April 28, 2015

Drinks Are On Me!

Little kids love to help, and my twins' servant spirit is stronger than most. They love to clean toys, sweep, put dishes in the sink, and pretty much whatever else you ask them to do. In fact, there are many times I don't even have to ask.

Today was one of those days. After lunch, they took their dishes to the sink and dropped them off. Adam and I were still eating, so, I figured they'd wander off somewhere to play. A few minutes later Fox returned with a small plastic cup full of water. The cup looked suspiciously just like the cup of Cocoa Puffs Stone had earlier.

"Mom, I got you a drink."

Not wanting to crush his spirit, I took the cup. "Awe. Thank you! You are such a nice boy. Thank you for thinking of me." As I put the cup beside my plate, I could tell the water was hot. Mmmmmm. There were also various things floating in it. Double-mmmmm!

Fox hung on my leg. Waiting.

I'm a total germ-a-phobe. I wanted to smack the cup across the room to get it far, far away from me. Then, by some saving grace, Fox grabbed the cup and said, "No, I got this for Dad."

Phew!

Adam chuckled, "Wow, thanks buddy."

"You going to drink it?" Fox asked.

Adam looked into the cup. "Buddy, there's things floating in it." Adam quickly jumped up with his empty plate and ran away.

TRAITOR!

Fox climbed up in Adam's chair and peered inside the cup. "Oh, that's wood. Hold on, I'll get it."

Wood?

Fox shoved his whole fist inside the cup, displacing a good majority of the water. He pulled his hand out. "Got it!" He opened his hand and shook his head, "No, that's grass." He shook the wet grass from his hand. "Hold on, I can get it." He shoved his hand back into the cup.

Where the heck did he get this water?

He fished around and fished around, getting more and more frustrated. "I can't get it!" All of a sudden, his face lit up. "I know! I need a straw!" Fox jumped down off the chair and ran to the kitchen. He came back and threw his red straw in the cup. "Now I'll get it."

I watched as he sucked up mouth full after mouth full of water, and then he'd spit it back in the cup after being unsuccessful at sucking up the wood chunk.

Finally, he took the straw out, placed it on the table, and sighed. "Maybe I should just clean it."

I smiled, "That sounds like a very good idea." I wanted no part in putting that hot, wood, grass, fist, spit water anywhere near my mouth!

He jumped back down and ran for the kitchen. While he was gone, I tried to psyche myself up to take a little swig of water to make him happy. I knew that by cleaning, he meant rinsing it out. For me to be alright to drink it, it would have to be dumped, scrubbed, bleached, boiled, and ran through the dishwasher at least seven times.

He came back in. The cup was full and he had a big smile on his face. "This water is cold."

"Well, that's good."

He placed the cup on the table. "The cup is all wet, because I cleaned it in the bathroom."

Noooooooooo!!!! My resolve faded fast. I thought to myself, OK, one small swig of, what is most likely, toilet water. Dogs drink out of the toilet all the time and survive. No, wait! I can just keep my lips closed and make it look like I'm drinking it. That's it!

Lesson 193: Having to mentally prepare to drink water = white trash

I was finally ready to take the cup. I reached over, but right when I put my hand on the thing straight out of my nightmares, Fox snatched it out of my hand and said, "I think I need a drink."

Yes son, enjoy the fruits of your labor.






April 24, 2015

Preparing For Baby

I have a cousin who is due to have her first baby a week or so after me. I talked to my Grandma the week after my cousin's first baby shower.

"She cried, because she was so overwhelmed with all the stuff she got, she doesn't know where to put it all," my Grandma told me.

"Ha! Must be nice," I answered.

"Why? Aren't you ready for your baby to come?"

"I have a dress."

"That's it?" My Grandma sounded kind of alarmed, but it was true.

Finding her concern amusing, I told her, "Yeah, the dress is size 6-12 months, but it'll do. I also have a lot of size 5 diapers here. They might be a little big. Since we don't have a crib, we'll probably just put her to bed in a laundry basket."

My Grandma laughed, "Do you have a car-seat, or will you be bringing her home in a pillowcase?" (We're related....she gets me.)

My due date is now just a little over two weeks away. (I've had half of my kids 2 weeks early.) Am I anymore ready than I was when I talked to my Grandma a month ago? Uh, not really. We don't even have a name for her yet. (We weren't expecting a girl!)

My mother-in-law came for a visit last week and brought me 3 onesies, a couple of outfits, a bib, and some socks. She called after she left and asked if there was anything else I needed for the baby. I told her, "not really." She then started asking questions.

"Do you have a bassinet?"

"No."

"Do you have bouncy seat?"

"No."

"What about a dresser?"

"Yeah, you gave it to me, remember? The clothes you brought came in it."

She paused for a moment. "Jess, that was a cardboard box."

"And?"

.....silence......

