific Northwest may not exactly have that much of a right to complain, as opposed to those in the midwest who completely get buried by FEET of snow, and are expected to - not only survive - but actually be productive human beings in sub-zero degree temperatures. But, our winter can be just as depressing. When January arrives we are shrouded in a grayness that gets into your very soul. Even though winter days are supposedly "short", they seem to be never-ending, becoming one really long, depressing day.

Every once in awhile we get a bit of a tease with a bright, sunny - albeit cold - day, and everyone starts smiling again, and talking about how we will hopefully have an early spring. But then, just as our optimism and hope begin to come out of hibernation - BAM! We get sneak-attacked by some random snow storm when on the very cusp of springtime.

Really, Weather?! This was uncalled for.

You know when I would love some snow? 


December. 


When I am sitting in my house, drinking hot chocolate, decorating the Christmas tree and listening to holiday music. I would love a nice snowfall as we pack the kids in the car and drive around the neighborhood looking at Christmas lights, (okay, well, technically we could still do this one, and just drive back and forth in front of our black sheep neighbor who HASN'T TAKEN HIS CHRISTMAS LIGHTS DOWN YET. But it's not the same).

I do not enjoy snow when we are four months into this wintry season and the kids have had cabin fever for three months of it. On a normal day we can't go outside to play because things are too wet and cold, and now we can't even just go for a drive somewhere to cheer us all up because this stupid snow has made us prisoners in our own house.

I considered taking the boys out in the snow to play, but the last time we went outside Binker ran for our not-childproofed deck, and Ryan ran straight down the hill in our backyard, coming within inches of the ditch at the bottom. Trying to stay in control of the two of them outside by myself just seemed kind of exhausting to me.

Watching the snow fall

So now we're stuck. I am desperately trying to think of fun, new activities to keep the boys entertained within the confines of our house, but when you're dealing with five minute attention spans, it can be tough. Any suggestions on some things that would keep two toddler boys happy?

Alternately, I am also open to prayers for spring. As far as we're concerned, it can't get here fast enough.

This Was All My Fault

So it's been over a month since I last posted on my blog.  

(I am doing AWESOME at keeping my New Year Goals).

We've been pretty busy though, and it's all my fault. 

It started on a Monday. My mom was accompanying the boys and me on a shopping trip, and I mentioned to her that I couldn't believe we had made it so far through the winter season without anyone needing to go to the doctor. Immediately after that I said, "Knock on wood!" 

In our Toyota, however, there is a shortage of wood. So I just knocked on the plastic dashboard and called it good.

Well, the next day, I noticed Binker wasn't acting like himself. On Tuesday night he woke up screaming three different times, and for the next few days he was just fussy and unhappy. I realized something was definitely wrong when I bought him McDonald's for lunch and he wouldn't even touch it.

Things really came to a head that Friday night at 5pm - of course. Right when the doctor's office closed.

I was hoping we would make it through the weekend, but by Saturday evening we found ourselves with a screaming, fussing toddler, who was impossible to console. It was decided that Sunday morning I would take him to the doctor's office to be checked out.

We showed up only an hour after the walk-in clinic opened, and they were already packed. We got in line, with three people ahead of us. Even though Binker hadn't been to the doctor since September, I think he remembered the place, because as soon as we walked in there, he was screaming, and trying to crawl out of the stroller. He didn't want to read any of the books I brought for him, and he didn't want to sing any songs or play any games. He just wanted OUTTA THERE.

This lovely old man that was standing directly in front of us in line kept turning around to give us dirty looks, as if I could somehow shut Binker up. There were so many things I wanted to say to that guy, like:

"We're not at a library. This is a doctor's office, where people come when they are sick. He is a toddler and he is sick. Take a chill pill!"

"If his screaming is bothering you, then turn off your hearing aid!"

"Stop being a jerk face!"

Once it was finally our turn, we found out what the long wait was for. Apparently our clinic just installed a brand new computer system, which meant that instead of simply being able to check-in, like normal, every single person coming into the clinic had to provide their name, address, insurance information, photo ID, social security number, mom's maiden name, the year they graduated from high school, first pet's name, and favorite color. Then you had to sign three different documents that I really don't remember what they were each for, because the entire time the receptionist was explaining them to me Binker was screaming at the top of his lungs since we had already waited in line for 25 minutes and this woman had been talking to me for another five.

