So, we’re going to alternate our Frugal Fridays with Five Question Fridays and anything else I decide to throw in on a Friday!
Why?
Because I can.
1. How often do you shave your legs in the winter?
Um, not often.
There.
I said it.
So, we’re going to alternate our Frugal Fridays with Five Question Fridays and anything else I decide to throw in on a Friday!
Why?
Because I can.
1. How often do you shave your legs in the winter?
Um, not often.
There.
I said it.
So, Monkey in the Middle and Baby Monkey are taking Karate this winter.
It is through the town rec program, so it’s not like they are at a dojo, or anything, but it’s still a full karate program.
As with all things, Monkey in the Middle is into it and working to learn his moves and is ready to kick some butt.
Baby Monkey is just along for the ride.
It’s fun to take them (although I am very grateful when Real Man offers to take them, as well) because you never quite know what you are going to see.
Like a sparring match up between Baby Monkey (one of the smallest guys in the class) and the sensei, one of the tallest people I’ve ever seen.
But don’t you worry…
Baby Monkey showed him a thing or two.
Of course, the real reason either of these boys ever want to go to karate is because the sensei ends each class with a game of dodge ball.
With karate helmets.
They’ve each got the strategy down.
Stay in the back and be invisible.
Monkey in the Middle does get aggressive and starts playing a mean game of dodge ball with helmets.
Baby Monkey needs to be prompted to play, and yet, he almost always winds up as the last one out there.
It’s always a good time, watching them get down with their karate selves.
Last week, the boys came home after being at karate with Real Man and wanted to show me their new moves.
“Bully me, Daddy! Bully me, Daddy!” they were yelling.
“Huh?” was my response.
So, Real Man showed me how they learned two different ways to break away from an attacker, and they were adorable doing it, and it made me feel really good to know that they knew how to defend themselves or how to get away in a dangerous situation.
So, karate…
…adorable AND potentially life-saving!
Okay, a few words.
It’s jumpy at first, but it gets better.
Other than that…it leaves me speechless. They are nuts. All of ’em.
“I don’t know how you do it,” is a phrase I hear a lot.
When I hear it, I smile and say “I have really good kids and a really supportive husband,” because it’s the truth.
Then they say “Yeah, but still, I don’t know how you do it.”
I often wonder what exactly this “IT” is that they think I do.
And I certainly hope that “IT” doesn’t equal “ALL” because I don’t do it all.
One of the blogs I read, “Tiny Twig Goes Out on a Limb,” covered this very topic, last week, and I thought she did a beautiful job.
You can read her take on doing it all here.
As for me, I certainly don’t do it all, either.
Here are my contributions to Tiny Twig’s list:
1. I don’t deep clean my house. In fact, I have a cleaning lady that comes every other week. She scrubs, she shines, and does the deep cleaning I could be doing instead of hanging with the monkeys when I get home from work. Let’s be honest…we’re in the midst of play season. Add that to my teaching day, plus piano, and I’m leaving at 7:15 in the morning and not walking in the door again until 5:30, sometimes 6:00. I wanna play Wii tennis or chess or cut stuff out of construction paper with the monkeys. I don’t want to have to deep clean the house. So, for about 3 hours, once every two weeks, my house is sparkling clean. The rest of the time, it’s clean enough.
2. This brings me to point number two. I love to play games and do stuff with the monkeys. I do. But, I don’t want anyone thinking that’s all I do when I’m home. I would think that’s evident just from the mere fact that I write this blog, which takes up a bit of time. But I also like to read, to run on the treadmill, to play the piano, and do other things to relax, and a lot of these things don’t involve my kids. My children are my life. But, my children aren’t my life. I have other interests, as well as being a Mom, and I think that’s just fine. On Facebook the other day, my Mom posted that she called here to talk to Baby Monkey and while they were on the phone, he called over his shoulder to his siblings, “I could use a little quiet, here.” He got that from me.
