A.Thimons

Time to clean out and update the blog! We got rid of the “Coffee Table”, “Bookshelf” and Nightstand” pages. Instead, there will just be a post like this every couple months, you know promoting all the products/ideas worth writing about:

Here’s Spring 2012

It’s 8 am time to rise and shine and make breakfast with the munchkins. It’s great to start my day off with a laugh or two after I read @JimGaffigan or @DemetriMartin’s latest tweet on Twitter. Once downstairs, I pop the kiddos  favorite organic waffles in the toaster and pour myself a bowl of oatmeal squares.  Since I’m back on the no-dairy kick,  Silk Coconut Vanilla milk does the trick for cereal, and boy it tastes too yummy to be breakfast. Of course there’s several drippings of butter and syrup that make their way onto the kitchen table, but nothing super strong Bounty napkins can’t handle. I love the way they don’t fall apart when I use them! Nothing’s too tough a job for them, at least in the kitchen, and if it is I just wipe the grime away with a basic baby wipe. Speaking of babies, nothing has made nursing more blissful than the amazing new bibs at Target, “Tommee Tippee Closer to Nature Milk feeding bib” long name for an incredible product. A bib that has a soft cotton roll around the neck to prevent the milk from leaking up under baby’s chin while they’re nursing! Genius! Do you know how many times I grab baby wipe to clean out the spit up that always winds up under there?  With a 2 pack for only $6.99, I am ecstatic. Also, since I bought them online I made sure to go through Ebates.com which literally, yes literally sends me a check in the mail after I shop online. Translation: get paid to shop online! If you make most of your purchases via the web, check out their thousands of participating retailers and see how much cash back you can earn. Certain times of the month, they even triple the cash back bonus!

Once the kids get dressed and settle into playing with the new Ikea train set, it’s time for me to spray out the hot pink marker on my white carpet with the only cleaner that gets the stain out completely, Woolite Oxy power. Seriously, a couple of squirts, dab it up and kiss those spots goodbye! It’s a magical experience. During the day, we keep music on and these Matthew West and Steven Curtis Chapman’s songs “Strong Enough” and “Do Everything”   are a MUST to listen to. Seriously, I think these songs were written for post-partum mamas! Of course if it’s really “one of those days” then it’s nothing  some Pepperidge farm Salusisto cookies and watching my new favorite Jim Breuer skit called “Why Moms need sleep”  can’t cure. Comic relief at it’s best! (Also, definitely worth the download if you want to laugh until you wet yourself is Jim Gaffigan’s new special, “Mr. Universe” off his website…at only $5, it’s the most affordable date night! 75 minutes of pointing out why we all hate going to the gym, how bedtime routines are akin to hostage negotiations, and how going to Disney is just the same as standing on line at the DMV. We woke up our kids that’s how loud we were laughing… but it was worth it)

It’s 3pm and the kids are napping. Time to flip through my indulgence catalogs J. Peterman and Boden…which only make me salivate over the delicious fabrics and gorgeous styles they offer. Of course, the prices are sickening but still… one can dream. As it creeps close to dinner, and the kids wake up I whip up a family meal (that is both kid friendly and feeds the whole family…good bye to making separate dinners!) thanks to Tyler Florence’s new cookbook. Tonight it’s Turkey meatloaf cupcakes with mashed potato frosting. Oh yeah baby. If getting Chubs to eat requires making his food look like dessert, then so be it.

Ah, at last! It’s 8pm..bedtime has come and it’s time for books and prayers. Silence fills the house perfectly and at 9pm, it’s time for Camera Guy and I to unwind with some shows and snacks. To break my Oreo binging habit, I’ve chanced upon Kashi’s Soft Happy Trail Mix cookies, which are so tasty I don’t even miss eating Oreos.   Kashi’s cookies are loaded with so much coconut, wild honey, oatmeal and sweetened cranberries… it’s like a surprise party for your taste buds. To fill the chocolate void, we’ve been finding “Silk Dark Chocolate Almond” milk at Target! The new love of my life! (Almond milk, not Target. Although at times, it is debatable) This milk is so delicious, so smooth,rich and the best part is that it has 50% more calcium than a glass of milk and 45% DV of Vitamin B12. It’s no wonder this was voted the Best New Product of 2011! As for tv time, well, thanks to the Roku box, we don’t pay for cable just our $7/month Netflix subscription and we get tons of series, (yes, including LOST) plus dozens of channels at our disposal…commercial free. It rocks. An added bonus, we get EWTN !

