mother of the year takes shoeless kid to Walmart to buy, well, shoes...

It was a sitcom kind of morning at the Wilkison household. I cannot shake this cold that I caught from my germ ridden  loving boys. The older I get the less my asthma bothers me, but give me a cold and it kicks right back in. I was up during the night with an asthma attack which found me rummaging around in my sock drawer for an inhaler. And before you judge me about keeping meds in the sock drawer let me tell you that I used to keep my inhaler in my nightstand, before the kids and their hands that touch everything came along.

Thursday is one of the two week days that both my boys go to daycare/preschool. Both my boys. Gone. All day. I get to be home, alone.  No diapers to change. No demands for juice. No playing with cars on the floor or singing Itsy Bitsy Spider 17 times in a row. I love my boys and this unplanned time at home with them has been a true blessing. I cherish my time with them. But like everyone else, I still need a break. So I live for Thursday. Nothing will stop me from driving those two boys to that school. How far will I go? This morning I nearly had to teach my big four and a half year old how to dial 911, and I actually dragged the boys into Walmart, one wearing only socks on his feet, to buy a pair of shoes to replace the pair missing in the sea of toys in our living room. I am exhausted just thinking about it.

In one hour this morning I managed to:

• take enough asthma medicine to feel as though I ran a marathon.
• feed my babies cheese puffs, fruit gummies, and Halloween candy for breakfast. (don't judge me. I worked hard to get them to school by morning snack time, which included apples today, so if we count that they also had fruit.)
• tear through my living room, which is covered in toys, looking for the baby's shoe. he is wearing hand me down shoes and currently only one pair of my older son's shoes fit him, so if we lose these shoes, well, that is how you end up racing through Walmart at top speed.
• race through an empty Walmart, at top speed,  with the tiny toddler in the cart seat and the big four and a half year old race walking next to me, repeating "Mommy, I can't walk this fast. Mommy slow down!". The tiny toddler must have sensed the urgency because he did not attempt to stand up in the cart, his usual trick, one time. oh, and while I was there I remembered why I dislike Walmart so. Even empty that store annoys me.
• get my boys to school before 8:45 am, with coats, shoes, and lunches. score!

I feel much better now but I'm not going to chance it. I'm going back to bed...

again with the "got dead" theme

My big four and a half year old came home from preschool yesterday with red dots and blue lines drawn, in marker, on his hand. He proudly pointed to his art work and explained that he drew the flag for "America and all the people who got dead". Again. Again with the "got dead" theme. This obsession of his has been with us since September 11th and it doesn't look like it is going away anytime soon.

We sat him down and explained, in truly preschool terms, what happened on that fateful day ten years ago. He was planning to go to the Cleveland Browns football game on the anniversary of the tragic events and we knew that the NFL would surely be putting on some sort of remembrance. We thought it best to mention it to our son before he heard it from someone else, so to speak. I don't think we even said that anyone died. But kids are intuitive. And they overhear a lot more than we think they do. So who knows where he heard the rest of the story - from us, mommy and daddy? From the day care teachers? From the news playing in the background of his life in the living room or the car?

So each day he comes home from school with a new picture he colored. Like the picture he drew of the monster trucks painted red white and blue. And the page full of butterflies - a yellow one for mommy, a purple one for love, a green one for gravedigger and a red one for the people who got dead. sigh. (don;t know who gravedigger is? concerned I am opening my child's sponge like brain to terrible things? click here.) he is bordering on obsession. And it is freaking me out.

He doesn't seem bothered by it. I ask him if he is sad about what happened, or if he is worried that it might happen again. And he says no. So maybe I just have a very compassionate little guy on my hands. And I know he is getting to that age where all the obsessions start. He can already name every monster truck. He can tell you the mascot for every NFL football team. He can quote lines from both "Cars" movies. This boy is not a newbie to obsessions. But because this newest one centers around people "getting dead" it worries me a little.

It's funny, really. I am no different than anyone else in America who wasn't touched personally by the events of September 11. I followed the news. I felt horrible - just terrible for the families who lost loved ones. I worried about the future and didn't like the thought of being in a large crowd, for fear of another attack. But eventually I turned the TV off and went back to my life. And when the 10th anniversary rolled around I registered it, I thought about where I was when I heard the news and how I was still living in my apartment in Akron where Brad and I eventually had to turn off the TV just to stop the constant barrage of coverage. Yes, I registered it. And I moved on. Life is here, in the moment. I have two small boys, one of whom is learning English and requires lots of extra patience to deal with his moods and frustrations.  I have a household to run and the mom taxi to drive. I have meals to shop for and prepare and a husband to keep track of. Oh, and I have a thousand verses of We Are the Dinosaurs to sing. That alone takes up most of my day.

But my big four and a half year old seems to have plenty of time to think about America. My big four and a half year old who is not even American by birth is currently being a better patriot than his mommy. And his desire to wave the flag, and draw the flag, and talk about the flag- he didn't get that from me. My travels around the world have made me totally appreciate my life here in this country, that much is true. But I am not over the top patriotic. So a part of me is proud of my little guy. So so proud. And maybe I shouldn't worry about this obsession with the people who "got dead". Maybe next month I'll be looking back at this obsession fondly, as I live through his next one. I have a feeling it is just beginning...

four weird things and christmas planning

Yesterday was a weird day, all around. After seeing my boys off to daycare, preschool and work I drove up to Brimfield. I'll wait while you consult a map and figure out where the heck Brimfield is. Got it? I was making this 2 1/2 hour trip to meet the junk guy at my mother's home. Somewhere between the death of my father a little over ten years ago and her move to an assisted living two years ago my mother managed to turn her small cape cod home into a mess that would rival the set of "Hoarders". Everything in that home was important to her, much of it purchased via late night television shows. Credit cards can be very dangerous in hands attached to an Alzheimer' addled brain.

