100 Days

Last week, Sassy celebrated her 100th Day of School.

I don't remember observing this growing up, but apparently it's a BIG deal. They begin the count-"up" on the very first day, and the whole occasion revolves around a "100" theme. Each student took in a Ziploc of 100 items, the first graders dressed like they were 100 years old, and they did all kinds of "100" activities (see Baby Sister pic below.)

Cute stuff. And honestly. . .it's more than just cute. It
IS a big deal. When I sat back and thought about it, my baby girl has changed a LOT in 100 days. She's grown physically of course (Oops, Mom's behind on laundry, these pants aren't too short if you tuck them into your boots. . .) but she's learned SO much in 100 days. And I thought, who better to ask about what she's mastered than Sassy herself. So, in her own words:

What Sassy has learned in 100 days:
to read first grade books (This mama is SO proud!)
to tie my shoes
to get on the bus ("And where to get OFF the bus," she smirked. Very important skill as she got a tour of our entire county on Day 1 after not getting off at her stop.)
blend slides (Again, we didn't call it this when I was in school)
to pump myself on the swings
how to work a computer
how to be good in the library
what popcorn chicken is ("When you first read it to me, I didn't know what that was!")
to try new things in the lunchroom
that kids can have different colors of skin (Wow...)
how to play basketball on your bottom on a scooter. And hockey.
to listen to the teacher so you don't have to turn a card. (She broke her streak just this past month and both card-turns were TRAUMATIC. She came right home and tearfully confessed her guilt--let's hope that continues well into the teenage years.)

I tried to get her to say something about Chicken Boy but she just rolled her eyes at me. Pretty sure THAT will continue into the teenage years as well. . .

I'm so proud of the progress she's made, and the little lady that she's growing into. It's hard to believe that she's more than halfway through her first year. Even better is that this is just the beginning. What will the next 100 days bring?

Sunday Mornings

Once again, I'm starting my blog with a thank you to my parents. EVERY Sunday (unless someone was puking) my parents loaded all of us up and we went to mass. EVERY Sunday. And when I was younger, it was an 8:00 am mass. Did I mention we went EVERY Sunday? I credit them with my faith today. I'm so grateful for growing up in a religious, faith-based home. It's made me who I am, and hopefully, I'm passing that on to my girls. And now, as with other blog posts, after the thank you to Mom and Dad comes: How in the he&$ did you survive?! I can barely make it through our 9:30 mass with a fourth of the children my parents had. It's like a three ring circus every Sunday. I know we regularly provide comic relief for the "lucky" souls who sit behind us. And the things I've learned in mass. . . Stinkus can chuck a crayon three pews ahead of us and manage not to hit anyone. Don't interrupt Sassy when she's feeding her baby: "But Mommy!!!! Da baby's eating from my BOOOOOBIE!" (Extra emphasis and volume on "Boobie.") Tiny bodies can crawl away under pews. The quiet time after Communion is the PERFECT time to break out in a rousing rendition of "Jingle Bells." Telling Daddy, "I take YOU outside and pank YOUR bottom!" makes it really hard for Daddy to keep a straight face.

Someone is always hot, or hungry, or thirsty. Or we've packed the coloring books but no crayons. Someone wants held, or put down, or held again. If nothing else, wrestling little people makes for a good workout. I really don't know how my parents did it.

Sassy's getting easier and more involved now that she can read. She loves to follow along with the readings and boy, can that girl sing. She hasn't quite figured out volume control though and she belts out songs in her loudest voice, oblivious to the grins and chuckles she's getting. Today I had to tell her that it was "people of good WILL," not good health, though that's important too. :) The "Alleluia" response gets both of them competing for a non-existent "Who Can Sing the Loudest" contest; even better is when Stinkus continues after everyone else has stopped.

