MELODRAMA MAMA

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

A Night in the Life of Super-Mom

The other night, N came into my room around 11:00. He had this confused but wild glassy eyed look and was sweating profusely. As he has been sick and feverish, I was initially alarmed that his fever had spiked and I was going to have to take him to Urgent Care or something. This was the conversation that ensued.

Me: N, are you okay?

N: I have a problem.

Me: (feeling his forehead which was cool but clammy) What is your problem?

N: (tearing up) Those guys are aiming their catapults at me!

Me: Huh?

N: (glassy eyed silence)

Me: What are you talking about?

N: Catapults!

Me: (Angrily) Have you been up playing with toys or something?

*Editorial Pause -

It is known fact, in our home, that N will sometimes wake up at night, turn on his light once he realizes that everyone is asleep, and play with toys, only to fall asleep on the floor - which is odd because it is hardwood. I have also found him asleep in bed in the morning, lights on, and under the covers is myriad of knights, horses, and weapons. This deviant behavior resulted in the 'no light bulbs for you' (said in the voice of the Seinfield 'Soup Nazi') rule of 2007. He has since earned back his light bulb rights, and thus the ability to see at night - with the carefully worded warning that I can re-possess his bulbs at the slightest infraction of their use.

*Resume Conversation -

N: (slightly frantic) Help me Mom!

Me: What?

N: The bricks really hurt!

Me: What bricks?

N: They load up the catapult with bricks and shoot it at me! I need help! Please!

I realized that he was experiencing some sort of bizarre sleep-walking enactment of a dream so I got up to lead him back to bed. When I put my hand on his back he was drenched with sweat so I pulled off his P.J. shirt, put a dry one on him and tucked him in.

Me: (whispering) You are safe now. The guys are gone.

N: (mumbling) Thank you. You saved my life.

Yeah - that pretty much what Super-Mom's do. My next feat? To finish the laundry.

Monday, January 28, 2008

The Lazy Mom's Dinner

So - since we have all been sick a few things are out of whack. Namely, the house is a mess and I am running low on essential supplies.

So - I decided for dinner I would take the kids to get a smoothie from a local store. I was thinking that with the fruit juice and vitamin C booster, the drink would be good for their colds, and then we would go home to make sandwiches.

So - Z sipped his drink and cried (literally) "I hate this - never get it for me again." N sipped his drink, made a great and horrible face, grabbed his throat and involuntarily began to gag. I threw their drinks away, not wanting to consume their germs, thusly wasting five dollars and some odd cents. A and I enjoyed our beverages as we drove home, listening to the boys complain about my bad idea of getting a smoothie, and suggesting that we go instead to Maggie Moo's. When I told them that we were not going to Maggie Moo's we listened to them both cry and complain because they were thirsty and we were drinking in front of them.

So - when we got home, I could not find the supplies for sandwich making. In fact, I was even out of the basic ingredients for the kids all time favorite meal - buttered noodles.

So - this is what appeared on each of their plates:

2 cheese raviolis (lean cuisine),

1/4 cup fettuccine Alfredo (also lean cuisine),

1/3 of a piece of left over pizza,

1/3 of a banana,

4 mini carrot sicks,

and all the orange juice they could drink.

To quote a friend - "The government requires that I feed my children. There is no regulation for taste or quality."

Tomorrow I will go to the grocery store. Even if I have to go with (gulp) kids.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

In Memorandum

President Gordon B. Hinckley, leader of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints passed away today at the age of 97.

I will miss seeing him on the stand at conference, I will miss the sound of his voice from the pulpit. I will miss his sage advice and words of wisdom. I am thankful to live in today's day and age - when access to his teachings are so easily accessible online. I am grateful for my membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints - and thus my remote connection to such a great man. He was loved and will be missed. Thank you, President Hinckley for your inspirations, testimony, and love.

The Blues

I had this brilliant plan two weeks ago to quit taking a 'kids activity bag' to church. With my youngest at 4 I figured that we could downsize a bit. No snacks, one activity book per child, blank paper, and colored pencils all fit nicely in my large purse. I tried it out last week, and found that it worked like a dream - except for the fact that I had left my cell phone in the bottom and it rang (Kristy) mid way through Sacrament Meeting.

Fast forward to this week - I brought my bag/purse again, deposited the kids on a row with my friend (still no Hub - thanks again, Chris) emptied the kids contents for them, then took my purse with me, to the stand.

Did I forget to mention that with all the drama of the week - the icing on my figurative birthday cake was that I had to speak in Sacrament meeting? (The icing on my literal cake was a butter cream.)

I could have sworn that I turned the darn phone off, but....

I spoke, it went as well as any talk could go - I sat down -rest hymn - next speaker - AND my cell phone starts ringing (Heather) from within my purse which was under my chair.

I have the ring tone set to this really great blues riff, which is neither reverent, nor quiet - thusly quite inappropriate background music for the speaker. I didn't want to pull it out of my purse to turn it off, as that would draw more attention to the noise and it's source, so I shoved it further under my chair, hoping that no one would notice. The people in the front row seemed to pick up on something, but fortunately the sound seemed not to have traveled beyond their range of detection.

So, other than the bishop who was looking around in surprise (both counselors were out of town today), the two youth speakers who were covering their mouths trying not to laugh, the speaker who visibly tensed up for the 30 seconds of hopefully unidentified noise, the organist who kind of 'tsked' from behind, and the occupants of the entire front row, no one noticed.

