my crazy noodle

pride

2010-07-11T21:27:00.000-05:00

This summer has been especially tough on Casey after selling his boat. He's always itching to get out fishing and some days I know it must nearly kill him not to be able to go. Fortunately, he's been able to go out with his brother quite a few times. Typically they fish 3-4 tournaments per summer, but this year in the spirit of saving some money they cut it down to just one tournament and put forth their very best efforts.

And it paid off! They won 2nd Place in the bass division of the Trempealeau Catfish Days tournament yesterday. They weighed in their limit of 6 fish with a total weight of 19.69 lbs. I'm so proud of them, and it was fantastic to see the pride and happiness in their eyes. Of course, the cash prize is always nice, but I think the bond these two brothers share in their love of fishing is the best reward. It was fun to see them laughing and joking and entirely happy about their accomplishment.

Congratulations, Casey and Chad. I am SO proud of you both.

important reminders for the mama

2010-06-03T05:49:00.001-05:00

I can't keep it all in my head anymore. Work, bills, errands, soccer, gymnastics, preschool, playdates, grocery lists, what to make for dinner, who needs to be where at what time -- which is always followed by who needs to be picked up at what time...and everything else that's supposed to be stored at the ready somewhere in my head. I try to be organized, I really do, but some things slip through the cracks now and again.

A couple months ago, during a particularly stressful week, I completely forgot about a lunch date with friends. I was horrified! I profusely apologized, and I think they forgave me. Honestly I had no excuse. I simply forgot. Too much on my plate I guess.

Both kids have been doing a great job of keeping my on my toes, though. I get reminders all the time about what I'm supposed to be doing. Sometimes subtle, most of the time not so much.

The other day I had to make an important call during the day (which I try very hard not to do) and the kids (of course) took advantage of the situation by raiding my craft bins in the spare bedroom. I kept watch for the most part but had to walk away a couple times because they were squealing and talking loudly and I didn't want to be rude to the person on the other end of the line. At one point their chatter turned to yelling, and I finished up my phone call to get back to them. Just then, Liam comes running full-bore out of the spare bedroom, carrying something I couldn't see but knew it was something electrical because of the tell-tale white power cord dragging behind as he made a bee line for an outlet. I ran after him, but he made it to the outlet first, plugged in the cord as fast as his little hands could manage, and proceeded to insert the tip of a GLUE GUN into his ear!!! Like it was an ear thermometer! Talk about heart attack for the mama. So...the golden reminder of this little "lesson" is: Don't forget that Liam is TWO and must be supervised at all times. And believe me, although I did laugh a little after I caught him in the act, I thought about what might have happened had I not caught him. Those glue guns heat up in no time at all, and if he'd decided to try this little stunt in the bedroom only one minute before, the results could have been horrible. This event also reminded me that I own a glue gun, which I had completely forgotten. Note to self: glue gun needs new storage location. For now it's up on the highest shelf in the cupboard.

Another reminder this week of an item on my to-do list came from Quinn. My early riser crept into our bedroom at the crack of 6 am as always, that day dressed in her pajama shirt along with a jean skirt. I said, "Oh, you're wearing a skirt today?" Her eyes widened and she sputtered, "MOM! This was the ONLY pants left in my whole drawer!" I pulled her close and laughed at her reference to any sort of bottoms as "pants", and also at the fact that the poor girl had no choice but to put on the skirt. She pushed away from me..."Mom! This is SERIOUS! It was the ONLY pants LEFT!" Reminder: Unless I want a bare buns girl running around tomorrow, I better do some laundry today.

I'm pretty sure life will continue on this busy pace for awhile. Meanwhile, I just keep trying to stay on top of it all. My honest feeling is that I can just be confident I'm doing the best that I can. I'm only human. And I am very thankful I've been blessed with two terrific children that keep me busy. Sometimes in the mundane tasks involved with taking care of the to-do list, it's easy to forget. Life without my kids would definitely be less hectic, but I can't imagine that life.

digital memories: not necessarily a bad thing after all.

