Sick Days

Something wicked this way comes (Macbeth, Act IV, Scene I)

It started a couple of weeks ago, with Megan complaining almost incessantly of a headache and an achy stomach. She is kind of a drama queen (oh what a bad, bad mother I am for saying that), and went about her daily life of school, piano practice, etc. The day after the Daddy-Daughter dance she was so beside herself that her head hurt that we forced her to take a nap. The next day she seemed better so we didn't come up with anything more than her being overtired.

Of course that next day was the day that Isabelle woke up feverish and couldn't manage to keep down her breakfast or a snack. She too complained of a headache, but a long nap cured her of what ailed her and she was back on her feet the same afternoon.

Oblivious that what ailed Isabelle was the same thing that ailed Meg, we went about our week last week. Until Thursday afternoon, when Drew started complaining of a headache. We went for a ride to the nursery to get ideas for our gardens, and on our way home he vomited all over the inside of my van. He spent ALL day Friday sleeping on my couch and limped his way through Saturday and most of Sunday. Then we realized that what Meg had had spread to the others.

Last night, we couldn't find Isabelle; we thought she was with the big kids playing, but no. She was in her bed, asleep. At 6:15. By 10:15 she was up, vomiting, again. She has spent today in and out of sleep on the couch. Annabelle, not to bed left out, has joined the ranks of the fallen with the fever, a headache and as AndreAnna calls it, "flowers".

My poor kids. I sat all day Friday with Drew on the couch while he burned up and slept. I sat all day today with Izzie while she burned up and slept. I made countless trips to the bathroom with Annie and tried to console her. I feel AWFUL for giving Meg such a hard time about all her complaining. I hate when my kids are sick and there isn't a damn thing I can do for them.

I think I'll take to wearing Lysol in a holster on my hip, garlic around my neck (who knows, it may work on more than just vampires) and giving alms to whoever we pissed off so that my kids can get healthy again. In the meantime, I need rest, coffee, rest and a vacation.

The Next Big Thing

I am not sad that Drew is going to kindergarten in September. I am not sad that Annie and Izzie will be attending preschool for 6 hours a week in September.

I'm pretty sure this makes me kind of a freak in the parenting world. Don't get me wrong. I'll cry when he gets on the bus that first day, but I know he'll be with Meg and she'll make sure he gets off the bus at his school before she heads on to hers. Annie and Izzie will be going to the same school and will be with each other, so while I'll shed a tiny tear, I'll be happy they're together to start their journey.

The reason that I'm not sad that my house will be a bit quieter in September isn't because I don't love my kids. It's not because I really want to clean my house without little hands and feet messing it up right behind me. And it's not because I just want to drink my coffee while it's hot and watch a little Today show (ok, well maybe a little of all of that because I'm only human!)

It's because the school experience is the next Big Thing. It's what I've been preparing them for since they could walk and talk. Not in overt ways like flash cards and workbooks, but in more subtle ways like reading to them and practicing letters and spelling word after word after word for them. Ways like counting rocks and and using fridge magnets to spell A-N-D-R-E-W.  Ways like giving them a hug at the door to the bus or in the doorway of school and saying "have a great day!"

I think what makes all of it easier for me is that I've been there and done that with Megan. I've put a child on the bus for the first time (and yes, I met that bus at the school and watched her walk in the door that first day). But, I've seen how she thrives in school. I know that I cannot give her what she gets from going to school every day. I feel that same way for Drew, Annie and Izzie. I believe I've given them the tools they need to start the next Big Thing. Of course I'll be here to help them if they stumble along the way, just as I've been with Meg. I'll support and encourage them, cheer their successes and wipe away their tears.

So if this makes me a freak in the parenting world, so be it. I know it's right for them, for all of us. And I can't wait to see how they spread their wings and fly.

Happy Things

It's school vacation week. Again. If you're keeping track, here in the Northeast the kids have vacation at Christmas, again in February, and one last time in April. I would love to say that I enjoy school vacations, but I simply do not. I enjoy not having to rush out the door every morning to either drive Meg and Drew to school or get Meg on the bus, but that is where the enjoyment ends. Meg hates school vacations. She'd rather be at school. So she is miserable for days on end and drags the rest of us down. It's really hard to be cheerful when your child is screaming how much she hates being home with you.

Today on this Patriot's Day (a holiday only for people in Maine and Massachusetts), here are happy things that make me cheerful:

Coffee
My cell phone

Sharpies (and yes, I have almost every color imaginable)
My camera (Canon Rebel xsi DSLR)
Books
Clean laundry
Smiling kids
Big hugs
This blog
Scrapbooking (this is all I use)
Coffee
Did I mention coffee?

Do you have a list of happy things? I'd love to read about them!

Let's Dance!

Saturday night was the 4th Annual Daddy-Daughter dance for our school district. Meg and I had a very difficult time picking out a dress that wasn't too babyish or too slutty (my kid wears a size 16, which nearly pushes her to the Juniors department, which is so NOT appropriate for a 9 year old, ahem). We finally found the PERFECT dress at Target. It's a Liberty of London dress and just screamed Megan. I had to do a little tailoring (thank goodness for Home Ec class in 7th grade) to make the straps stay put and the bodice a little tighter, but it was exactly what we wanted.

