I am Michelle D. Carter

In our household, the rule is you can pick one extra-curricular activity. ONE AND ONE ONLY!! First of all, I don’t feel the need to be gone each and every night running this kid to that and then that kid to this, only to do the same thing over and over again, night after night.

After our move to South Carolina, we sat down with Alyssa and asked her what she wanted to pursue. We gave her the options of: swimming, the girl is a freakin’ fish, I’m telling you! Karate, she was participating in karate before we moved and she seemed to be enjoying it. She was earning her different belts and I think secretly enjoyed learning how she could kick the crap out of someone if she needed to. Hmm, maybe I should sign up for karate. Or gymnastics. Instead of walking, she’d rather cart wheel her way through life. The winner: gymnastics.

We then sat down with the boys and asked them what they wanted to do. We gave them the options of: gymnastics because sissy was doing it and we had to provide that as an option to them or soccer. They had been pretty active in soccer and I thought they like doing it even though they weren’t the stars of the team. Plus their prior coach wanted us to keep them in soccer so we could eventually do the same tournaments together. Whew! That’s a pretty big expectation for six year olds but none the less we would have obliged had the boys wanted to. The winner: gymnastics.

Sweet! I was able to schedule their classes on the same night within a half hour of each other. One night, an hour and a half, one facility AND done!!

At the beginning of class, the teacher comes to the doors (no parents are allowed in the gym) and calls their names. This past week, the boys’ regular teacher was taking a class and there was a substitute. When this different guy shows up and begins to babble to my boys that I THINK YOU GUYS ARE PROBABLY IN MY CLASS, I’m thinking WHO ARE YOU? AND DON’T YOU THINK IT WOULD BE NICE IF YOU AT LEAST TOLD US WHAT WAS GOING ON? GRANTED, I’LL BE UPSTAIRS WATCHING YOUR EVERY MOVE BUT I DON’T KNOW YOU AND YOU EXPECT ME TO JUST HAND OVER MY KID?! Well… yes, that is the expectation.

I calm myself down and realize that if he’s there teaching the class, he should be OK. And I’ll be watching from above anyway. I WILL BE WATCHING YOU!

But, before he can snatch my babies and run into the night, Andy asks with total authority and grown up intuition, “Who is this guy?”

I was so proud! I have taught them well. If you don’t know, just ask! If it doesn’t feel right, you have every right to question it. Good job my little bug-a-boo!

I am simply amazed at the determination Andy puts forth on a project that he wants to do. Note: A PROJECT HE WANTS TO DO. If it is project that includes helping Dad, then even better.

A while back our towel rods that I had ordered arrived. Andy immediately knew that Dad would be putting them up on the weekend. He was all DAD, I WANT TO HELP YOU. DO I GET TO HELP? WHEN DO WE GET TO PUT THEM UP? ALEX, YOU CAN’T HELP. JUST ME.

The weekend rolled around and Tim was suffering with a sinus infection. He loaded himself up with drugs in hopes of alleviating the pain long enough to put up the towel rods. DAD, WHEN ARE WE GOING TO PUT UP THE THINGYS? IS IT TIME YET? DAD, CAN WE DO IT NOW? WHAT ABOUT NOW? ALEX YOU STILL AREN’T HELPING. WHAT ABOUT NOW? NOW? NOW?

Finally after lunch, the boys started working. They had their groove. Daddy drilled the holes. Andy screwed the bases into the wall. Dad then placed the bars on. Andy finished by using the Allen wrench to tighten the rod on the base.

He worked with Dad the whole afternoon. He didn’t care that the other kids were outside playing. He was happy and content working on the project with Dad. Just look at the determination on his face. He worked until all the rods were hung. He had completed his task.

I think he got this from me. I was a bit freaky growing up. For fun on the weekends I would clean out my closet. I would also refold my clothes. Even though there wasn’t anything wrong with the way they were folded in the first place. Each figurine, keepsake and picture had its perfect place. I would spend hours in my room making sure everything was just right! It didn’t matter that it was a nice day and the other kids were outside playing. I was happy and content in my own little world making everything perfect. Maybe I was this way because it was the one thing that I could control. And while in control, I was happy.

The boys love to pick flowers for me. It is such a sweet sentiment!