"Jessica! A cardboard box is NOT a dresser!"

"It does the same thing. It's holding her clothes right now."

"Oh, brother. That's not going to fly with me."

(I love my mother-in-law. lol)

Memoirs of a White Trash Mom

Lesson 192: Being absolutely OK with cardboard furniture for your newborn = white trash

That's the difference between having your first baby and your tenth. I don't care about dressers. It's not important right now. The last three kids didn't have dressers until they moved to their own room. Then, they share dresser space with whoever their new roommates are.

You know who else won't care about dressers, bouncy seats, or fancy new clothes? The baby. That is the one thing I've found time and time again. All they care about, at first, is snuggling, eating, and clean diapers. The hospital sends us home with diapers, I'll be capable of feeding her at a moments notice, and there is no shortage of arms for snuggling in this house!

Did you ever watch the movie, Babies? (http://www.focusfeatures.com/babies) I at least have wipes. The mom from Namibia wiped her baby's butt with what looked like a corncob! A corncob people! In that culture, they have nothing. Not even clothes. Yet, that baby was able to thrive. Women have been having babies since the dawn of time. God equips us with everything we really need. The rest is just convenience.

Please don't think I'm saying we should all go live naked in mud huts. I'm saying more stuff doesn't make you more prepared. If you're expecting, you're physically prepared. There's no need to stress about having the latest, biggest, best, jet engine propelled baby swing. Kids like to do the unexpected, so, odds are, your new baby will hate that swing anyway.

April 20, 2015

Discomfort

I've been pregnant before. A lot. I've had twins, been a week overdue, and had gallbladder and sciatic problems during pregnancy, but this time, by far, is the most uncomfortable I have ever felt. There are several reasons for my discomfort.

One, I believe, is my age. Not that I'm old, but I had my first baby when I was an agile, muscular 19 year old. This time, I still hadn't lost all the baby fat from babies #2-9, and the most exercise I saw in a day was carrying laundry basket, after laundry basket, upstairs. When I complain about my discomfort to my doctor, he constantly reminds me I'm not a "spring chicken" anymore. I guess I've become more of a fall turkey, complete with stuffing.

Another reason I may be uncomfortable, is my clothing. I only have one pair of maternity pants. I'm not the kind of person to wear the same pants for a week without washing them. I just can't do it. So, the rest of the time, I cram myself into my normal pants, that are way too tight. Luckily, they are low-rise and can be fastened below my belly...tightly...pressing firmly on my cesarean scar. Unlucky for everyone else, they are low-rise and my butt, that has reached planet size proportions, does not fully fit in the back of my pants. I have an ample supply of not-embarrassing-at-all butt fat and plumbers crack spilling over the top, and sausage is made in a more attractive manner than me dressing myself in the morning. I wish my maternity shirts still fit, but alas, they don't. I started wearing Adam's shirts, because they are longer. He asked me the other day if I could hurry up and have this baby so I would stop stretching them out. (You can tell this is our 10th baby. Pregnancy holds no magic.)

The last reason, I am carrying extremely low. I feel as if this baby could fall out at any second. My normal gait is now a waddle, but I feel like I should be walking around on my tiptoes, like I just dismounted a horse and am about to poop myself. Needless to say, bending over is not my friend. Fate is a cruel mistress, seeing as children and the messes that go with them are all on the ground. Why can't kids throw more tantrums on top of counters or tables? Why must they throw themselves down on the floor? Why can't they leave toys on high ledges or desks? Why do they have to scatter toys on the carpet?

It wouldn't be so bad if this low-slung pregnancy didn't make me pee myself. Seriously. I sneezed last Tuesday and peed my pants. (Of course, it had to be my maternity pants.)

Lesson 190: Peeing your pants at age 35 = white trash 

I can't even pick up at the end of the night without multiple pee breaks. I average about 1 pee per every 3 bends/squats. Adam constantly tells me to just let the mess go. The sad part is, I have been letting a lot of things go. I even have my kids helping me with my chores. They do things for me on top of their own chores, and things still aren't getting done. I'm very frustrated, but my frustration pales in comparison to my sense of discomfort. SOMEONE SEND A MAID!

At this point, I'm praying for an extraordinary nesting period. I usually know when labor is imminent, because I get an uncontrollable urge to clean my fridge.

Lesson 191: cleaning the fridge = having a baby 

In this upcoming nesting period, I'm praying that God gives me the uncontrollable urge to clean the fridge, scrub floors, dust, wash windows, take out the trash before it's overflowing, clean bedrooms, wash bed linens, clean out closets, sort through a mountain of toys and throw away broken items, remove fingerprints and crayon off walls, mow the grass, clean the garage, and if at all possible, remove dead leaves from the gutters. I'm also hoping, that during all this activity, I will only have to take 1,789.25 pee breaks. That would be awesome!