When we were finally checked in, and had been told that it would be AN HOUR WAIT, I looked around the waiting room for a good spot to sit. I was so tempted to go seat ourselves right next to the old man who had been in front of us in line, since he seemed to enjoy Binker's screaming so much. But I resisted.

Instead, we found a quiet corner by ourselves next to the big fish tank. That kept Binker occupied for a total of three minutes. Then we read book after book after book until they thankfully called his name.

Even though the whole waiting process had been a nightmare, the doctor got to our room quickly and it only took him about two seconds to realize that Binker had an ear infection, (almost a double ear infection). I was so relieved to have a diagnosis, I just knew something was wrong with the poor kid.

Binker was NOT happy to have the doctor poking around in his ears, so to make amends he gave Binker two Thomas the Train stickers, which seemed to be an acceptable peace offering. We raced over to the pharmacy afterward, where Binker got two more stickers! You could just see it in his eyes: BEST DAY EVER!

Thankfully, after 10 days of that good old bubblegum-flavored Amoxicillin, (holy cow did the smell bring back memories), Binker's ear infection was all cleared up and he was feeling much better.

I learned an important lesson in all of this: to keep my mouth shut from now on, and hopefully everyone will stay healthy.

Candy and Beer

Husband had a long day at work yesterday.

He got home late, feeling exhausted. He asked if I would go to the store and get him some beer and his favorite candy - blow pops.

I didn't really feel like it, but after a nail-biting competition of Rock, Paper, Scissors, it was decided that I would be the one to go.

So I changed out of my pajamas into real pants and a coat, since it was like 20 degrees outside, and headed to the store.

Now, we live kind of out in the boondocks. The closest actual grocery store is close to ten minutes away, with absolutely nothing in between, aside from empty summer homes and the county dump, so it can feel a lot longer than 10 minutes to get out there. After 5pm we usually aren't in the mood to make that long of a trip, so we typically opt to go to the rural gas station, which is only about two minutes in the opposite direction. 

They have a primitive grocery mart, with the kind of essentials people usually decide they need at about 8pm, like alcohol. And, since they pretty much have a monopoly on the food market for the whole southern half of the island, everything is priced way higher than normal.

The only reason we go there is to buy alcohol and candy; essentials at our house.

It seems like the last few times I have gone, the same guy is always working. And he is always the one who cashiers my purchase of a six pack and 30 blow pops. 

I'm so paranoid that, even though he always smiles and is polite, he must be thinking I am a crazy recluse alcoholic who eats her feelings.

Well, surprise surprise, guess who was working as I walked into the store last night? Mr. Totally Judges Me With His Eyes. 

I smiled and said hello, then quickly made my way to the back of the store. I found the refrigerator with the beer, and grabbed the Mike's Hard Lemonade Husband wanted, (okay, so it's not exactly "beer", but it's like when we're at a restaurant and Husband makes ME order the strawberry daiquiri that HE wants to drink, because he is too embarrassed to order it for himself. If it comes in a bottle and is sold in a six pack, we just call it "beer").

Next, I slowly headed over to the candy aisle, while scanning the check-out counter. To my luck, the guy was nowhere to be seen, and instead a middle-aged woman was checking a customer out. Sweet! This is my chance!

I grabbed as many blow pops as I could, and then a huge handful of watermelon Airheads, because Husband loves those too. I took a look at my pathetic basket. Beer, and a mountain of candy. Oh well, as long as that woman is still cashiering I should be good.

I walked over quickly but the guy was back! Mr. Judgy just popped up out of nowhere. Crap.

I sheepishly handed over my basket, while looking up at the ceiling, and down at the counter - pretty much everywhere except the guy's face.

At that point I couldn't decide which was more awkward: letting him go on assuming I am a lonely alcoholic with a massive sweet tooth, or blurting out, "I'm totally married! This is all for my husband!"

But all the sudden I was distracted by the fact that he had just scanned the beer and DIDN'T ASK FOR MY ID, OMG! I mean, so what if he's sold me alcohol like a dozen other times, he can't at least humor me by asking to see some ID?

So now he is a judgy jerk who thinks I'm old.