3. This comes as no surprise to regular readers, but I suck at laundry. I simply cannot stay on top of it. Can. Not. Do. It. In fact, (and this is absolutely no joke), if I knew someone I could hire to do our laundry, I would. I don’t like spending money, but this would be somewhere I would absolutely spend my money. I hate it. I don’t know why I hate it so much. It’s not the washing or the drying. It’s the folding, hanging and putting away. And the fact that I’m doing laundry for 6. So, we’re all always looking for this shirt or those pants and my answer is always, “It’s probably still dirty.” And sometimes, we wear it dirty.
4. I don’t do it all, because I don’t have to. I have an incredible husband and we’re a team. You want to talk about someone who does it all? Talk about a single Mom. My friend, Jodi, does it all and does it by herself and does it beautifully. She’s who I look up to.
So, these are just a few of the things that I don’t do, or even that I don’t do well.
No one does it all.
No one should even try.
I do the best that I can and try not to beat myself up over the stuff I’m not doing as well as someone else is doing it.
Because, odds are, I’m probably a rock star at something they are struggling with.
So, as I wrote my post about my brain not shutting off while I was trying to sleep, the other night, I was reminded of the “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” books. Several people commented that that post reminded them of the books, as well.
I decided to go ahead and give a stab at actually writing a post along the lines of the books.
So, here’s what might happen…
If You Give a Mom an Hour
If Dad takes the kids to the park and you give a Mom an hour…
She’s going to want a cup of tea.
She’ll turn on the tea kettle and reach for a mug in the cabinet.
Except, there won’t be any mugs.
So she’ll open the dishwasher that is full of clean dishes, because her daughter (whose chore it is to unload) hasn’t gotten around to emptying it yet.
She’ll pull out the mug, and then spot the dirty dishes in the sink, and decide to empty and reload the dishwasher.
When she’s done, she’ll go to sit down to wait for the kettle, and as she walks to the table, her foot will crunch on a Cheerio.
She’ll grab the broom from the laundry room and sweep the kitchen floor.
As she empties the dustpan into the garbage, she’ll notice that it’s pretty full, and she’ll take it out to the trash bins.
As she walks back into the house, she’ll notice a tricycle, left in a corner of the driveway.
When she wheels it back to it’s spot in the garage, she’ll find her 5 year old’s baseball cap.
She’ll pick it up and take it inside, and up to his room, tripping on a toy on the stairs.
After dropping off the hat, she’ll pick up the toy and take it to the basement, discovering the empty popcorn bowl from the night before.
As she brings the bowl to the kitchen, she’ll turn off the kettle, knowing it’s about to whistle, will grab a tea bag, and will pour the hot water into her mug.
She’ll know it’s too hot to drink, so she’ll turn to the pantry to find something to nibble on with her tea and will find an empty box of 100 Calorie snack packs.
She’ll break down the cardboard and will notice two empty cereal boxes on the counter, so she’ll break those down, too.
As she carries them to the laundry room, where the cardboard is kept, the dryer will buzz, and she’ll pull out the clothes and hang them, quickly, before they wrinkle.
Then, she’ll move the clothes from the washer into the dryer and realize she forgot to get the basket of dirty clothes from her room.
So, she’ll trudge back upstairs and head to her bedroom.
As she grabs the laundry basket, she’ll notice that someone probably crawled into her bed to watch television and she needs to remake the bed.
While she’s making the bed, she’ll step on an empty inhaler that she probably dropped there, in the night, after using it.
She’ll look in her nightstand to see if she has another, and when she realizes she doesn’t, she’ll quickly call the pharmacy to renew the prescription.
When she hangs up the phone, she’ll see her iPad and remember that she was in the middle of a good part in her book (on the Nook) when she fell asleep last night, so she’ll put the iPad on top of the laundry in the basket and bring it downstairs with her.
She’ll load up the washer, pick up the iPad, and walk back to the counter.
Her tea will be just the right temperature for drinking, so she’ll take the iPad and the tea to the living room, and as she sinks into the comfy couch, the front door will open.
“Mom! We’re home!”
Okay, okay…I realize it’s probably just baby babbling that sounds like a sentence.
Like when Monkey Girl was a few months old and Real Man said “I love you” while changing her and she replied “Love you!”