2010-05-17T22:03:00.001-05:00

I used to have more time and energy. Some work girls and I would get together on a regular basis at least monthly to spend time doing what we love - scrapbooking. We'd typically spend 6-8 hours at a crack pouring over our photos and putting them together to make beautiful books to preserve our most cherished moments. But over the last couple years, our lives have gotten more hectic, and we just don't meet up anymore.

I've really tried to get some scrapbooking done at home, but for many reasons it just doesn't happen here. Scrapbooking is messy. It requires clean up immediately afterward if one expects to keep their supplies protected from the curiosity of the kiddos. It is time-consuming. It is expensive. It requires a LOT of planning and preparation...selecting photos and sizes, printing photos, making page layouts, selecting embellishments and themes...the list goes on. Scrapbooking is hard to focus on when there is an enormous pile of laundry and dishes awaiting your attention in the next room.

When I first heard of digital scrapbooking, I was appalled. I thought instantly and for a very long time that I would never even think of doing anything but paper scrapbooking. However...in the last few months I've really started to reconsider these thoughts. I've felt so sad about not scrapbooking. Not because I feel like I "should" document my children's lives, but because I want to document their lives. Making these memory books is a wonderful creative outlet for me. It allows me to escape daily troubles and worries, and just reflect on really great moments in time. And ultimately, my children will have my work as keepsakes for years to come.

I've thought a LONG time about this. One of the blogs I read, Enjoying The Small Things, is written by a photographer who makes digital memory books for her children. A couple months ago, she posted a link to one of her completed books, and I think that was the final convincing factor. I looked at the book and realized it was very well made, and certainly more valuable than my dust collecting tote filled with loads of papers and embellishments and loose photos waiting for a day that might never come. So...I thought, which would make me more sad: Not scrapbooking at ALL? Or scrapbooking digitally, so at least I have something to show for all of the fantastic photos I've taken of the kids?

So yeah, the answer is I want something. And once I started to consider it and research it, I discovered some great benefits about scrapping digitally rather than by hand. Digital scrapbooking is always ready to go in my laptop. I can work on it for 30 minutes and have ZERO cleanup. I can work on it for 10 hours and still have ZERO cleanup. If I don't have the right background/paper, I can shop online and have it ready to use within a minute. Not only do I have all of this at my fingertips, but everything I use digitally is RE-usable. That's pretty cool. It's definitely less expensive and more efficient. I can use pre-made templates, or I can make pages from scratch. If I choose a photo to use but later find a better shot, all I do is cut and paste and the changes are made. In a nutshell...oh my gosh I should have done this SO long ago!

I think there will be a learning curve and some skills to develop. And I suppose down the line I'll look at it and realize how little I knew when I first started this, but I'm more than proud to share my first completed digital scrapbook. This book was completed in less than one month's time. That is quite honestly light years faster than anything I've ever made by hand. Enjoy the book. I just ordered my hardcover copy and I can't wait for it to get here!

Click here to view this photo book larger

springtime

2010-04-10T21:21:00.002-05:00

Thank goodness it's finally here! Springtime. Loving every minute of this gorgeous weather and all the blooming life outdoors. This is proving to be quite a challenging year for our family, and having beautiful weather helps to clear the mind and get the body moving.

I'm so proud of myself...I had a rare Martha Stewart moment and decided to make Quinn's Easter dress myself. I think for it being my first time making an item of apparel, it turned out pretty great.

Easter weekend was busy but fun. We had an egg hunt in our yard...

Colored eggs with the kids...

And Quinn got her first real bicycle from the Easter bunny...

It's such a struggle not knowing God's plan. So much is happening right now in my own family life and the lives of those close to me, and I can't even begin to understand the purpose or the lessons that will be learned when all is said and done. But I know there is a plan, and I've just gotta let it ride for now.

We're doing the best we can with what we've got. And what we've got ~ although it isn't everything we'd hope and picture for ourselves ~ isn't all that bad. Loving and living life to the fullest is worth the effort, and the rewards are priceless.

ah-ti? ite dere.