I paid for the items, told him I didn't need a receipt - I wasn't looking for any excuse to hang around longer than I had to.

As I was heading out the door, he called to me with a smile on his face, "We'll be seeing you soon, I'm sure."

I wanted to be offended. But it's probably true.

Off and Running

Both of the boys decided to start 2011 off running - literally. But they knew that to do so, they would need proper foot attire.

Binker has learned how to put his own socks on, which he LOVES to do. It doesn't matter if they match, or if they were dirty socks he found in the hamper, he really enjoys putting them on.

Bug has learned how to put shoes on. Usually it's Binker's shoes, since they are bigger, and therefore easier to slip on, but he does it really well! Once he puts the shoes one he runs around the house yelling "Walk! Walk!"

Binker with the socks, and Bug with the shoes, these guys make a great team! I can already imagine what kinds of schemes they will be coming up with, working together behind this Mom's back. 

Binker picks up on every. single. word. Which is awesome - most of the time. 

Not so awesome when he hears not-safe-for-toddler words...which has NEVER happened. 

::Cough cough::

Seriously though, it is so fun being able to talk with him more and more, and watch him form sentences. He is still my big singer, he loved all of the Christmas songs, and he keeps us in the Christmas spirit by continuing to sing "Jingle Bells" and "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer" every day, even though Christmas is over. He also really enjoys "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes". I have been considering bringing my old guitar out of storage to see if he takes to it like he has taken to the piano. I have a feeling he will really like playing on it, he is just a musical kid. 

Bug has taken to singing too, although since he is still working on the whole language thing he can be hard to understand, but I have heard him sing "Twinkle Twinkle", "Skimmery Rinky Dinky Dink" and the "ABC's". He is pretty good at picking up on words too, just yesterday he said "Daddy" for the first time, as opposed to "Dada", and two days ago I took the boys to lunch at McDonald's, and he kept saying "M-no-no"...which I interpreted to be "McDonald's". Trust me, it's totally what he was saying. While he does like to sing now and then, as I mentioned, he is my busy boy, who loves to play chase or toss bouncy balls back and forth. This week he also began dribbling. I can't wait to put him in  basketball, or soccer, or pretty much any sport; I have a feeling he is going to take to it like a fish to water.

Every day I marvel at how big they both seem; they're truly turning into little boys - right before my eyes. It is bittersweet. I look through old photos and I miss their chubby little baby bodies, I miss being able to carry them around in a front pack, and I miss snuggling them when they were much less mobile and all they wanted was to be held. I don't know why time has to go by so fast. 

But, each day brings something new and fun to experience with them, so my focus for 2011 is to try to be as present as I possibly can, each day with them, and soak up every moment and every smile and giggle, since I know it  all goes by too quickly.

I am feeling anxious about their birthdays, I cannot believe Bug will be two and Binker will be three. It really does blow my mind. I am so thankful for my two precious boys, they are more than I ever deserved or dreamed I would have in my children. I am the luckiest mother on earth.

Written while not under the influence of sugar, carbs, alcohol or anything else delicious that is now restricted since it is the new year and I am on a diet.

I have ten blog drafts waiting to be edited. Or discarded.

I have been writing and trying to create something of value, but I don't feel like any of it is worthy of being read.

However, I wanted my readers, (all of six of you), to know that I am alive.

It's been almost two weeks since my last blog post and it has taken me this long to recover from our holiday season of overindulgence. And it was ohhhh so worth it.

Creamy coffees, Swedish pancakes with maple syrup, brown sugar glazed salmon, lemon drops, roasted turkey, mashed potatoes made with cream cheese, peppermint bark, buttered peas, buttered everything! OMG it was spectacular.

But then.

Reality hit. Our pants were feeling tight, and so was our budget. Richard and I decided it was time to get back to eating healthier and watching our spending. Diets aren't fun, and they are doubly un-fun when your debit card goes on a diet too.

This is where we are now though, January 2011. Looking to make positive changes in our lives.

