OK folks. The Tooth Fairy is tapped. After paying up for two teeth that came out naturally in the past few weeks, my oldest son Daniel had four (yes, 1,2,3, FOUR) teeth extracted today to make room for ones that need to come in. The poor guy has a sum total of TWO teeth (his middle bottom two) in the front of his mouth. He was a champ and really bounced back this evening...especially when the electric glow of dollar signs beamed from his eyes as he retired to his sleeping chamber for the evening.
It was the stuff sweet memories are made of. It was so Little House on the Prarie-esque. It was such a Norman Rockwell-would-paint-this kinda parenting moment. As he turned to walk down the hall he said, "Mom, the tooth fairy is going to pay up, isn't she???"
Ahhh...tender moments.
So, as I Google recipes that can be pureed in a blender, please consider making a donation to our Tooth Fairy PayPal account at http://www.mychildhas2teethleft.com/. OK, you really didn't click on that link did you? I am so totally joking. But hey....maybe it's not such a bad idea????? Instead of the stainless steel bling they put on two of his teeth, maybe we could get gold ones with stars or a peace sign engraved on them.
Hmmmmmm. This could be the start of somethin.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Yeah Because My Mornings Always Start with Dead Rodents and Rockstars
If there is one thing about me that I can say without hesitation...my life is rarely boring. Take this morning for instance.
Because I had a sinus headache and my child had already gone to bed and it would have been way too prepared of us to do it any sooner, the finalization of Daniel's class Valentines were put off until this morning. Why it is physically impossible for me to buy those little fold-over ones with the little tabs you seal them with is beyond me. It is like a sickness. I flat out refuse to buy them because it goes against every creative bone in my body to do so. I do not frown upon those that do; in fact, I envy those who pick up those boxes and toss them in the cart and don't waste precious hours of their life snipping and coloring and....oh forget it. I am just a freak. A freak that digresses. Where was I? Oh yes, the Valentines.
So we're finishing the Valentines the morning of. My eldest is clad in his pajamas signing said Valentines and my youngest is wearing a diaper that is hanging down halfway to the ground. Clutching his sippy cup he starts to yell..."BUGGGGGGGG!!!!" I look around for a fly or bee or any type of bug as he screams again. "MOMMMMMAAAA...BUGGGGGGG!!!!!" I am up to my eyeballs in construction paper and my left hand is fused together with spray glue and I am searching around for a bug so Jacob will stop screaming. Then Daniel comes flying into my office..."Moooooooommmmmmmmmmmmm...it's......it's.......a RAT!!!!!!!!!!!"
What????
I go into the living room and sure as the dickens there is a mouse in the middle of the floor being tossed about by our dog and cat. They are screaming, the school bus is due in 20 minutes and I have a breakfast meeting in downtown Nashville for which I have neither showered nor dressed. I scream on the inside as I scoop up the rodent and dispose of him, decide we're car riders today, quickly finish the Valentine's, find socks for Daniel, dress Jacob, shower, get dressed and rush out the door to take both boys to school.
Both boys deposited, I head up into town.
Now, folks I may be hip in my heart but by looking at me toodling around town in my HotMamaMobile, I disguise it well. After having 30 minutes to regroup and try to transition from crafty-diaper-changing-rodent-disposing-Momma to professional event planner, I pull up to the Loew's Vanderbilt Plaza hotel. In my minvan. A minivan that is dirty and filled with crushed pretzels and car seats and half a dozen baby items returned to me in 2006 I think.
I hop out and tell the bellman I am running in to pick someone up and he directs me to a familiar-looking gentleman with a guitar case. The guy says, "are you here to pick us up?" After he sees my quizzical look he says, "The Peas? You're here to pick up The Black Eyed Peas?"
I started laughing and said, "oh. noooooo. Not picking up The Peas. But I said, "If you need a lift somewhere....?" and he laughed. It turns out the rock group The Black Eyed Peas were staying there and waiting on a ride over to the arena to rehearse for tonight's show and they thought I was it. Me in my filthy, carseat-filled minivan. I couldn't help but chuckle as I thought about chatting it up with Fergie as she hopped in the front "hey Ferg...just move that Capri Sun packet and hand me last week's mail...oh and that broken CD...it's not one of yours is it?" Afterwards, I did regret not saying "sure folks! Hop in! Where we going?"
Oh well. Hindsight is always 20/20, huh?
