Being a Grown Up.

I remember being 16, applying for jobs, and for the first time ever, having to fill out paperwork. And I remember being annoyed. Really annoyed. I also remember the thought crossing my mind to ask my mom to do it for me, but since she was a good mom, and had taught me responsibility, I knew I had to do it on my own.

But I was still annoyed.

I feel much the same way now. Only instead of a couple of pages for a job application, I have mountains of paperwork for and from my children.

It's all consuming.

It's exhausting.

As I look back, I can see how it started. Job applications, marriage paperwork, wedding thank you notes, doctor's forms, insurance documents, baby check-ups, preschool evaluations...see the progression?

Being the mom of a neuro-typical child, I think paper work is a bit annoying, but that's where it ends. Being the mom of special needs children takes the paperwork to an entirely different level. Instead of a page to fill out for the doctor, it's stacks of forms and parent evaluations. Instead of a small school registration packet, it's IEP meetings and lists, and numerous pages to sign and date.

Add in the countless trips to doctors and therapists and pharmacies, and before you know it...you're a Grown Up.

Ugh.

And you kind of realize why your 16 year old self was so annoyed. It's like she realized that those job applications were just the beginning.

Shelley

I think I got a faulty contract...

As a mom, you are not supposed to get sick.

At least that's what I think.

The last few days my allergies have taken a turn for the worse, and turned into a full on nasty cold. Now I realize it's just a cold, but still, I feel awful. To make matters worse, Austin has it too, and Ellie came down with it last night. Nights are no fun around here, what with all the coughing and tossing and turning, and yells for ...MOMMY! Yesterday evening, as I was doling out medicine like I was a pharmacist, I just put my head on the kitchen counter and said to Jason...This just sucks. He said, "Yeah. I thought moms weren't supposed to get sick. Isn't that in your contract?"

I wish!

The the thing that frustrates me the most though, is that this morning I wasn't able to go and visit my sweet friend and her two brand new baby boys. OH that makes me mad! I want to hold those sweet tiny babies that we've all been waiting on pins and needles to meet. But I'll wait, because I certainly don't want to get anyone else sick.

I'll just sit here on my couch, and wonder why my contract seems to be invalid.

I apologize in advance for the negativeness of this post...

Okay, so this has to be fast because I'm supposed to be on the treadmill. I just have to get something off my chest...


I HATE PLAY*DOH.

I know I've mentioned that before, and if I had more time, I'd find it and link to it, but I don't, so just trust me.

I had just recently begun to think that the Play*Doh was actually okay. It's provided some quiet entertainment for Annie this school year, while her sister is at school, and her brother is napping. No, I don't let Austin play with it yet. Yes, I know it's good for his motor development or something like that. But you and I both know what he would do with it. He would eat it. And even I draw the line at Play*Doh for lunch. Anyway, like I said, Annie does okay with the stuff. She's not too messy with it. She tends to get out just a tub or two and that's about it. So the Play*Doh with just Annie, not too bad.

HOWEVER.

Today the girls BOTH wanted to play with it. Naively I thought, "Well SURE! Why not!"

People. I just walked into the room where they were, and I swear....the Play*Doh EXPLODED. Along with some paint that they found in the Play*Doh box. WHICH I have no idea where THAT came from! I seriously don't know how two girls made that big of a mess is that short of a time.

So today, my hate for the Play*Doh came rushing back. I'm sorry, I know it's not nice to hate. And I realize some of you love the Play*Doh, and are shocked that someone as nice as me could harbor such resentment towards something so innocent.

But you'd understand if you could see the mess.

Now I need to go do some running to work out the rage.

I am a graceful swan...

I am mad at my front porch.

Front porches are supposed to be welcoming, inviting places that are the first impression of your home.

Or so I've been told.

Mine, however, is not so inviting.