And despite how worn out, tired, and frustrated I get, it all seems worth it at the end of mass when both are shouting "Father, Son, and Holy Spirit" and doing something that better resembles some crazy baseball signs rather than the Sign of the Cross. But they'll get it. And they ARE getting it. Every Sunday.

To Pee or Not to Pee

Every time I go shopping, I optimistically think it will be my last time to buy diapers. That was numerous boxes ago. I know now why it's called "training." She can, and she has, but there is absolutely no consistency to it. It's pretty clear that the "training" refers to us. She'll run and hide when it's time for numero dos, yelling, "Not look at me!" then moments later return with a diaper, wipes, and a command: "I pooped. Change my diaper. Now." Sure thing. I'll get right on it.

I've tried. I tried a sticker chart. She earned two stickers, then later ripped them off, found different stickers and proceeded to stick them randomly all over the chart. Which did not settle well with her Type A mama and older sister. I tried candy, which worked for awhile until I started using chocolate instead of Smarties. The chocolate didn't last long in this house (her parents have NO self-control) so when she discovered that all we had was Smarties, game over. I could buy more chocolate but let's be honest, it wouldn't be used for potty-training. I've tried holding her on there--especially after she stays dry ALL night. It worked a few times. The other times there was pee all over my floor. At least in a diaper, it's contained. Santa even brought big girl Dora panties which she's worn once. You can probably guess why we haven't pulled them out again. She just has no interest. "You wanna sit on the potty?" Her answer both cracks me up and infuriates me: "No fanks, Mom!" At least she's polite. I keep thinking that one day it will all just click. She knows what's she's doing (did I mention she brings us a diaper and wipes?) but apparently it's gonna have to be on HER terms. (I'm foreseeing a lot of that in her future. . .)

I told her the other morning that I was tired of changing diapers. "I bet Katie wears big girl panties."
"Yep, her does." I'm not sure she could be any more nonchalant and unaffected. "Wouldn't you like to wear big girl panties too?"
"Nope, not yet, Mom."
"Seriously! WHEN?" Totally exasperated.
She holds up three fingers and gives me the matter-of-fact answer: "When I free."

I'm hoping it doesn't take that long. June is still five months off. I'm trying to remember that someday I will miss having a "baby" and that she's already growing up faster than I want. But I'm still hoping that our next box of diapers is our last.

Dirty Little Secrets

Before kids, I used to turn my nose up at dirty coats, dirty lovies, and dirty cars. How on earth does a kid's coat get so filthy? And how does a beloved stuffed animal get SO disgusting?! Oh, how fabulous my words taste now. It's hard enough to keep kids' coats clean--but then Stinkus uses hers as a napkin if it's draped on the back of her chair when we go out to eat. Unfortunately, I never remember she does this until we're out in public and she has big greasy handprints all over it. Lovely. And now I understand why all those lovies I used to see were so gross--they were loved. We have one lovey whose tag has been completely rubbed off (where exactly did it go?) and Day-day just STINKS. And then my poor car. . . I'm almost afraid of what I would suck up if I ever decided to drag the Shop Vac out. Dropped Goldfish, broken crayons, plastic rings, smashed Trix, and don't even get me started on the crumbs. And let's not forget the entire cup of milk that was spilled down behind the backseat--without a way to get to it. We drove everywhere with the windows down for WEEKS. It's the car I always swore I would never have.

But in my defense, it's hard to clean. We love our SUV, with one exception: if you drop anything between the seats and the console, you can kiss it goodbye. I've spent way too many minutes of my life trying to squeeze my hand down there to retrieve some coveted object. I'm almost convinced that we're broke because there HAS to be at least a million dollars down there we've dropped. :) So today, after work, when I was sitting in my car, ready to pull out, and my keys were missing--there was only one place they could be. So I took a deep breath, tried to make my fingers skinnier (it doesn't work) and plunged my hand down. First object found: a Sonic tator tot from last week that didn't look too bad... No, I didn't. But I was shocked at how good it looked--artificial preservatives at their best! Three tator tots later, the keys were found and Sassy was giggling uncontrollably at me.