Da-da-da-da-da. (Jazz riff)

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Stop Whining!

Okay - so after my big whine about not having a network I have to take back my words. After reading my When I Needed It Most blog, my friend Chris Riker called me and kindly but firmly told me that she would have gladly given me a hand when I was sick and told me to put her number on my speed dial.

Fast forward a few days - Today is my birthday - 34 - (hmmmm...mid thirties - many whiny feelings on the topic that I will just keep to myself). The Hub is still out of town, I am still in recovery mode from illness, two of the three kids are not feeling well (though thank heavens not with what I had) so my b-day outlook was pretty bleak until......surprise! Chris stopped by with a bouquet of balloons tied to a bag bearing the name 'Wegman's'. Those who know about Wegman's understand that it could only contain good things! Within the bag I found a take and bake cheese pizza so I don't have to make dinner for the kids, some home-made chicken noodle soup for me - a loaf of their yummy french epi bread - a 2 layer butter creme vanilla cake - AND a necklace and pair of earrings which Chris hand made.

I would say that was above and beyond what anyone could expect from her network. Thank you Chris! You made my day!

Friday, January 25, 2008

Dissed and Missed

When we were kids, two of my sisters (Becca and Heather) composed a musical masterpiece. The crux of their ballad was that they wished to be magical in order to turn our Mom into a pie - so they could eat her. (Mean old Mom - she must have done something awful.) Now my own child is using imaginary magical vengeance on me. He had been asked to pick up his room but was instead, playing with a plastic Harry Potter wand.

Me: Hey Z, you are supposed to be cleaning your room - why don't you use some magic to make this mess disappear.

Z: (who paused his spell making to give me the stink eye - see picture) I wish this was a real wand with real magic. Then I could dis-you-appear!

I took the wand and forced him to finish his task - earning myself a few Mean Mom points.

Later, at dinner Z and I were going through our standard I-don't-want-to-eat-this-dinner-then-you-won't-get-the-delicious-desert battle when he angrily stated:

Z: I wish I didn't have any Mom.

Me: (with wounded soulful eyes) Oh! I would miss you so much.

His anger dissolved, his eyes filled up with moisture and he started sobbing.

Me: What's wrong?

Z: I will miss you too!

When I needed It Most...

In the past seven years, we have moved from Utah to California, within California, back to Utah, and now to Virginia. That is five locations for anyone who was counting. Yesterday I was thinking about our nomadic tendencies and realized that though we have met many fantastic people in each location, and learned many great things from our experiences, each move has one crummy thing in common. With each uprooting I have lost my support network, and upon arrival in a new location, it takes time to develop a new one.

I was thinking about this yesterday because I had the flu. It was not a mild case. It was an entirely disabling-Exorcist like-can I even crawl into the bathroom before I loose it- kind of case. (Though still coming in second to a certain airplane bathroom incident.) So as I lay on the bathroom floor, lacking energy to crawl back to bed after cleaning the commode - again - wishing that the Hub was not out of town - again- I started to feel sorry for myself. I missed my friends who I could call at a moments notice to come and get my kids. I missed my mom and sisters, who would have cleaned my bathroom for me, taken the kids for the night, or even stayed to keep me company in my commiserative state.

I haven't been here long enough to develop that kind of a network. The kind that I can rely on for anything. I thought of a few people I could call, that would have probably helped, but I didn't have the energy to go downstairs and find the ward directory. So I just felt more sorry for myself, that I don't know anyone well enough to have their phone number memorized.

I also felt sorry for Z, who had eaten a half a loaf of bread (his sustenance of choice when I feebly told him to find something to eat) and watched Scooby Doo all day long, though he wasn't complaining. When A and N finally got home from school I was in bad shape, wishing that I could send them all somewhere, tearfully missing my network.

And guess what? As soon as they realized that I was sick my children magically metamorphasized from my usually needy, often whiny, occasionally screaming pack of three to my own little network of support. I suddenly had three little mother hen's checking in on me, bringing me water (which I promptly threw up), feeling my forehead, and smoothing my blankets. I should note that N and A did most of the 'work' while Z lurked in the background saying "don't touch me with your sick germs." To hit credit, he is only 4 - and has inherited his father's germ-o-phobia.

And so - I tell you this tale - not to gain your sympathy - but to tell you about my great network of support. A ended up at a friends house for the evening, so N poured he and Z a bowl of cold cereal for dinner - AND he put the dishes in the washer. He supervised teeth brushing (which surely was done within the range of poor to mediocre, but I let it go for one night). He brought Z into my room for prayers, offered to say them, and prayed fervently that I would feel better. He read Z a book, tucked him into bed, then went to bed himself. When A got home, she locked up the house, cleaned the kids bathroom sink (a task often necessary after the boys brush their teeth), came to my room for her prayers (more fervent requests for my restored health), and put herself to bed.

Today, I am feeling better, not 100%, but I can tell that there is hope. And I am sure that before long I will be refereeing a screaming match between two of the three kids, reminding them to use their 'nice words and nice voices', and repeatedly uttering a combination of the phrases - 'stop it' - 'knock it off' - or 'how about we all spend a quiet hour in our separate rooms'. Some of them will cry, all of them will whine, no one will do what I ask until I threaten punishment and feel like pulling my hair out at the roots....but they can't fool me anymore.

I know their true nature. When push comes to shove - they are my support network. And that won't change - no matter how many times we move.