I don't know why, but it's always filthy. I sweep it, every now and then, but in the blink of an eye, it's dirty again. I mean, how often are you supposed to sweep a porch? ( Seriously, I'm curious, how often do YOU clean your porches? ) It is a covered porch for crying out loud, it shouldn't get so dirty! Maybe it's the way the house faces (south), or maybe it's because of the trees that surround it (that's my husbands explanation), I just don't know. What I do know, is that my front porch has been a thorn in my side since we moved into this house as 22 year old newlyweds.

The dirt isn't the only reason I have issues with my porch...

Almost three years ago, I was picking up toys left on the porch by three year old Ellie. Ellie had given up on outside play, and was inside watching cartoons. Sweet Annie, who had just had her first birthday, was taking a nap. I talked on the phone to my mom as I picked up bubble wands and sidewalk chalk. I didn't realize how close to the edge I had gotten, and as I stood up from my bent over position, I got a bit dizzy and lost my balance. I remember flailing, trying to find something, anything to grab, but there was nothing. I fell backwards, head over heels, or was it heels over head? I'm not sure how many rotations I made, I just know I landed at the bottom of several concrete steps with a thud. I remember covering my head with my arms, in hopes that I wouldn't sustain a serious brain injury. My poor brain already didn't work well, what with the two babies and all, I was pretty sure it couldn't handle a concussion. I remember lying there, taking inventory...Okay, I'm awake. I hurt. What exactly hurts? I'm breathing, that's a good sign. Ellie! Where's Ellie? Oh right, in the house. Mom! She's still on the phone. Where's the phone? I hurt. I'm not sure if I can get up. Maybe if I yell for Ellie, she'll come out and bring me the phone. So I yelled at the top of my lungs for Ellie... and then I learned that you just can't count on a three year old. I finally managed to get up, and get to the phone that was three steps up. Mom was still on the line, worried sick since she could hear me yelling. She was just about to hang up and drive the 30 miles to get to me. She asked me if I was okay, and I told her I wasn't sure. I was pretty shaken up. I knew I hurt, but was having a hard time focusing on exactly what hurt. I hung up with my mom, and within a few minutes realized that I couldn't move my left arm without excruciating pain. After a trip to the doctor and some x-rays, I came home sporting a bright purple cast, in a blue sling.

I will never forget what Ellie said...

Mommy! I love your purple cactus and your blue purse!

At least someone did.

I only had to wear my purple cactus for three weeks. My arm was fractured on the inside of my elbow, and it healed quickly. Still, three weeks was a long time for a mommy of a three year old and a one year old. Oh, and in case you were wondering, Why purple? It was the only color of casting they had left.

So there you have it. My issues with my front porch. It's long and narrow, it gets dirty, it has lots of wide concrete steps that in my opinion are dangerous, and it broke my arm.

Can people go to counseling to come to terms with a bad front porch?

white water and my own personal B.

ok, so i've been meaning to post this for days now, but i've been a bit busy with all the craziness of life with my 3. i swear, they're part monkey! anyway, as austin chews on a cord at my feet, i'll attempt to tell this story. (don't worry, it's not connected to anything!)

last friday we decided to attempt white water, our local water park, with our dear friends dixie and jennifer. after 90 minutes of getting ready at home and driving to the park on the other side of town, i was already questioning my judgement to attempt this. and by the time we arrive, i'm already mentally exhausted. we arrived at the same time as dixie, and after unloading in the hot sun for 15 minutes (thank you dixie, for sunscreening my kids), we made the 104 mile hike across the parking lot to the entrance.

(pause...austin just spit up on the cord, ok, all cleaned up now. i swear he has spit up 19 times today! sorry i'm swearing so much, but remembering this story brought it out in me!)

ok, so there we are at the entrance, hot, sweaty, and tired. dixie and i and our cumulative 5 children (and the gigantic double stroller loaded to the brim with all the necessary stuff it takes to go to white water with my 3 kids) are about to enter through the first gates when Mr. Bill stops us for a "bag check."

