A thought I needed for today.....

"Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, but only saps today of its strength."
– A. J. Cronin

When Did It Happen?

It seems that nearly every day I ask myself that question about something. I can't really pinpoint the moment that these things happened, but they happened with or without my consent. For example:

• When did the days of my life become defined by the bodily function/fluid I had to clean up/ deal with/smell? It happens so gradually, one never really knows. With one child, it was bearable. Two was a change, especially with a diaper remover as child number two, but still, I can't say it was then either. Now, with three, it seems that every day is a series of bodily fluids. For example, there were the days when first, Tayler pooped in the bath, was moved to the other bathtub, and proceeded to vomit. The next day he took his diaper off and peed down the stairs. That was followed by Tanner's little "accident" in the bathroom, then a series of days filled with sick, vomiting, diarrhea kids. And who can forget the dinner out with friends when McKayla vomited all over the table? To others, those days have dates, or at least a Monday, Tuesday, etc. attached to them. To me, they're just defined by the mess.
• When did I become the barbecuer in the family? So Tyson is late getting home one night when we plan to grill, and I do it. Then he spends the night telling me I'm much better than him at it. So the next time we are going to grill, he reminds me of how much better I did than him. So I help him. Gradually, I'm the griller. I think Tyson has a master plan. He has managed to get it to the point that I don't even ask him to do it anymore, because of course I'm better at it.
• When did I become the meanest mom in the world? I can't recall the exact first time the title was pronounced, but it's used on a regular basis now!
• When did I get labeled as "relaxed?" OK, so some of you are laughing. I know I'm not, but apparently I appear to be to some. My sister had a guy she was friends with that asked her how she could have one sister who was so laid back when she and Lisa were so uptight and stressed out. After we all laughed hysterically about it, my BIL Tim summed it up: She's not laid back, she's beaten down. Thanks, Tim, for defining it so succinctly. I couldn't have defined it myself, but he's right. So maybe the real question is "When did I get so beaten down?" Those darn kids again :)

So is it just me, or do you ask yourself the same questions, but different of course. I have a million more, and at least one new one every day. Do we all wonder when it happened?

Everybody Needs a Dab Like That!

Tanner, Tanner, Tanner. When will it ever end? He continues to be the comic relief for Tyson and me, without ever putting any effort into it. The other day, he walked by a pillow that my mom gave to me. McKayla always walks by it and says, "That's so true!" and goes on. Tanner just had to know what that was all about so he asked me to read it to him.

The conversation went downhill from there. I read it to him, and this is how it went:

Tanner: That's is so true, he is!
Me: That's about moms. Who's the he?
Tanner: The dad of mean and bossy. He is!

OK, so first of all, before you assume I have a mean and bossy husband, he so isn't even close. He's more like the exact opposite. I try to make him mean and bossy so he'll argue with me and take charge, but to no avail. Tanner just likes to be like his sister, and he needed a reason to say it was so true. He couldn't agree with the mom of sugar and spice and everything nice, so he had to agree with the "dad" part.

I tried to explain to him what it really said and meant, but now he always tells me that dabs are mean and bossy. Oh well, can't say I didn't try.

Christmas, Finally!

It's a new year. Maybe my resolution should be to stop procrastinating, considering that I am just now getting to the "Christmas" post. Every blog should have a Christmas post, shouldn't it? But this time of year, everything goes crazy! Trying to blog about Christmas gets in the way of cleaning up Christmas. How, when it is so much work getting ready for Christmas, can it be so much work to recover from Christmas? It's like having a baby. When you're pregnant, you can't wait to finally deliver the baby. It has to be easier than being pregnant. Then the baby gets here and it turns out, it's more work than the pregnancy! Here's the beginning vs. the end of our morning:


So, ranting aside, we had a really good Christmas at our house. Santa SPOILED the kids, hopefully not rotten. Tanner and McKayla both asked for Gameboys with games, and they got them, plus piles of other toys and clothes. Tyson and I were wondering if it was wrong to have the best Christmas ever solely because the kids got video games and were completely preoccupied (and silent, perhaps the key). Those two stared at their little Gameboys for at least 12 hours that day, and we let them because, well, it was Christmas.



Tayler "wanted" a new toy box, and Santa brought him one. What a lucky boy! It was full of new toys, too.



Turns out, he prefers empty boxes with a spatula and candy. That sure would have saved some money!


Tyson spent his day getting the Wii up and running, his gift "to the kids." I'll believe that when he plays fewer games than them! I think he loves having kids as an excuse for buying himself toys, if you ask me. All of the kids are loving the Wii, though. Tanner has learned to trash talk with the best of them.

All in all, Tyson and I agree that it was our favorite Christmas ever!