Spring Sick

It's been a long week. And just as we were seeing the light at the end of the tunnel with Littles, it seems that Tiny has descended into a violent vortex of vomiting. The best thing is that he is a trauma hugger, and throwing up is extremely traumatic for a fourteen month old. Needless to say, there have been multiple outfit changes for everyone involved.

In the meantime, I've been taking joy in the little things that get us through. Like, the get well card that came from Little's class at Mother's Day Out. You should've seen his face light up. And running into three different friends while out walking yesterday afternoon (real live conversations with people who aren't threatening to throw up on me! The novelty factor was unparalleled...). But mostly, I've been enjoying spring.

We've been kind of cabin fevered since we don't want to spread germs: no library, no play dates, worst of all, no playground. So we've been spending a lot of time in the yard enjoying the sunshine and going for long walks to find signs of spring. Tiny gleefully busted out the year's first pair of sandals:

We had a muffin picnic in the backyard:

And we discovered the first tree on base to burst into bud. At least, we maintain that it was the first tree. We then broke off a couple branches to bring home so we could have a little Spring in the house along with all the sickness. The Man thought we were horrible, defacing the tree like that for our own enjoyment, especially it being the First Tree on Base to Bloom, you know, but there are so many branches and the two we took were very little and how many other crazy people do you know who would take one for themselves?

At any rate, the moral of the story was encompassed in the first moments of my day: in the middle of de-barfing the crib, I happened to check my phone's verse for the day, and it read: This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it! So I'm going to get on that. Right now. Seriously. Right. Now. Barfy babies and all.

Being the MOM

How you like me now?
Check out my super snazzy photography, man.

Sometimes I like to remind myself of who I really am underneath my secret identity of the MOM. This week, being the MOM has deserved all capitals. That 24 hour virus that hit over the weekend has turned out to not be a 24 hour virus. Add to that, the fact that Littles tried to give himself a concussion (and failed) on Monday, flooded the bathroom with toilet water (allegedly an accident) on Tuesday, and relapsed with barfiness on Wednesday (wait, that's today!), and I am the MOM.

Also known as the BOSS.

And the AWESOME.

And this is just my day job, guys. When I take off my nerdy glasses and slick back my hair, that's when I really get to work.

At the very least, I am seeing that glass as half empty. The benefits of having a child with the stomach flu (or whatever it is that he has) are legion. I have now culled the herd of plastic grocery bags that were taking over my kitchen. The grout on the bathroom floor has been religiously sanitized. I have the theme song to Thomas memorized and in my head 24/7. I'm not gaining weight from resting my knee since all the food I cook still smells like barf to me. What else? Oh yeah, everyone's sheets are very, very clean since they have had to be washed multiple times. And the list goes on. It's a pot of gold, I tell you!

By the way, I have now reached the point where I can do eight full loads of laundry in a day and not lose my mind. Somebody get this girl an award!

Anyway, I do have serious stuff to write in here later, but I'm saving it for a day when I wouldn't rather be eating chocolate chips and watching JAG.

One final note, and he'll probably kill me for this, but I'd like to make a special shout out to my side kick and partner-in-crime, the Robin to my domestic Batman, the Ricky to my Lucy, the Barney Fife to my Andy Taylor (haha, just kidding on that last one): The Man sure had my back the last few days. And I appreciate him. The End.

Sick Sunday

We stayed home from church today with a sick Littles. There was an exquisite amount of barfing going on. Well, most of it happened last night, and then the stomach problems progressed from there. But here we are today: Littles has been curled up in bed watching Thomas with a trash can ready for our next excitement, and the rest of us are just enjoying having more family here (the Man's brothers and dad). I wasn't going to write, but then we all sat down to watch Hook together while the boys nap (and hopefully sleep off whatever yucky virus is going around), and all of a sudden I started wondering what other people did when they were sick as kids. The Man watched loads of Disney movies, but since we didn't have a TV growing up, I remember lots of books. Lots and lots of books. In all honesty, growing up in our family was no fun until you learned to read, which is why we all learned so quickly. Anyway, point being, what did you do when you were little and sick? Now that I'm big--can you tell I'm watching a movie about Peter Pan--when I get sick all I want to do is sleep and con my family into waiting on me hand and foot. Why does that not work better? Oh yeah, I'm a mom of toddlers.