She has grown up so much since the first Daddy-Daughter dance when she was a kindergartener.

She's such a grown up girl. I am already dreading the teenage years! (Oh, and Meg is totally standing on the top of the porch and Doug is one step down in that last picture, but I'm pretty sure that's what she's going to look like in another 5 years).

Ultimate Blog Party!

It's that time again! 5MinutesforMom's Ultimate Blog Party is here!



Welcome! I'm Kristin and I'm the relatively sane Mama of four kids~Meg, Drew, Annie and Izzie. I love a good book, hot coffee and peace and quiet (so, two out of three isn't bad!).  I've been married to my husband Doug for almost 12 years, but we've been together for 19 years.We live in Maine, surrounded by trees and not much else, and we wouldn't have it any other way.


Meg is 9 years old, a 3rd grader with a love of books, music, hockey and softball.  She's pretty well-rounded for such a young thing.

Drew is 5 years old and will be entering kindergarten in the fall. He loves hockey, dogs, cars, dinosaurs and dirt, like any good boy should.

Annie is 3 and loves giving hugs, snuggling her stuffed cow Mooie and coloring.

Izzie is Annie's twin sister. She loves lambs. I mean, really, really loves lambs.


It's a crazy life, but it's my life. Won't you stay awhile and visit?

Letters

It's been awhile since I've done some Open Letters. This should be fun.

Dear Annie:

I love your hugs. They are truly the loveliest hugs in the world. What I do not love though, is your insistence that you are the boss of this house. It's dinnertime when I tell you to get in your seat, not when you feel like it.  When I tell you to put on your shoes so that we can get Meg to the bus on time, it's not a negotiation. As you've seen, Mama will just throw you in your seat shoeless and go about her business. Let's get on the same page here and make everyone happy, ok?

Love, your tired, overworked and very underpaid Mama

Dear Izzie:

You are a great snuggler. I love it when you curl up in my arms and coo. What I do not love is your insistence on breaking things~your bed, toys, books, crayons. You will end up with nowhere to sleep, nothing to play with and nothing to read or color. Do you really want to challenge me on that? Where are your blocks? Oh yes, in the garage, taken away due to your inability to treat them nicely. Let's get on the same page here and make everyone happy, ok?

Love, your tired, overworked and very underpaid Mama

Dear Drew:

You can be the sweetest, most loving little boy a Mama has ever known. I love that Drew with all my heart. What I do not love is the Drew who throws toys at me and his sisters, who hits, who screams "I hate you Mama" at the drop of a hat and who is generally irritable from sun up until sundown. That Drew can find a short pier and take a long walk. Bring back the good boy that I love, ok?

Love, your tired, overworked and very underpaid Mama

Dear Meg:

You will always be my little girl even if you are getting closer every day to being as tall as me. I love you to the moon and back. But for the love of coffee (and Mama loves her coffee), could you please please please stop acting like a baby every time I ask you to do something or you don't get exactly what you want the veryminuteyouaskforit? Your crying and carrying on is enough to make me go postal and quite honestly, that takes too much energy. You are such a smart kid, so let's get on the same page and make everyone happy, ok?

Love, your tired, overworked and very underpaid Mama

Dear Sheldon:

No more nights away from the house ok? Your big kids were so worried about you and I can't deal with all the crying and carrying on because you've disappeared into the woods where the coyotes live. So remember not to piss off the hands that feed you and come in at night.

Love, yo Mama

Keeping Quiet

I've started a dozen posts in my head, but none have even made it to the "draft" stage on the blog. Life is moving along, some days quickly (like Monday) and other days are just so....long and boring. I guess boring is the wrong word when you're the Mama of four kids though. How about long and tedious? Yes, that's better.

I think the hardest thing about writing blog posts is that I use other social media like Twitter and Facebook so I feel very much like I'm repeating myself, or that I have nothing really to say. I have plenty I want to say, but some of it is not my place to blog about and other things are just so....annoying to blog about, like the kids constantly fighting. I mean really, who cares, right? Kids fight. But that is the extent of my daily existence, so instead of blogging, I keep quiet.

Keeping quiet is a double-edged sword for me. There are things I want to blog about but choose not to because they are too personal in nature. There are things I want to blog about but choose not to because I am afraid to say what I'm thinking. I'm afraid to say some things because putting them out there makes them real, but keeping quiet means they're just floating around in my head and that is a safer place for them. Doug reads this blog. I think it would be pretty awful if he read something that I blogged about that I'd never mentioned to him.

Having this blog means that I have to pick and choose what aspect of myself to show my "audience". Lately that is becoming more difficult for me to do. I was never sure of the direction of my blog when I started it just over two years ago. I don't know where I want to go from here with it, either. My blog is certainly about more than just my kids because I am about more than just my kids (although at times it does NOT feel that way). And there's the issue. Maybe I need a new blog name. Maybe I need to be more comfortable in my own skin, which will allow me to write what I'm feeling, what I'm thinking.

Am I the only person who feels this way?
Should I stop blogging?
Should I change my blog name?
Thoughts? Suggestions? Vodka?