Or, she replied “Uh Ooh” and as first time parents, we were sure she was speaking real words to her Daddy.
Or, she was a genius.
Anyway…
On Tuesday, Tiny was sick and was grumpy for most of the day.
He hadn’t napped more than a half hour at his sitters, and napped for only a few minutes in the car on the way to the doctor.
By bedtime, he was a grumpy mess.
So, I decided to text Helena, his amazing sitter, a “night-night” video message.
I held up my phone, prompted him to say “night-night,” thinking he would wave his arm at her like he does when he says goodbye, or hello, or night-night, or stop it, or that’s funny, or hey, that’s my toy, or anything else he wants to say excitedly.
Instead, apparently, he told her he wanted to go to bed.
Listen.
As I write this, I am in the middle of Night #3 of no sleep for me.
Night #1 was due to a 3 am rendezvous with Tiny.
Night #2 and Night #3…it’s all me.
Can’t blame Tiny.
In fact, I can hear him sawing a whole forest of logs in there, right now.
I’ve tried…I really have.
But, I can’t turn my mind off.
I start thinking about something funny that happened at work.
Which reminds me of the papers I need to grade at work.
Which reminds me that my grades need to be entered into the system at work, so I really need to finish grading those papers so I can get the grades done in my grading program and then transfer them to the report card system.
Which makes me think that maybe I should just get out the computer and start working on it.
Which reminds me of the Social Studies project that Monkey Girl was borrowing my laptop to complete tonight.
Which makes me smile because I remember how much fun I had cleaning the kitchen while she was working on the project, just chatting away.
Which reminds me that we really need to sweep the kitchen more often, because Tiny is now a crawler and will put absolutely anything that he can pinch between those impossibly small fingers into his mouth.
Which makes me envision the laundry room, off of the kitchen, where the broom is kept.
Which makes me a little nauseous because, aside from the broom, I am also envisioning the sickening loads of laundry that are in there, just waiting to be dealt with.
Which makes me remember that all 3 big kids have “Sports Day” tomorrow, and they all want to wear Giant jerseys.
Which makes me a little upset, because I wanted to wear my Giants jersey to school tomorrow, but Monkey Girl is going to borrow it, so I have to think of a Plan B.
Which makes me nauseous, again, because now I’m mentally going through my closet, and in that closet is a laundry basket full of laundry that needs to be done.
Which reminds me that tomorrow is Friday, which starts the weekend, and I’m hoping to get the laundry squared away this weekend.
Which makes my neck tense, because it makes me think about the fact that the Christmas tree is still up.
Which makes me smile because it reminds me of Christmas and how much fun the monkeys had.
Which makes me get a little tic because, in thinking about Christmas presents, I realize that we are now in February, and all 4 monkeys have birthdays this month, which means lots of parties to plan and presents to buy.
Which reminds me I have to transfer some money from savings into checking to pay some bills tomorrow.
Which makes me wonder if Real Man is getting paid this week or next week.
Which makes me remember that Monkey in the Middle wants to buy a snack a lunch tomorrow, with his own money, instead of having me pack one.
Which makes me worry that I don’t remember where I moved his wallet last time he left it out on the counter.
Which makes me think of the kitchen and the mess on the counter.
Which reminds me of the mess on the floor.
Which makes me think of Tiny and makes me listen to him sawing wood in his crib, over the monitor.
Which finally makes me sleepy.
Okay, I think I’m good now.
I’m sick.
I’m tired.
There is nothing, nothing that could make me smile today.
Except for the fact that when I was putting away Tiny’s laundry, he was crawling around on his bedroom floor, crawled over to his crib, reached out, touched it, turned to me, shook his head and said very, very seriously, “No-no, Ni-ni. No-no, Ni-ni.”
That made me smile.
I picked him up, assured him that it was not, in fact, time for “night-night,” and was rewarded with a kiss.
A Tiny kiss, which is an open-mouthed, drooly, boogery, slop-fest on your cheek.
And that made me laugh.
Kids.
Good stuff.
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