Informational aside: it's really hard to get vomit chunks out of a mattress cover. There must be something about the material that causes things to stick. Aren't you glad I shared this with you?

Anyway, last two things. May I show you my new throw pillows? My wonderful in-laws re-gifted some pillow cases I'd given them and they were just the thing I needed for the couch. Now I only have four more hideously fringed pillows to replace. I'm not much of a decorator, but I try to make our home cozy and functional. Picking up shedding fringe does not equate functional. I know there are pictures of said fringe pillows elsewhere in the blog if you feel the deep need to go look for them. In fact, in the past, that fringe provided a really ugly head of hair for a bald newborn Tiny. I say that like he has hair now, which is barely true. Point being that I love my new pillows and they make the living room a much happier place. It drives me crazy that the big couch's pillows don't match yet, but one step at a time, right?

And lastly, I know I've been talking about the garden a lot lately, but it makes me happy, and I also know I've been including a lot of blurry phone pictures lately, but I'm still getting a hang of the new camera phone. But here's a picture of our new flowers in all their happiness and joy. Yay for spring! Yay for rain! Yay for a kid with a green thumb! (Incidentally, I had a dream that my Pathetic House Plant burst into luxurious blooms under Little's tender ministrations--if only this would come true.) At any rate, we had more bulbs push brilliant green spikes up through the dirt last night, probably checking in on Littles who is the only one who remembers to water. It was fun to tell Littles this morning that there were more flowers waiting for him to dump more water on them. Spring makes even the sick smile.

Mom of Boys

You know how boys seem to be born with a death wish? Yes. I've noticed that too.

Yesterday afternoon the boys and I entertained ourselves by climbing up a five foot high concrete ledge and jumping off. They were doing the climbing and jumping; I was doing the catching. May I clarify that when I say "boys" I am including the fourteen month old commonly referred to in these parts as Not-So-Tiny (and occasionally Tantrum Tiny). He now has two tiny little holes in the tiny little knees of his tiny little pants from the times he decided to crawl instead of teeter precariously on his own two feet. Both boys were endlessly enamored.

And I just kept singing to myself: Be brave, little one... Make a wish for each sad little tear...

Just kidding. I really didn't morph into Penny from The Rescuers, but I did keep reminding myself of this article by Jen Hatmaker and telling myself that if I wanted brave kids, I'd better man up and be a brave mom. Still, don't you ever wish that they would wait until they've mastered basic skills like not falling before they start being brave?

Death wish, I tell you.

On that note, I want to share this horribly embarrassing story so that when Littles grows up and graduates college and becomes a stand up adult we all have plenty of dirt on him. Last night, he was exuberantly singing the clean up song as he picked up his bath toys. He put the last toy in the bucket, trilled out an expressive "Everybody do your share!!!" as he lifted both fists to the sky in a victory V, grinned proudly, and let out a beautiful string of farts. The timing could not have been more perfect. I died. I died. I really, really did.

And that is why I am a mom of boys. Because I have never moved past my middle school appreciation for potty humour.

On a more serious note, Easter is just around the corner, and in case you (like me) wonder why we go crazy and decorate for Christmas but let Easter pass with only a few cheap plastic eggs, I thought I'd share this with you:

Don't mock my pitiful little house plant. The fact that it's still alive is a miracle. I don't ask for much more. But if you're interested in the print, I found it here, and I love it. I used a frame that usually holds a Christmas picture, but, obviously, I'm not decorating for Christmas, so why waste the frame, right? If you're interested in the cat, he is free to a semi-decent home. Just kidding. But if Oswald wakes me up at four in the morning one more time (he's going on four weeks straight), we might be serving cat sate for Easter instead of the rabbit sate I had once (we ate the Easter bunny!).

Books and Anti-Rodent Snobbery

I haven't done a children's book post in a couple months, so I thought I'd whack one out really quickly while Tiny finishes his naps and Littles snuffles beside me (these colds will never end) and watches Thomas. We picked some good ones this week, and I really do credit Tiny. And since we've already read them all multiple times, we're headed back to the library this afternoon. Dinner's in the crock pot so it doesn't matter that Tiny is busting out a three hour nap of wonderfulness on what's supposed to be library day. We'll get there when we get there, and get home when we get home, and not have to worry about anything else in between.