Because I had a sinus headache and my child had already gone to bed and it would have been way too prepared of us to do it any sooner, the finalization of Daniel's class Valentines were put off until this morning. Why it is physically impossible for me to buy those little fold-over ones with the little tabs you seal them with is beyond me. It is like a sickness. I flat out refuse to buy them because it goes against every creative bone in my body to do so. I do not frown upon those that do; in fact, I envy those who pick up those boxes and toss them in the cart and don't waste precious hours of their life snipping and coloring and....oh forget it. I am just a freak. A freak that digresses. Where was I? Oh yes, the Valentines.
So we're finishing the Valentines the morning of. My eldest is clad in his pajamas signing said Valentines and my youngest is wearing a diaper that is hanging down halfway to the ground. Clutching his sippy cup he starts to yell..."BUGGGGGGGG!!!!" I look around for a fly or bee or any type of bug as he screams again. "MOMMMMMAAAA...BUGGGGGGG!!!!!" I am up to my eyeballs in construction paper and my left hand is fused together with spray glue and I am searching around for a bug so Jacob will stop screaming. Then Daniel comes flying into my office..."Moooooooommmmmmmmmmmmm...it's......it's.......a RAT!!!!!!!!!!!"
What????
I go into the living room and sure as the dickens there is a mouse in the middle of the floor being tossed about by our dog and cat. They are screaming, the school bus is due in 20 minutes and I have a breakfast meeting in downtown Nashville for which I have neither showered nor dressed. I scream on the inside as I scoop up the rodent and dispose of him, decide we're car riders today, quickly finish the Valentine's, find socks for Daniel, dress Jacob, shower, get dressed and rush out the door to take both boys to school.
Both boys deposited, I head up into town.
Now, folks I may be hip in my heart but by looking at me toodling around town in my HotMamaMobile, I disguise it well. After having 30 minutes to regroup and try to transition from crafty-diaper-changing-rodent-disposing-Momma to professional event planner, I pull up to the Loew's Vanderbilt Plaza hotel. In my minvan. A minivan that is dirty and filled with crushed pretzels and car seats and half a dozen baby items returned to me in 2006 I think.
I hop out and tell the bellman I am running in to pick someone up and he directs me to a familiar-looking gentleman with a guitar case. The guy says, "are you here to pick us up?" After he sees my quizzical look he says, "The Peas? You're here to pick up The Black Eyed Peas?"
I started laughing and said, "oh. noooooo. Not picking up The Peas. But I said, "If you need a lift somewhere....?" and he laughed. It turns out the rock group The Black Eyed Peas were staying there and waiting on a ride over to the arena to rehearse for tonight's show and they thought I was it. Me in my filthy, carseat-filled minivan. I couldn't help but chuckle as I thought about chatting it up with Fergie as she hopped in the front "hey Ferg...just move that Capri Sun packet and hand me last week's mail...oh and that broken CD...it's not one of yours is it?" Afterwards, I did regret not saying "sure folks! Hop in! Where we going?"
Oh well. Hindsight is always 20/20, huh?
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Love is in the Air
We have a budding romance a brewin in the Toddler Two room of Jacob's daycare. Oh yes, it is the stuff dreams are made of. We walk in and you can all but hear the strains of Barry White crooning as the door opens and their eyes meet.
Jacob and Izzy.
She's a sprite of a thing barely a few inches taller than a sprig of grass with big beautiful eyes and sweet little flyaway chestnut colored hair. And Jacob adores her.
Last night he said, lifting his arms as he does when ever he asks a question, "where Izzy go?" And this morning, all the way to school he said, "Izzy. Izzy, Momma...."
Oh my.
I joked with his teacher about it this morning and she said when she sometimes moves to another room in the afternoon Jacob says, "Izzy go?" Is that just not the sweetest thing you've ever heard?
Today we took in Valentines for his class. When we made Izzy's he dropped his head and did this shy little glance upward. Oh my goodness. It's a tragic love story in the making. Boy meets girl. Boy falls for girl. Boy gets moved to Preschool One from Toddler Two and girl moves on with Trace or Jake or Matthew. Cue dramatic music. They see each other on the playground or perhaps during potty break or joint circle time.
Oh the drama of young romance.
Jacob and Izzy.
She's a sprite of a thing barely a few inches taller than a sprig of grass with big beautiful eyes and sweet little flyaway chestnut colored hair. And Jacob adores her.
Last night he said, lifting his arms as he does when ever he asks a question, "where Izzy go?" And this morning, all the way to school he said, "Izzy. Izzy, Momma...."
Oh my.