Me: Big sigh. "Why is our life SO crazy?!"
Sassy: "I don't know!" Big giggles. "But it sure is fun."

Amen, sister. Now to find that million dollars.

Our Year in Review

I think most of us are guilty of looking ahead to the next “big” thing--what better time than now? With 2012 approaching, it's easy to get caught up in the possibilities of a new year and the anticipation of things to come. However, by always looking ahead, we tend to miss what's happening RIGHT NOW. And even though I didn't see it at the time, we had a pretty big 2011 around here.

Our Top Ten Moments of 2011:
1. Sassy was a flower girl in Aunt Mo's wedding. And we were thrilled to have Uncle Bear join our crazy brood. What a beautiful day! Our apologies to the numerous guests who had food stolen off of their plates by Stinkus. We really do feed her. But you saw her on the dance floor—a girl's gotta keep her energy up somehow!

2. R and I had birthdays that aren't milestones to anyone but me--but being as close to 40 as 30 is a big deal to this mama. 40?!?! Seriously?! However, I got carded yesterday at a local convenience store so I think I'll ROCK 40. :) Stay tuned for BIG bashes in five (almost four, gulp) years!!!

3. We welcomed our nephew K into the world and were SO grateful he took his own sweet time getting here. We are SO happy for Uncle M, Aunt S, and Big Sis M. Thank you, God, for answered prayers!

4. After three years, I (FINALLY) got my braces off! Definitely worth waiting for!

5. We thought about moving and then realized we have everything we want here. Lots of square footage, our own “park” outside, and a blue toilet.

6. R and I celebrated ten years of marriage by spending eight days in Florida. It was such a great time. The girls had a blast too—they got eight days of being spoiled rotten by their grandparents and aunties. :)

7. Sassy started kindergarten! She LIVES for school and honestly gets mad when a Saturday rolls around and—heaven forbid—she has to stay home with us. I think Stinkus is enjoying going to the sitter alone. The only person to tattle on her for daily timeout in the corner is herself (and yes, she pointed out to me one day which corner was hers. Nice.)

8. R started a new (and hopefully last!) career. We're SO proud of him and the difference he makes in patients' lives.

9. Stinkus moved to a big girl bed. I can remember saying when she was a baby: "WHEN will she stop crying every morning?" Well, she's stopped. The other morning I woke to a sweet little voice singing her own version of "Jingle Bells." Of course, that was before she came barreling into my room at 100 mph shrieking: "I wake up NOW?!" And someday, I will miss this too. . .

10. We went into debt with a surgery I had on my leg. Darn insurance deductibles going UP. :( I had a vein that was hurting me and it was a long time coming. Oh well. I'm hoping that I'll stop feeling nauseous about the money when I'm wearing shorts again next summer for the first time in YEARS.

We're wrapping up the year and excited for everything 2012 will bring:
a new niece or nephew
(hopefully) our last box of diapers
Daddy's certification
shorts!
1st grade
fewer timeouts in the corner?

Even better--everything that we don't know about yet! May you all have a blessed 2012!

Things We Learned This Christmas

1. Telling Daddy, "NO, YOU be quiet!" during Christmas Eve mass gets you taken outside--fast.

2. The only way to truly see Baby Jesus is to Communion line-jump and run right up to the nativity scene. You can top it all off by yelling: "Mommy! I see Baby Jesus!" when you've been corralled back to the pew.

3. Despite Santa's efforts to find THE perfect gift, the beloved favorite will be a $5 flashlight.

4. Orange Julius tastes better if you add the sugar.

5. Santa comes even if you've been naughty, and he remembers stuff you forgot to write on your list. What a guy!

6. However, he doesn't come again on Christmas night if you missed seeing him on Christmas Eve.

7. In a few years, Christmas Vacation is gonna get some big laughs. Sassy LOVED the opening scene with the tree on the car. And we decided that was probably enough for now. . . :)

8. Sister's presents are always cooler, "shared" gifts aren't always shared, and even if you have the exact same gift, there will STILL be fighting.