ok, side note. for the last 3 or 4 years white water has been "tightening" their rules as to what type of food you can bring in their park. we all know they are doing this because they want you to buy their food. at first you couldn't bring "food" but you could bring snacks for the little ones. then last year they decided no snacks either. so this year i went, knowing that i couldn't have any food with me. all i had was one small soft side cooler with 2 sippy cups, 2 juice boxes, and 1 bottle of baby formula. last year, that was perfectly acceptable. so as we approach Mr. Bill (or as i now refer to him as my own personal "B".), he spies my cooler, and very loudly informs me "NO COOLERS ARE ALLOWED ON PARK." i, very firmly replied "It only has DRINKS in it." now, i'm already on edge, what with the 2 hours that it has taken me to get to this point, and i'm in NO MOOD for Mr. Bill's crap, pardon me. Mr. Bill doesn't realize that i'm no pushover yet, and says "NO COOLERS AT ALL." again i say "It ONLY HAS DRINKS." only this time i match his tone. Mr. Bill, not realizing the force that one very tired and cranky, not to mention, sleep deprived mom can be, says "The park now has a no cooler policy, EVEN FOR DRINKS." "But my BABIES milk that HAS TO STAY COLD is in here" i say. Mr. Bill says "Sorry, NO COOLERS ALLOWED." ok, so now i am TICKED! No one tells me that i can't bring in sustenance for my baby, and i mean NO ONE. i am usually a very easy going person, but sometimes i get that "listen hear mister" voice and i can get pretty mad. and this day, i was mad. so i say "You can't tell me i can't bring in my BABIES bottle." and he says "Oh, you can bring it in, just not in the COOLER." "What?" i say. he informs me that i can put everything, including the ice pack that is in the cooler, in my beach bag and bring it in that way. "Um, ok, but if it's not in the cooler, IT WON'T STAY COLD." i say. now, this is what REALLY got me, he says "THAT'S NOT MY PROBLEM." What!!!! OHHH buddy, it's about to be your problem. After a few more exchanges between Mr. Bill and I about the fact that once you take the stuff out of the cooler, it won't stay cold, and about it not being his problem, i'd had enough. i asked to speak to someone else and he motioned towards guest relations, just behind him. as i started to go to guest relations, he had the nerve to STOP me and MAKE me take everything out of my cooler. I did, and then i started for guest relations. "EXCUSE ME!" he yelled at me, "YOU CANNOT TAKE THE COOLER PAST THIS POINT." i had inadvertently forgotten that the now empty cooler was still hanging off my arm. "You have to leave it in your car." "WHAT!", I yell back, "I am NOT hiking ALL THE WAY back to my car with ALL 3 of my LITTLE kids to take an EMPTY cooler BACK TO MY CAR! he backed off slightly at that point and motioned to a place i could set the cooler, off to the side. I sat the cooler down and went straight to guest relations. there i informed a women of what Mr. Bill had just put me through. she said "Oh, he can't tell you that you can't take your babies formula IN THE COOLER in. You can, we just have to escort you and the cooler to first aid and you have to leave it there until you need it. and then you can get the formula, but the cooler has to stay there while your on park." I informed her about how ridiculous that was, but conceded because i felt i had no other option. at least she didn't yell at me. she told me that "most people choose to just leave their coolers in their cars. and go get drinks as they need them." i told her how that was just not feasible for me and my 3 kids ages 5 and under. she said she understood, but that they had to make that "cooler rule" because if other people saw my cooler they might think it had food in it and then they would be mad that they couldn't bring in their cooler.

Now, tell me something. If they check everyone's coolers at the gate WHICH THEY DO, then obviously if someone has a cooler in the park, it wouldn't have anything in it that it's not supposed to have! Right? So that explanation is completely illogical! the guest relations lady spoke to Mr. Bill and informed him of the "first aid option." But as far as i know, that's as far as my complaint got. However, I'm going to be informing White Water, as well as a couple of newspapers and television stations, about my experience. we spend hundreds of dollars every year to have season passes to all the Silver Dollar City parks, we should be treated WAY better than that.

Our day ended quickly since after one hour of water filled fun, it began to storm. Yep, after all that, we got rained out!