Yet, we’ve had to have the discussion that they can’t pick flowers from my yard. And you certainly can’t pick flowers from anyone else’s yard. Unfortunately we have had this conversation SEVERAL times.

Then they started picking weeds. You know dandelions, clover and whatever else they could find. I would politely thank them and they’d run outside and play. I thought I would be sneaky and toss them in the garbage expecting them to forget about the little treasures they had so delicately gathered especially for me.

That would work for a little while, but as they got older, they would remember. Hey Mom, where are the flowers I picked for you? Crap! Don’t I feel like an ass?!! They just wanted to show me how important I was to them and I tossed that in the garbage.

A few weeks ago Andy brought in a “flower” he had picked for me. It was a weed with thorns AND the root. I’m not sure how he didn’t hurt himself. As the dirt was being spread across my clean counter and he was all like Mom, you need to get it in water RIGHT NOW so it won’t die.

I delicately said THERE IS NO WAY I’M KEEPING THAT DAMN WEED IN THE HOUSE.

The next morning, bright and early, Andy and I headed off to the grocery store and I let him pick a bunch of flowers for me. BOTH of us were happy!

I wrote this post a little over a year ago. Andy finds comfort in sucking his thumb. I didn’t mind it too much at first because I know it is something that little kids/babies will do. Then it became a constant. I think his thumb was permanently attached to his mouth only coming out long enough to put food in it. And as the gap in his teeth grew, enough was enough. After many attempts, we HAD, yes HAD, to put the appliance in his mouth. Approximately three or four months after he broke it, we HAD, yes HAD, to put it BACK in.

After six to eight months and the impending move to South Carolina, we decided to have the appliance removed again. It was supposed to be a fresh new start. He was doing great. There wasn’t any thumb sucking. We would congratulate him but not too often as we didn’t want to remind him of it either. All was well!

The move was stressful on all of us. However, about three or four weeks of school, Andy had reached his breaking point and the thumb sucking has resumed. I can’t begin to tell you how frustrated, pissed off and utterly disappointed I am. All that effing work down the tubes. His teacher has told me that he pretty much sucks it constantly at school. It’s only when he looks at her AND SHE SHAKES HER HEAD NO that he finally takes it out. Last week at gymnastics, I saw him suckling away. I am in the balcony behind glass and unable to yell at him to stop! My heart drops and I feel like such a failure.

While it may seem that I am a heartless bitch, I AM NOT! Repeat, I AM NOT A HEARTLESS BITCH! Yes, I am upset that we haven’t been able to completely kick this horrid habit. I am mostly saddened that Andy has recommenced his thumb sucking to console himself. That the poor little guy has done his best to cope with all that his parents have thrown at him and to deal with it… well, a little thumb sucking is needed. He is not a bad kid secretly inflicting chaos on his parents. He is adjusting to a major upheaval in his life the best way he can.

It broke my heart when he asked his Dad, “When are we moving back home?”

As the weight of the world rests on this little six year-old boy, he chooses to find comfort the only way he knows how. It IS better than taking out his aggression on the neighborhood animals.

But what am I going to do? The thumb sucking will cause bedlam with his teeth and speech. Something we are already struggling with. If I have the appliance re-installed, it will affect his speech as well. Not to mention having to watch him eat with the damn thing in his mouth. The best one to watch is a nice fresh peanut butter sandwich – eewww!

Now where is the instruction booklet on this kid?!??!!!

I’m going to piggy back off of yesterday’s post. While the bowls are awesome, they are definitely for kids. And if an adult was to use one, I would say they had issues that were mostly likely addressed at the psycho ward. OK, alright, that [psycho ward] is exactly where I found them [the bowls]. I was able to smuggle a couple out as I was released.

When we moved to South Carolina, I made a decision. I dumped the dishes we were using and decided that our good dishes were now going to be our every day dishes.

Like all brides registering for gifts, we had picked our good dishes. When we were registering, at least I had sense enough to register for dishes that could go in the dishwasher. I thought if I’m going to have that many people over and cook for all of them, the last thing I would want to do is to wash all those freakin’ dishes by hand.