9. Digital cameras used by little people = being caught in some not-so-flattering shots. Note to self: Lock the door when changing to avoid future pictures without pants. . . .

10. Despite their name, bathtub crayons do not easily wipe off of the tub. Thanks, Santa. Not one of your better purchases.

11. It's ok to have M&Ms before breakfast.

12. In the future, Santa should drink EVERY last drop of milk because it's fair game the next morning. Yes, she tipped it up. GROSS.

13. We were spoiled with a 7:30 wake-up call. (I heard of some kids who were up at 2 am! WHAT?!) Anyway, girls, just know that you're setting the bar high. Next year, we're aiming for 8.

14. The best way to end the day (and melt Mom's heart): "Come here, I want to cuddle wif you on da couch."

15. Building our own family traditions with Sassy and Stinkus is a pretty amazing gift.

The Perfect Christmas

I should have called my blog: "Things My Parents Were Right About and Why I Need To Apologize." This post is a much-needed apology to my mom, decades after the fact. Pulling off Christmas is HARD. I'm trying not to panic that my list is getting longer while the countdown is getting shorter. Once again, I have NO clue how my mom pulled off Christmas each year for us. I know that I didn't make it any easier. I had this extremely over-the-top idealistic image of Christmas. I had it all planned: we would get the house all squeaky clean and then put on some Christmas music, make hot chocolate, and decorate the tree in perfect harmony. Then we would head to mass on Christmas Eve, come home and gather round with mugs of red hot apple cider and cookies, and just bask in the Christmas spirit. Awwwwww. I have no clue where I got this. It was like I watched one too many Hallmark movies, but we didn't have cable so I can't blame it on that. While I don't remember specific details, I'm pretty sure that with ten people, it did NOT go like this. Oh, and to add to the stress, yours truly decided for several years to write and direct a little Christmas play that we would present after mass. This lasted about five minutes into rehearsal because--shocking--it's apparently not fun to work with a bossy older sister who is barking out orders and yelling at people to stop ruining Christmas. Yeah, that was me. Sorry, Mom. It's funny because while I know there were tears and fights and utter chaos, Christmas WAS perfect. I have such great memories of Christmas mornings with my family and I SO appreciate everything my parents did to make it magical.

Now as an adult, I realize that "perfect" is hard to come by. For Stinkus's first Christmas, she had a tummy bug and I spent the majority of Christmas Eve Day cleaning projectile vomit from numerous surfaces in our house. In case you're wondering, an Exersaucer has LOTS of little crevices. I made a mad rush to Walmart at 3 pm to finish up some last minute stuff--NOT the time to shop--and Santa got Oreos that year because I didn't have the time or energy to roll out my famous sugar cookies. We can laugh now, but that Christmas will forever be the "How Many Pairs of Pajamas Can We Wear In 24 Hours" Christmas. Moments after putting her down (in Pajamas #1), Stinkus puked PEAS all over herself and her crib. Pajamas #2. The next morning, her diaper exploded all up her back. Pajamas #3. Then Sassy (in Pajamas #4) who was 3 1/2 and had been trained for a while, refused to break from the Santa madness to take a morning tinkle and proceeded to pee her pants in the living room. Pajamas #5. So much for the cute matching jammies. . .Last year there were fewer bodily fluids on Christmas morning, but more tears. Stinkus didn't want any of her presents--just Sassy's.

There is no "perfect." (I wish some friends on Facebook would admit to this but that's another blog. . .) There's everyday life and Christmas Day is no exception. Tonight we're going on a "Christmas Light Hunt" (coined by Sassy a few years ago) and I'm sure there will be fits, tears, and lots of ice cream dripped in the car. And it will be perfect.