I joked with his teacher about it this morning and she said when she sometimes moves to another room in the afternoon Jacob says, "Izzy go?" Is that just not the sweetest thing you've ever heard?
Today we took in Valentines for his class. When we made Izzy's he dropped his head and did this shy little glance upward. Oh my goodness. It's a tragic love story in the making. Boy meets girl. Boy falls for girl. Boy gets moved to Preschool One from Toddler Two and girl moves on with Trace or Jake or Matthew. Cue dramatic music. They see each other on the playground or perhaps during potty break or joint circle time.
Oh the drama of young romance.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Look Out Jerry, Here I Come
I am taking up a new hobby that involves carving a customized stamp from a rubber pad. I have been on the hunt for such an item at the usual big box craft stores like Michaels, etc. But an artsy friend of mine said there are two TRUE art supply stores in the Nashville area and one of them is called....are you ready for this?
Jerry's ART-O-RAMA.
Folk, I can hardly say that without hand motions. Is that not just a party waiting to happen I ask you?
Now, I'm always up for a good O-Rama...but...but...an ART O-Rama? By someone named Jerry nonetheless? You know Jerry is the fun guy. The life of the party. The...CREATOR OF SOMETHING CALLED AN ART-O-RAMA.
I must go. It will be a pilgrimage of sorts. I will document the journey. It will be something to cross off my Bucket List. Well, it's not actually on my bucket list yet but it will be. Then I will cross it off. Oh yes I will.
An Art-O-Rama. I'm getting all fluttery just thinkin about it. [laugh]
Jerry's ART-O-RAMA.
Folk, I can hardly say that without hand motions. Is that not just a party waiting to happen I ask you?
Now, I'm always up for a good O-Rama...but...but...an ART O-Rama? By someone named Jerry nonetheless? You know Jerry is the fun guy. The life of the party. The...CREATOR OF SOMETHING CALLED AN ART-O-RAMA.
I must go. It will be a pilgrimage of sorts. I will document the journey. It will be something to cross off my Bucket List. Well, it's not actually on my bucket list yet but it will be. Then I will cross it off. Oh yes I will.
An Art-O-Rama. I'm getting all fluttery just thinkin about it. [laugh]
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Birdsong
Birdsong. That's really a lovely word when you think about it. Birdsong. Kinda just rolls off your tongue conjouring up images of spring flowers in bloom and a cloudless sunshiny day filled with the delicate harmonies of birds dancing on the air.
Unless....the last name of the person who calls your home at 8:13pm to leave a chipper message that schools in your district are CLOSED the next day is...Birdsong. Then, the word loses just a bit of its sunshiny happiness. Unless you are a kid, of course.
I am sure Carol Birdsong is a lovely woman. I bet we would get a long just fine chatting over a cup of coffee maybe discussing politics or the weather or even American Idol. But when the husband person is out of town and I have appointments stacked up today like a pile o' pancakes, I dread hearing her voice on the other end of the line.
"Hellooooo Williamson County parents, THIS is Carol Birdsong...."
"Noooooo. Not Carol Birdsongggggggg!!!"
Now, don't get me wrong. I am the kind of parent who would love to take the day and frolic in the snow with my kiddos. But a day like today is nothing but wet, mushy, slushy mess...just enough to make the kids wanna go out but it's really too nasty to be a fun day outside.
But it happened. The call came. And just as I was about to rant about how clear the roads are this morning, I look out the window and it's snowing hard again.
OK, Carol Birdsong. I'll give ya a break on this one.
Unless....the last name of the person who calls your home at 8:13pm to leave a chipper message that schools in your district are CLOSED the next day is...Birdsong. Then, the word loses just a bit of its sunshiny happiness. Unless you are a kid, of course.
I am sure Carol Birdsong is a lovely woman. I bet we would get a long just fine chatting over a cup of coffee maybe discussing politics or the weather or even American Idol. But when the husband person is out of town and I have appointments stacked up today like a pile o' pancakes, I dread hearing her voice on the other end of the line.
"Hellooooo Williamson County parents, THIS is Carol Birdsong...."
"Noooooo. Not Carol Birdsongggggggg!!!"
Now, don't get me wrong. I am the kind of parent who would love to take the day and frolic in the snow with my kiddos. But a day like today is nothing but wet, mushy, slushy mess...just enough to make the kids wanna go out but it's really too nasty to be a fun day outside.
But it happened. The call came. And just as I was about to rant about how clear the roads are this morning, I look out the window and it's snowing hard again.
OK, Carol Birdsong. I'll give ya a break on this one.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
Don't Go Filin Me Away in the Looney Bin Just Yet...