My sister and I had already removed any items we wanted and there was still what appeared to be an entire household there. So we called 1-800-GOT-JUNK to haul it all away. They arrived with three men and a huge truck, which,believe it or not, was not large enough. Their customer service, however,was really great. So I was watching my mother's belongings being shoved onto a truck; her life, basically being thrown away. It was surreal. But there was nothing left in that house I wanted. We already walked away with the old family photos, all the cleaning supplies, fifty roles of toilet paper, and one juicy family secret. Surprised? Just wait. If you have not yet had to clean out your parents' home just wait. There are secrets lurking in that attic or basement...

So the junk removal was weird. The nosy neighbor who wanted to take everything in Mom's home was weird. I actually saw him taking stuff off the junk truck. What is he going to do with two sets of cheap knives and three table lamps that don't work? I feel bad for his children. Cleaning out his home is going to be challenging...

The earthquake was weird.

I stopped by my sister's house to drop off a few item before I left town. After playing with her sweet dogs the little one went off by himself and started barking and growling to himself. That was weird.

And then, after my long day I received a call while driving home that was more than a little weird. It seems that my new job, which was to begin in a few weeks, has now been pushed off another month due to "restructuring". Great. I am now officially unemployed.

God doesn't throw us more than we can handle, so I know this will all work out. Here's what I will be doing while I wait for my potential new job to start:

• hunt for another job, just in case something else goes wrong with the one I already have. Which really is a bummer, because the job I thought I was starting seemed like a perfect fit for my expanded family.
• pull the new little guy out of daycare, which he just started less than a month ago. Keep him home with me, part time, at least. OK, I am kind of excited about this!
• learn to stretch a dollar. even. further. This kind of sounds challenging.
• Clean out every closet in the house. This sounds horrible.
• Start planning for Fall and the upcoming Holiday season. To do this I am reading an advance copy of "100 Days to Christmas". I have been asked to write a review of this e-book so stay tuned.  It is a collaboration between the author and ListPlanIt.com, one of my favorite list making and planning websites. This new planning couldn't have come at a better time; now that we have two kids and one job (one and a half?),this is the year to plan, budget, and make it great!

Woody & Buzz are weeping in his underwear drawer while I do ALL the work

This morning I hopped out of bed, brushed my teeth and put my glasses on and headed over to the big four and a half year old's bedroom to get him ready for school. (we call day care "school" in our house.) Every morning we follow the same routine; I rummage through the t-shirt drawer pulling out shirt after shirt while my child lays in bed like a little prince turning each selection down. Eventually I say "pick one. NOW." Sometimes I say "You're wearing THIS ONE." We then complete this same silly dance for shorts and, believe it or not, underwear. It's underwear, dude. JUST. PICK. A. PAIR. Suddenly he won't wear any of his underwear that doesn't advertise the Cars franchise. I think I heard Woody and Buzz weeping quietly in the underwear drawer the other day...

I then haul him out of bed, literally. I pick up all 38 pounds of him, stand him upright in front of me, and help him get dressed. That's right, I admit it. I help my big four and a half year old get dressed every day.  Now I know he can do this himself. On days that he wakes up before we do he always gets dressed before leaving his room. After church he can't wait to run upstairs and change his clothes. So he is capable of getting dressed without my help. But this time we have spent together every school morning has been special to both of us. I enjoy this Matthew & Mommy time, and I know that Matthew enjoys it also. But lately it hasn't been as much fun, for me at least. The fight over what to wear, the fight to get him out of bed, all while his little brother is calling to me from his crib down the hall... it's adding stress to our house in the mornings that we just don't need. I'm sad to say it, but my big four and a half year old is going to have to start dressing himself. And he is not going to be happy about it. But I have a plan...

Tomorrow morning I am going to take a photo of him completing his morning routine. I'll get one of him dressing, one of his breakfast. I'll take a picture of him brushing his teeth with his new "big boy" toothpaste, which he hates, (he loves brushing his teeth, it is the new toothpaste he hates.) I'll snap a photo of him putting on his shoes and walking out of the front door carrying his lunch box and bag. (something else he doesn't like to do and has now learned that little brother will carry things for him.) Then I'll make a little book for him- I'm thinking of putting the pictures on a big ring so he can easily flip through them. That is step one.

Step two: he will now have to decide what to wear the night before so we can lay it out on his chair. Sounds easy, but for some reason I feel this is going to be a difficult step, like I'll just be replacing my morning frustration over pulling every shirt out of the drawer with a new evening frustration of pulling every shirt out of the drawer.

No matter what else he might eat for breakfast my big four and a half year old almost always eats a granola bar every morning. So I will lay one out on the kitchen table the night before and if he is dressed and ready before I am done with his brother he can go downstairs on his own and start his breakfast. He is not allowed to go downstairs alone in the morning so I am hoping this will be a big enough draw for him to want to get dressed on his own.

 Thank goodness I work from home most days. If I had to get dressed and pulled together enough to leave the house in the morning and head to an office I would have to be getting out of bed at the crack of dawn. And that is just not going to happen. I can see the writing on the wall. If I don't get a handle on this now then I might be helping my high schooler get dressed every morning. or worse yet, helping two high schoolers get dressed every morning!

It is not going to be easy. My Matthew is a creature of habit and change is not easy for him. He loves his Mommy and Matthew time and he is not going to be pleased that I am now helping his little brother in the morning instead of him. But my 2011 goal was to create a calmer family environment, so it has to be done. Stay tuned...