Isn't that how we always start the new year? In the spirit of bettering ourselves, I thought I would share with all of you some of my goals for 2011:

*     *     *

Read the Bible in one year - When I was about nine years old I read my children's Bible, which is like 500 pages, so I mean, that's quite an accomplishment for a child. But, I have never read the entire Bible, all the way through. I decided that it is something I need to do in my life, thus I have set out on my journey to read the Bible, beginning to end within this year. The funny thing is, I thought it would feel like a chore, but I am genuinely enjoying it and I look forward to my nightly readings. Husband has joined me in this too, and the nights he is home we read out loud with each other. It's become a really fun activity for us to share, and best of all, I'm only 28 chapters in and have already learned so many things that I never knew before. Now I am just wondering why it took me 26 years to get my act together, and start reading the most important book on earth on a regular basis!

Memorize one Bible verse every week - This one goes hand in hand with my first goal. I figured since I am reading the Bible, I might as well start committing some passages to memory.

Get paid for at least one writing job - So in the last seven months I started my blog, and became a contributing writer for The Smartly. This is all great experience for me and I love it...but would really love to branch out a bit and find some writing jobs that pay in actual money, in addition to the satisfaction I get from writing.

Write at least two blogs a week - Ok. FAIL. I know, I already messed up on this, the first week of the new year, but I am totally focused now and will work hard to keep to this goal.

Have Binker potty-trained by June 30th - This is a fluid goal for me. I would love to have him potty-trained by this date, but I know that potty training is something that cannot be rushed or forced, so if this date comes and goes, and he is still in diapers, then I am cool with that.

Date nights four times a month - Our lives are craaaaazy, yo! Between Husband's ever-changing work schedule, the kids, the housework, my writing, Husband's college classes and all the other millions of things that fill up our days, it's hard to get that essential "couple time". We're committed to setting aside time though, to focus on each other and our relationship. Whether that means dressing up and going out to dinner or putting the kids to bed early and just renting a movie doesn't matter, we just like to hang out together and talk about the two of us and how we're doing. In reality we do this a lot more often than once a week, but writing it down as a goal just reminds me to always keep our marriage the priority. 

Mommy and me dates with Binker and Bug four times a year - I get to hang out with the two coolest little dudes every day, but they are each so different and unique, so I like to do "mommy and me days" with each one individually, where we go do a fun activity and maybe go out to lunch. Basically, that kid gets to pretend to be an only child for a few hours and have mommy's full attention. What child doesn't love that? Plus, it is really fun for me to be able to have one-on-one time with each of my sons, and really see what's new with them and what they're doing now.

Read with the boys for a total of 30 minutes every day - Both Binker and Bug love books, and I want to foster that love for reading more and more as they grow. I don't time us or anything, but I just aim to sit and read with them as much as I can throughout the day - whenever they bring a book to me, or they seem bored, or I have a few extra minutes.

*     *     *

So there you have it, some of my goals for 2011. I would love to hear some of yours - please feel free to share in the comments section for all to see. Until next time, Happy New Year! 

And to my fellow New Year dieters - Ughhh, here's to another day of being "healthy" or whatever.

Know

I was sitting in my kindergarten class. 

Most of the moms were visiting that day. Our teacher was reading the book, Love You Forever.

The lines repeated throughout the book are, "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."

I looked around, and all of the moms had tears running down their faces, kleenexes bunched in their fingers. My mom was no different. I looked at her blankly.  

Why was she crying? Why were any of them crying? 

Moms could be funny, and I didn't get it.

I've always been close with my parents, we have a great relationship. They told me often that they loved me, no matter what. But I didn't really get it until 4:07am on the morning of April 24th, 2008 when my first son, Jacob, came into the world.

In that moment, I understood the love my parents had always professed for my brother and me. In that moment, I came to know absolute, pure, unconditional love.

Sometimes at night I pick my children up out of their cribs and rock them in my arms. I hold them close and I feel almost suffocated by all the things I want to tell them.

That I love them in a way that no language can express. 

That I would die for them without a moment's hesitation. 

That I pray they never have to suffer any pain in their lives.

Growing up, when I did something wrong, I would be afraid to tell my parents. I'd imagine the worst possible reaction they could have, and it usually included them writing me off or disowning me.

Because I didn't get it.

If I could have known the depth of their love for me then, I don't think I would have been fearful in sharing my misdeeds with them. (Well, not as fearful anyway, because I still got punished).