As we approached our twelfth wedding anniversary, our good dishes were probably used twelve times. It seemed silly to me to have dishes that were nice. With bowls that were easier to drink out of. And NOT be using them. It reminds me of Erma Bombeck’s infamous quote If I Had My Life to Live Over. Well, Erma, I don’t have good dishes anymore, and that’s mighty fine by me. Because every day is a good day when you have your family near.

I swear this is the best invention EVER!!!! I SO wish I had invented it. I’d be laughing in Donny Deutsch’s face. OK, maybe not. But I think it’s pretty incredible.

The bowls we were previously using had a very wide mouth on them. It was difficult for me to drink from them, let alone the kids. At breakfast every morning, I was cleaning more milk up off my clothes, the kids’ clothes, the table and the floor than what I ACTUALLY poured in the bowl in the first place. SERIOUSLY, I’m not joking here.

One day, at the grocery store, I stumbled upon these little treasures. There it was! Plastic bowls with A STRAW ATTACHED TO THE SIDE OF THE BOWL!! The room darkened and the disco ball lowered as angels sang.

Now when they finish their cereal, they simply use the straw and suck it up. No more crying over spilt milk. Awe, yes, breakfast is much better.

Now what can I invent and make millions????

So often I feel that I don’t give my daughter enough time. Ever since the boys were born, she’s been pushed aside and the boys have taken priority. Obviously, newborns are going to need more attention. However, the boys are now older but the cycle continues and I want to stop it. She’s still young and is about to embark on the t’ween years. Girls, in general, are mean. And things are a lot different than when I was growing up. I think the girls are MEANER. I am going to need to spend more time with her to help her cope through these difficult years. I need to help raise her self esteem so when the MEAN GIRLS make comments and do things, she can handle herself with respect and pride.

As I was lying in bed the other night, thinking about her, I decided to write her a note. It said: Alyssa, You are very wonderful and special girl. I am proud of you. I love you!! Mom.

The other morning I woke to the note below lying on my nightstand. Looks like we are off to a good start! I love you, Alyssa!!

Wow! Where has this week gone? Sorry for my absence but I was feeling a bit under the weather. Monday and Tuesday, after I dropped off the kids at school, I came home and went back to bed. Tim was sweet enough to offer to help make the bed on Tuesday. I told him, “Nope, not necessary.” I think he was secretly jealous that I had the opportunity to rest.

Last night I was watching TV when I heard crying upstairs. I paused the TV to make sure I wasn’t hearing things. Sure enough, crying. All the emotions and anxiety of middle of the night feedings came rushing back. I think my boobs even ached as they filled with milk. WAIT A MINUTE! I haven’t had to get up in the middle of the night for feedings for almost six years and the well has long dried up.

I run up to find Alex rolling around crying. Andy’s sitting up trying to figure out what is going on as well.

Me: “Alex, what’s wrong?”

Alex: “WAAAAAAAAA!”

Me: “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

Alex: “WAAAAA!”

Me: “ALEX! I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

He quiets down and mumbles something that is inaudible. Andy lies back down and is passed out as soon as his head hits the pillow.

I carry my boy who weighs considerably more than he did six years ago into the spare room to rock him. He instantaneously falls back asleep. I rock him for a few more minutes, totally taking advantage of holding him in my arms. I love snuggling with my kids and know that before I know it, they’ll be off on their own.

I carry him back to bed and he wakes up.

Me: “Alex, are you OK?”

Alex: “Yeah.”

Me: “Do you remember waking up crying?”

He mumbles, rubs his eyes and extends his arms for a hug. Oh how I love that!

Me: “Do you want me to stay with you until you go back to sleep?”

Alex: “Mom, I’ll be faking it.”

I giggle and give him a hug and kiss. See you in the morning, little man.

Alyssa is now next to me asking: “Why was Alex crying?”

Me: “I don’t know and I’m sure he doesn’t either.”

This morning when I wake them up, I ask Alex if he remembers the waking up last night.

Alex: “No.”

He crawls in my lap and begins to cry.

Me: “Why are you crying now?”

Alex: “I want you.”

Doesn’t that just warm your heart? So sweet! Daddy came up and turned those tears into giggles. But not before I got lots of hugs. LOVE IT!! A Mom can never get enough love from her children. As they grow and the frequency lessens, I take it anyway I can get it!