11pm and we’re turning in, but not without playing my turn on the Scrabble app for Android. I make sure it’s all set to go for those mid-night nursing sessions, and I’m ready to grab some shut eye! All is good.

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Was this helpful? Fun? Useful? Or just dumb? Meh, I gave it a shot. Instead of hyper linking all those separate items on the coffee table or bookshelf, they’re all right in one place. It’s an attempt to try to simplify my life and the blog. Well, it’s coming together nicely on the blog. It looks like it’ll be a while on my life…

It amazes me how much having toddlers change the way you experience things in life. Things like car rides, sporting events, food shopping and meals have all dramatically changed to be, er… more eventful. Going to church used to be one such thing. At the height of my spiritual life, going to mass was an incredible experience. I felt so connected, so amazed by the majesty and wonder of the sacraments. I would come away from Mass enriched, refreshed, and in peaceful meditation on the profound truths I’d discovered. Since having kids, mass has become this once a week marathon that we have to buckle down and get through. It’s been reduced to packing the church bag, getting everyone lined up and dressed, putting on our big kid boots and keeping the troops quiet for a hour. I feel awful saying that, but I haven’t been able to listen to readings, homilies or psalms in a while. I realized on Palm Sunday that I spent the majority of mass thinking about whether or not the sippy cups had stoppers in them, who needed a diaper change, what side I nursed on last, where the extra nursing pads were, how to peel stickers off of pews, and all the while frantically trying to prevent my son from lifting up my skirt.  Just when I came anywhere close to having a chance at a spiritual inkling, some child would jolt me back to reality by attempting to ram a palm branch up my nose.

I really miss feeling that connection to God. I feel out of the loop. Kind of distant. What is the solution then? The fact of the matter is, the kids aren’t bad in church. They’re excellent, most of the time you’d hardly know they were there because Camera Guy and I do so much behind the scenes work. And that’s just it. We’ve got the Mass down to a science, distracting toddler-wise. But that entails constant effort on our part, which requires enough brain activity to prevent us from paying attention to the extraordinary event taking place in front of us. So. Do I not bring my kids to mass, as one pastor has suggested?

I think ultimately Mass demands of us to be receptive, not necessarily reciprocal. That this is the moment where time stops so our God can come to us once again and feed our souls. Maybe years ago in my single-hood I could actively participate it a reciprocating kind of way at Mass… now I’m feeling more humbled, more “babied” as I just sit there waiting to gain nourishment from God…and maybe that’s ok. It is ridiculous to try and put the pressure  on ourselves to live up to the spirituality we had as singles. Life has changed, vocations have emerged, and thus new expectations are born. Those of meeting God “in the marketplace”, in our day to day journey of motherhood. Through those brief moments of silence where all you can do is mumur  a “thank you” in your heart.

This Easter season,I’m starting over by letting myself off the hook. I’m done feeling guilty for all the Sunday’s I shushed more than I sang hymns, or for all the times I had to pick up goldfish instead of bulletins. I know deep down that bringing those little stinkers along with me each week far pleases Him more than any amount of hymn singing can. Jesus was the one who said to let the little ones come to him, and so that’s what I’ll keep doing.I have to believe that by dragging their tushies before Jesus every Sunday is doing them better than sitting at home. That merely having them in his presence, just touching the edge of his garments, is something profoundly powerful no matter how distracted or distracting they are.

(I literally kept a notebook by the dinner table. This is to be read as fast as possible without taking any breaths or blinking)

Mommy what’s for dinner? I’m really hungry! Can I help you cook? Can I have a snack while I wait? I don’t want a cheese stick. Can I have something else? Can I have more bread?

Please stop running near the stove. No you can’t have cookies now.

Pee is COMING, Mom!!

Get off the kitchen table.For pete’s sake, step away from the baby! Dinner’s ready. Please come here and sit down! Put your pants back on!!

It smells like Taco Bell in here, did Jack poop?