A few of the fun books we got this week are:

OH NO, Little Dragon! by Jim Averbeck about a baby dragon who loses his internal fire spark while taking a bath. Precious illustrations and lovable story. I want a little dragon of my own now. Or the ability to incinerate my own bath toys. Maybe just the latter.

Little Cloud by Eric Carle. A friend of mine once said that all Eric Carle books are the same, and certainly he overdid the Brown Bear, Brown Bear theme, but Little Cloud was a fun way to start a conversation with the boys about the rain cycle. Tiny especially got into it... Joking. Still, Eric Carle's books are classics for a reason. All of that aside, the part of the book when Little Cloud is a clown creeped me out.

The Three SILLY Billies by Margie Palatini with illustrations by Barry Moser. The illustrations were quirky and fun with little details (Mama Bear's toe claws were painted red) that sold it, and the writing was entertaining. There were a lot of punny bits I laughed at that totally went over the boys' heads (Little Red Riding Hood says to the troll: "Oh my goodness! What a big toll you have!") plus it gave my brain a workout as I added up Jack's two cents, a wooden nickel, a thin dime, and the rest of the currency for the troll's toll. Plus, in my head, I just kept hearing my aunt saying, "Pay the troll!" as she demanded kisses from her unsuspecting nieces and nephews.

Final note, I picked up a book of Renoir paintings that the boys really enjoyed looking at with me. It's never too early start developing art snobs. That way I have reinforcements to help me gang up on The Man the next time he wants to bring home a mounted squirrel and hang it on our wall.

Never mind.

I have boys. I realize that is a fight I will lose if I try to win by majority rule. No amount of early childhood brain-washing will get them on my side. Good thing the Man loves me and recognizes the fact that I spend a lot more time hanging out between our still rodent free walls than he does.

Springness with Exclamation Points

We have buds in the garden!

And I wore shorts today!

And weeded(ish)!

And the windows were thrown open to let in buckets of sunlight and fresh air!

And there's a wreath of happiness on the front door! (That's what I was doing this weekend instead of writing, and let me tell you, I am not crafty, but that was surprisingly fun.)

And there was walking and rolled down car windows and playground time and sunny hair!

And when I picked up dog poop today it was dry instead of mushy!

...yeah...I should've skipped that one...

But anyway, it's spring! At least for today. And I will have you know, I made today count. 

Friday Favourites

Today, because it is Friday and because February has been duly survived (onwards to Spring!), I thought I'd share a few favourites with you:

• Mismatched sheets. I'm obessessed. In fact, I'm not sure I'll ever match again. Ever. Ever, ever, ever.

• Patched up joy (it's a wiggly worm!). This is what happens when Little's favourite blanket gets caught under the stroller wheels: creativity ensues at the price of one of his poo stained baby onesies that I couldn't let go of for sentimental reasons. Now, I'll have a memory of that onesie forever.

• No more diaper genie! I'm not saying no more diapers (unfortunately), only that the diaper genie bit the dust today, and really: it's just as easy to throw a diaper in the kitchen trash which gets taken out more regularly. I once heard a full diaper genie bag referred to as a plastic cover poo sausage. I've never gotten over that. I will also never get over the fact that I'm pretty sure old pee leaked out on me en route to the trash bin this morning. Shudder.
• The Easter Bunny arrived early, and then stayed put long enough so I could get three kids out of the car to see him and then take this somewhat shaky picture. He deserves a pay raise.

• Finally, for now, today I'm celebrating being a Security Forces spouse. Our squadron won best SF squadron in the AETC this year (that means nothing to you non-military people), and man, I am proud. I wanted to get a picture for you of the guys and girls in their squadron t-shirts today shoving hamburgers in and playing cornhole, but I was too busy helping Tiny dance on a table and dump water all over himself. On occasion, I still have mixed feelings about being in the military as well as being an American, but I'm always proud to be Security Forces. The Man and his troops make that easy.

I was hoping to have some other happy stuff to add to this blog after a quick afternoon shopping trip, but I was lovingly reminded that today is pay day so Walmart is going to be packed. I'm reconsidering. I'm sure there will be Friday favourites to be found elsewhere. In the meantime: happy Friday, everyone!