Ups and Downs

Yesterday we took the girls to a local amusement park. What a great day. I really wasn't expecting it to be much fun because I thought we would "suffer" through the kiddie rides then have to take turns to ride some "real" stuff. I was pleasantly surprised that both girls could ride almost everything--and they DID! At 5 and 2, the girls rode a coaster that I rode somewhere around fourth grade. . . and I remember being terrified! :) They did great. Sa, our normally apprehensive, nervous one (wonder where she gets that. . . ) didn't once question what a ride would do, or if it was scary, or how big it was. They just giggled and laughed at everything. I can't wait to go back. Who knew what we were missing.

Not to say the day was without glitches. Throughout the day, I:

made Ryan turn around not once, but twice as we tried to get out the door on time. I forgot my coffee (didn't want a headache) and then forgot to turn off the machine that made my coffee.

used a Walmart bag to catch the product of a carsick Sa. . . Thankfully she was better after we got off the curvy, hilly highway. And the rides didn't cause further destruction!

realized that after ten minutes of being at the park and hearing "I'm thirsty" twice, I had left our drinks and snacks in the car.

made three sandwiches for one child at our lunchtime picnic because two ended up on the ground. Apparently Stinkus isn't good at plate balancing yet.

realized that putting children (specifically ones named Stinkus) on a leash for future visits really isn't a bad idea after all.

rescued an open Dora umbrella from the clutches of Stinkus and a wagon wheel. I don't even know that I can explain. . .

helped stop a bloody nose on the way home--Poor Sa inherited this from her daddy. And poor Murano. Seriously, the car saw its fair share of bodily fluids this weekend.

Overall, though, it was a great day. And a reminder that life is typically like a roller coaster. Lots of ups, lots of downs, moments when we're scared, moments when we're laughing. Even when it hands you a bag of puke, life's pretty darn good.

New Chapters

Sassy (formerly known as "Sa") is starting kindergarten tomorrow. I'm on a bit of a roller coaster about it. One minute, I'm super excited for this new chapter in her life and the next, I'm sad that it's starting. I've been thinking a lot lately about my mom. I really don't think you can ever appreciate everything your mom did for you until you're doing it for your own babies. For instance, I had a little bit of sticker shock after we went school shopping. Even for our two income household, that stuff adds up! And yet, I know that I started EVERY school year with new clothes and supplies. It was never "Oh, these pencils are still good" or "Your shoes still fit." Which doesn't sound like any big deal until you stop and consider there were eight of us. And when I was a senior, seven of us were in school. I have no clue how my parents did it. I can remember going through two to three gallons of milk a day, and drinking glass after glass after glass. No one ever told us to stop. I'm sure there were days when money was tight and life was stressful, but we kids never knew. We always had what we needed. My mom has always been such an amazing, selfless person--I don't think I'll ever be able to grasp everything she gave up for us. She certainly never told us what she went without so we could have.

Everyone always says that they love to see the world again through their babies' eyes. I've realized that being a mom also allows me to see it through my mom's. At the time of my own milestones, I didn't stop and think how my mom felt. How did she feel watching me walk away? In my little knee socks up the big steps of the school bus? Across the stage of board members for my diploma? Down the aisle to the man I would marry? I never stopped to think what it meant to her. And while Sassy starting kindergarten certainly isn't about me, it IS a new chapter for me. I'm trying to not let her see my tears, fears, or nerves. I asked the other day if she was nervous and she looked at me like I had three heads. What on earth is there to be nervous about?! So I'm keeping that to myself and letting her enjoy this big moment. While it's hard, I never want her to feel guilty for doing what I pray for every day--to grow up. I give thanks every passing day that she gets to. And I give thanks to the woman who let me. I'm sure it wasn't easy to send me off to school thirty years ago, but I was ready--God had already given me the best teacher ever.

Words of Wisdom

Parenthood is definitely hard for those of us who like instant results. I love when I can cross things off my "To Do" list. (I guess this is where I should admit that I add things I've already done just for the satisfaction of crossing them off. Yes, it's sick, I know.) Anyway. . . Clean house, check. Grocery shopping, check. Laundry, check. Raising strong, well-balanced, independent, all around "good" kids. Hmmmm. Not sure when you can ever check that one off. But luckily, you get little peeks here and there that maybe, just maybe, you know what you're doing.

When we came back from vacation, I threw the girls in the tub, started the water, and left for two minutes. Then I hear blood-curdling screaming and of course, I think the worst--I'm that mother who left them unattended in the tub and someone drowned. I run down the hall and meet Sa, buck naked, screaming, and sliding on the floor. I run in the bathroom, expecting the worst, and Stinkus is happily playing in the bubbles, oblivious to the big fat frog sitting on the edge of the tub. Talk about traumatic. Days passed before Sa would go to the bathroom without crying. (I kind of feel that way too but it's because seven years after we bought this house, the toilet is still blue.) So anyway, we finally convince her that it was a one-time thing, she doesn't have to worry about a frog tub invasion. We still don't know where the little booger came from. My theory is he came in at one point with the dog, and migrated to the girls' tub toys (always a little water in the bottom of the basket) and hung out there while we were in FL. Imagine HIS poor trauma when we returned for baths!

So fast forward a few more days. The girls want to swim in their little pool outside. Which isn't a problem, but our dog is in his pen and will bark like crazy when he sees and hears us. Which means I have to go get him. Which isn't a problem, but his pen is in the woods outside our house and I might encounter a mom-eating snake. I share none of this with the girls. Only: "Man, I have to get Bo."

Sa: "Mom, how many snakes have you seen out there?" (How did she know?!)
Me: "None. . ."
Sa: "Ok, it's like the frog. There won't be any snakes down there. You can't be scared because you might see one."

Wow. How many times did she sit terrified on the blue toilet but did it anyway. . . So I bucked up and ran like a madwoman to the pen and back. No snakes. I returned breathless to my five year standing in the little pool with her hand on her hip.

"So. How many snakes did you see?" She smirked.

I wasn't sure whether to be angry that she was being so sassy or proud that she's listening to what I say after all and taking it in. I'm going with #2 and checking it off the list. . . for today at least. Tomorrow's a whole other day.