Get your feet off the table!! Oh my word, these kids! I think I’m really loosing it. Why is  the PAM on the changing table? I have a fuzzy brain.

Stop putting ketchup on your feet!

Jack’s going to be short because he doesn’t eat!

Lord Almighty! Can’t I eat in peace just once?! How was your day at work? Oh.My.Goodness. He just dumped his smoothie on the floor, on purpose! Can I please have a chance to catch my breath? Great everything is cold.Now I’ve got to feed the baby.You’ll have to eat without me. Please just take two more bites.Stop talking with your mouth full. Get those greasy fingers off the COUCH!!! Go. Wash. Your. Hands. That’s enough soap, ENOUGH!!!

Mom, there’s a big booger coming out of my nose. It’s a green one.

You know what I’m talking about, those famous two lines that you see intersecting on a plastic stick at 5am while you’re blinking blearily through your glasses in the bathroom.

The ones that nonchalantly let you know you’ve forever altered history and the rest of your life. Sometimes a surprise, sometimes waited for, but always a joy in this house.

I saw a little pink plus sign about 7 months ago. And what a miracle it was! As I shuffled in my slippers back to the bedroom, I picked up Camera Guy’s phone and snapped a picture of the test for sentimental reasons (so sentimental that I took it on a cell phone. ha.) before waking him up.

Fast forward 7 months and here we are ( and “we”  is entirely accurate you will find) on the brink of the last 8 weeks, in the midst of raging cravings, and becoming increasingly more aware of all sorts of odd habits we possess.

We. Yes, we. It is shocking how sometimes I think Camera Guy is the pregnant one around here. Bringing home bags of cookies, gallons of ice cream (I do not exaggerate, ask our ShopRite cashier) and pounds of Halloween candy. You can tell he’s trying as hard as possible to be empathetic with the hormone changes as much as he can. By the third time around now, it seems like he’s got more than the swing of it. Every meal is followed up quite promptly with cookies, then late night movie watching paired with big bowls of ice cream, accompanied by a glass of egg nog or an iced coffee… much to my jaw dropping shock. And forget it, once our visiting German exchange student (now an MD) pointed out over dinner last week that men actually do experience a hormone change related to food cravings during pregnancy… well that’s all he needed to hear. Now I’m not the only one who can pull the “I can’t help it” card.

Not that he’s the only one acting weird around here. Like I’ve recently become aware of a strange affinity for decorative tissue boxes I have.(We cannot have the blue box in the kitchen. The blue box absolutely must go in the upstairs bathroom!) Or the apocalyptical sense I have of building my toothbrush reserve. Seriously. By the amount of spare toothbrushes and toothpaste I’ve stocked up on these past few months you’d think I’m getting ready to leave for a dental mission trip to Africa. I was flabbergasted when I opened my linen closet to find 9 tubes of toothpaste piled up neatly, and 5 toothbrushes. And that was just the upstairs stash. Downstairs I had another 3 tubes of paste and a couple more brushes.

“My word.” I gasped “What is happening to me?”

And somehow it won’t stop. I can’t pass up the 88 cent toothbrush sale. It’s like a subconscious edict that bad breath will not be tolerated in this house. Or heaven forbid my overnight guests would be without a toothbrush and paste? I won’t be the one to suffer across from them at the breakfast table the next morning. No sir.

Lately it’s been apples too! Really! I see a sale on bags of apples and I’m sending Camera Guy out for them day and night. Another apple sale! Go sir, go! We must have that fruit by george, it’s only 99 cents for a 3 pound bag.

“We have 6 pounds of apples in our refrigerator! Why are we buying more?” CG tried to object as he put on his coat.

I looked at him unbelievably and somewhat crushed, “Because I might want to make an apple pie or apple sauce or apple juice!” I couldn’t understand why my logic wasn’t convincing.

That would have been the perfect scenario to use my “I’m pregnant” card if I had enough brain cells remaining to remember. Now I seem to reserve that card for seriously strange situations like shouting in my sleep, having insomnia from watching “Monk” or getting aggravated over bath robes with hoods. (Is it really just the hormones or please someone justify to me that it is incredibly weird to make bath robes with hoods? Why? Why?? I can NOT seem to get it. What a waste of fabric) (As another totally hysterical sidenote, I did Google “bathrobes with hoods… why??” and a link to the Klu Klux Klan popped up. WOW.)