As a parent, I want my children to know that I love them no matter what. It doesn't matter what they do, or what they say, or what they think. I will continue to love them. It is beyond my control, and I couldn't stop loving them if I wanted to.

And yet, I doubt they will get it either. 

Until the day comes when they hold their own firstborn child in their arms and they fall desperately in love with that perfect, precious baby.

Then they will finally know.

I Think Parents Traveling with Children Should Get Complimentary Alcohol on Airplanes

Sigh.

I'm tired. I'm stressed. I'm on edge.

Can you guess what I'm doing today?

Flying. With toddlers.

My mind is flooded with images of luggage falling all over the place, the kids screaming and wiggling to get out of their strollers, angry looks from annoyed strangers, and TSA who want to basically molest me in their effort to keep our skies safer.

Will I make it through today?

To top it off, I have been dealing with some weird body temperature issues this past week. I have been so freaking hot for no reason. It doesn't matter where we are, or what I'm doing. It just comes and goes without warning, and it immediately causes me to break out into a sweat. 

I hate being hot. HATE IT. 

I don't look good when I'm hot. I get shiny and puffy, and it makes me really cranky. So now I keep wondering if I am going to have a hot flash at the airport, while carting around luggage and children, and I will be dripping with sweat and snapping at the slightest things, all because my internal barometer is reading 9500 freaking degrees.

Because of all these issues, I have been going into our bedroom every five minutes to announce to Richard that I have a new "battle plan" for tomorrow. God love him, he is one patient man. He listens quietly and nods his head yes, even though he has heard my detailed strategy a million times already, and every time I go over it again I can see his stress level rising. He's scared too. But he's being the strong one. 

I don't know what's wrong with me, but I just can't shut up. I hear myself talking, and in my head I'm like, KELLYN STOP TALKING YOU SOUND LIKE A CRAZY PERSON. But I can't. I just can't stop. 

*       *       *       *       *

Oh, and baby? I was thinking maybe I could drive to the airport tomorrow. I know I am going to be on edge and stressed to begin with, and sometimes when I am stressed I have a tendency to get stressed out even more by your driving, so I think this would be a way for us to avoid an unnecessary conflict.

What? You think I'm a bad driver?

No, no no. You're missing the point. Just say you'll let me drive.

*       *       *       *       *

He even watched the boys today so I could run to Old Navy. I was on a mission to find a "flying outfit". I would prefer to wear my new favorite Seven jeans, (that I bought at 40% off OMG!), but the thing that makes them so cute - the fact that they are adorned with gemstones - is exactly why I cannot wear them. They would set off every alarm, bell and whistle that airport security has in place. 

Next thing you know I would be taken to some back room, stripped from the waist down as the TSA ran my jeans through an X-Ray machine, and interrogated me about that trip I took to Mexico five years ago, and Richard would be on the other side of the door, with two hungry, screaming, poopy toddlers, yelling at me about why in God's name did I wear bedazzled pants to the airport?!

So as you can imagine, I was hoping to avoid all that. 

I went in search of some stretchy, comfy pants with no buttons, metal, zippers, nothing. I eventually found some yoga-type pants, and while not particularly cute, they will do the job. 

So this is where we're at. T-minus 20 hours until our plane leaves the ground that I so enjoy having my feet firmly planted on. But I am already too stressed about traveling with kids as it is, that I'm not even going to allow myself to start worrying about the plane crashing. I just can't. This week has already caused  me more than enough gray hairs, I'm sure.

Bottom line? Traveling with little kids SUCKS. There's no way around it. Richard was all, "Let's just drive to Illinois".

HA.

I told him he better hop off the crazy train because that would never be happening. 

A twenty-plus hour car ride, through the snow, and over several mountain passes with a one and two year old? No thanks. 

I guess I will settle for outrageous baggage fees, let a TSA employee get to second-base with me, and then spend three hours in a compact fuselage, squeezed so close to the stranger next to me that our elbows and knees keep awkwardly rubbing together.

I don't mean to sound like a Scrooge. I was stressed last year too, and once we got to Illinois we all had the best trip with Richard's extended family in a beautiful white Christmas. I am looking forward to another fun and memorable year. 

But this whole traveling process? Has turned me into a raving lunatic.

Merry Christmas, everyone!