OK...having read over the very few posts I have made recently I know it seems like life on Katie's Blog is gonna be a roller coaster. "She's happy and talkin about pizza and her hubby and then she's writing some weird post about DNA strands or somethin' or other..."
Yep.
But that is exactly how I've been feelin lately. One minute I feel like nothin could stop me from accomplishing my goals and dreams and then the next day I'm feelin gloomy doomy and stuck in the aforementioned Yucky Place. But, I do realize that if I only write about the happy stuff then I will look back years from now and see nothing but a facade-- and that is something I just don't wanna do.
So, please pardon the ups and downs and know that it won't always be serious "what did she mean by that?" poetry but it won't always be sunshiny happiness. Hmm...sounds kinda like life, doesn't it? Well, for what it's worth, thanks for coming along for the ride. I am glad you're here.
Yep.
But that is exactly how I've been feelin lately. One minute I feel like nothin could stop me from accomplishing my goals and dreams and then the next day I'm feelin gloomy doomy and stuck in the aforementioned Yucky Place. But, I do realize that if I only write about the happy stuff then I will look back years from now and see nothing but a facade-- and that is something I just don't wanna do.
So, please pardon the ups and downs and know that it won't always be serious "what did she mean by that?" poetry but it won't always be sunshiny happiness. Hmm...sounds kinda like life, doesn't it? Well, for what it's worth, thanks for coming along for the ride. I am glad you're here.
Friday, February 05, 2010
Complex
Strands of me
Twisting
Winding
Tangled
Fangled
Sometimes
Mangled
All add up
To the girl you see
Strands of me
Stretching
Straining
Peeling
Healing
Together
make me who I am
I am complex
I am difficult
I am not who I want to be
Most of the time
It could be a phase
It could be the beginning
Of figuring out
How to deal
How to feel
How to cope
When the girl
You thought you were
Introduces you
To someone you never thought you'd be.
Twisting
Winding
Tangled
Fangled
Sometimes
Mangled
All add up
To the girl you see
Strands of me
Stretching
Straining
Peeling
Healing
Together
make me who I am
I am complex
I am difficult
I am not who I want to be
Most of the time
It could be a phase
It could be the beginning
Of figuring out
How to deal
How to feel
How to cope
When the girl
You thought you were
Introduces you
To someone you never thought you'd be.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Yucky Place
Don't read too much into this. But I gotta write it all the same.
I have been in a yucky place. And I am tired. Tired of feeling this way. I have the world's most patient and understanding husband. I have two wonderfully independent and challenging and adorable boys. I have a great job. I have a great house. I have great family and friends who love me even though I am a little crazy and hard to love sometimes.
But none of this seems like enough.
Yucky place.
So, I am digging out. I am no longer comfortable in my lack of contentment. I am going to write more. That used to make me really happy...writing about my family or even just writing about some birds I saw on a fence while waiting at the CVS drive-thru. It made me happy. I am going to spend less time worrying about why I don't feel content because the very act of worrying about a lack of contentment appears to be poisonous in the quest for happiness.
Not sure how this is sounding. Haven't gone back and re-read and edited and wondered if I should say something a partciular way. I'm just typing. And I am about to hit publish.
Just wanted anyone who might still stumble upon this slice of the internet landscape in hopes of finding a recent post to know that I am trying to get back to the "me" that found even the tiniest bit of solice in writing. In sharing. In connecting. It's been too long.
No more yucky place.
I have been in a yucky place. And I am tired. Tired of feeling this way. I have the world's most patient and understanding husband. I have two wonderfully independent and challenging and adorable boys. I have a great job. I have a great house. I have great family and friends who love me even though I am a little crazy and hard to love sometimes.
But none of this seems like enough.
Yucky place.
So, I am digging out. I am no longer comfortable in my lack of contentment. I am going to write more. That used to make me really happy...writing about my family or even just writing about some birds I saw on a fence while waiting at the CVS drive-thru. It made me happy. I am going to spend less time worrying about why I don't feel content because the very act of worrying about a lack of contentment appears to be poisonous in the quest for happiness.
Not sure how this is sounding. Haven't gone back and re-read and edited and wondered if I should say something a partciular way. I'm just typing. And I am about to hit publish.
Just wanted anyone who might still stumble upon this slice of the internet landscape in hopes of finding a recent post to know that I am trying to get back to the "me" that found even the tiniest bit of solice in writing. In sharing. In connecting. It's been too long.
No more yucky place.
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