Hormones or not, cravings aside…it’s always an interesting phase this whole being pregnant thing. And now, I’m going to sit down in my hood-free robe eat a huge slice of apple pie and watch some “Monk”. Oh and if anyone cares to drop in and visit, be forewarned: I just might be giving away tubes of toothpaste to all of you for Christmas this year.

Yesterday was one of those days. A day when it feels like starting from the very second you wake up you are picking up, wiping up, cooking up,cleaning up, breaking up and standing up all day long. One of those days when you know its going to be a loaded one. You can just tell what kind of a day it will be by the way you wake up.

Yesterday I awoke to a toddler pushing glasses onto my face, despite the fact that my face was intentionally under my pillow. My diamond engagement ring had been shoved next to my hands, along with some other jewelry. Slippers had been placed on top of the pillow (for which I was still under) and two enormous brown eyes, which just cleared the top of the mattress were peering into my eyes waiting for signs of life. I could hear her step up on the nightstand ledge to get a closer look at the strange species of the exhausted mom. Her squishy cheeks were as close as humanly possible to mine. The millisecond my eyes popped open, she steamily spoke while gripping the binky between her teeth ,

“Get up, Mom. Let’s eat breakfast.”

Tiny flecks of spit flew out from the binkied mouth causing me to groan and cringe. I shot up and looked at the clock.

“6am?! Noooooo”

I flopped back down. This was a good hour and half before normal rise and shine time.

Crying commenced. I instantly flew out of bed and swooped her up into my arms, running down the creaky steps and landing in the kitchen. Anything would be done to prevent Mr. Chubs from awakening at this ungodly hour, too.

Let the day begin. Oy.

The rest of the day proceeded in typical “those days” fashion. By looking at the clock every 5 minutes only to find that it’s still 9am, not naptime yet. With mounds of laundry, dishes, dirty shoes and tiny flecks of construction paper piling up all over the place. Chasing after a toddler who’s wearing no shoes…. in the mud puddle out back. Shooing hungry cats off my porch and practically murdering the squirrels who keep eating my pumpkins on the front steps. Or my all time favorite: washing Mr. Chubs head in the kitchen sink, since his sister decided to paint him with mud just as we were getting ready to get in the car.

The thing about “those days” I’ve come to realize, is just when I am ready to bury my head in the couch and scream…one of the kids always does something to jingle my emotional Mom-chain.

This time it was Princess. Chubs had been screaming and was in need of a serious diaper change, so exasperated I sighed aloud heavily, scooped him up and walked him upstairs to the diaper table. Of course he continued to scream and flail for the duration of the change and I could faintly hear Princess shouting something from downstairs. I rolled my eyes and yelled back for her to repeat herself, since Chubs was too noisy. Why did they always both have pertinent crises at the same exact time? I still couldn’t make out what she was saying so throwing Chubs on my hip, I started the trip back down the stairs asking her again what she said.

Looking up the staircase with her two big brown eyes she clearly stated,

“I said: Mom! Do you need any help up there?”

I blinked and stuck my pouty lip out, feeling so low for being so aggravated with them. Then proceeded a super mushy teary-eyed hug and gushing of how sweet a girl she is…etc. You know how it goes.

Suddenly “that day” got a thousand times more bearable. Her little 3 year old offering of kindness completely melted away my stress. Especially when I came back into the kitchen and found my laundry basket loaded with the dry clothes, and the dryer turned on with the next load of wet clothes in it. Gasping, I asked her what she did and she explained proudly with total pride that she had switched the laundry and emptied the dryer,

“All by myself!” she proudly concluded.

Don’t worry, readers. I’m just as dumbfounded as you are. I credit that whole event to her guardian angel, or maybe mine. Because they both know just how frazzling a “those days” day can be. It’s a nice reminder, and a sweet one when it comes in the form of your child to be reminded gently that He is always right by your side. Offering His help whenever we need it at just a prayer away.

Now if only those guardian angels could encourage her to sleep in a little later… then we’d be golden.