2010-03-03T20:33:00.003-06:00

I know that when you say "No", (which you say ALL the time, in response to any question) it can mean yes OR no.

I love the early morning "Hi-eeeee!" and the huge smile I get when I open your door.

"Uooosse!" Yes, you can have some juice with your breakfast.

"Side!" Sure, maybe we can go outside later sweetie.

"Puppeee!" No, honey that's a goat. But he's furry like a puppy, isn't he?

"EsssUooo" Bless you. Thank you.

"Airs. Air. Eyce. Does." Yes, those are your ears, hair, eyes, and your toes.

"Bel Butt." And your belly button too.

"Bussss, Busss!" *with a little lisp* I love that you love school buses.

"Ite dere, Ite DERE!" Right there? I should put your ketchup right there, huh? Okay.

"Ahh Dahh! Ahh Dahh!" All done? Okay, time for bed.

"Sairs?" Yes, let's go upstairs.

"Top! TOP!" Okay, I'll stop tickling you. But it's hard, because I love your sweet laugh.

"Tee? Tee!" Oh, I know you don't like to brush your teeth. But we have to. It'll be over soon.

"Ah-ti. Ah-TI? Mine." Let's find your monkey. Yes, it's yours.

"Ock? Ock!!!" Yes, let's rock awhile before bed.

"Nye nye." Night night my sweet boy. Sweet dreams and I'll see you in the morning.

I love your sweet little language. You are the sweetest boy on Earth. I'm so glad you're mine.

finding some bliss

2010-03-01T22:55:00.006-06:00

I took the kids outside today to play in the snow since they were nearly climbing the walls in rebellion of the Winter Blues.

It was in the midst of the laborious task of dressing the three of us that I considered it might not be worth all the effort. We put on snowpants, then boots, then mittens, then coats, and THEN mommy still had to get dressed. All the while, Liam is screaming "Outside! Outside! OutSIDE!"

I wished I'd waited until Casey would be home. But of course I couldn't take back my promise at that point. So, I took a deep breath and out we went.

It was terrific to see their sheer joy in just having some time outdoors. And it turns out I needed it just as much as they did. It was an opportunity to not think about anything but playing and laughing together. My beautiful children enjoyed the snow, and I enjoyed my beautiful children.

These are the moments I will remember always.

goodbye angel

2010-02-04T22:53:00.000-06:00

About 2 years into our marriage, Casey and I bought our first home. We decided to add to our family soon after, and chose to make our first addition a furry one. I remember going to the breeder's home to choose a puppy, and soon after we arrived we knew which one we'd take. Milo was a black and white shih-tzu ball of fur, rolling around, but we noticed he was getting picked on by some of the other pups. He was the one.

Milo was the naughtiest puppy I'd ever met. Chewing, scratching, biting everything...including us! He was so dangerous with those teeth that we were afraid to leave any flesh exposed. For the first year of his life, that dog was a tiny bundle of pure energy. In fact, during that first year we never once witnessed him sleeping. Only when we'd put him in his kennel at night would he finally quiet down and rest. At about one year old, Milo's energy wore off slightly, and he began to look lonesome. He'd sit on the rug in the kitchen and stare up at us.

Have I ever mentioned I can successfully convince my husband to do ANYTHING? It's true. And I can convince him quickly. I'm pretty skilled. For example, I made up my mind one Sunday morning that we simply could not go another day without a new stove. There was one burner that was slightly faulty on the stove that came with our home, and quite obviously that was a glaring reason to replace the entire appliance. I think I started the request around 9 am, which was met with strong resistance. By 3 pm we were out shopping, and by 5 we were hoisting the new stove into the house.

So anyway, when Casey and his brother won some money in a fishing tournament in the summer of 2003, the money was already spoken for. Milo was soon on his way to having a companion.

My sister and I set out to take a look at a shih-tzu puppy, a female...and I knew full well that I would not be leaving without that puppy. The sweet little bundle of gold and white with tiny black tips on her ears was simply adorable. As I was holding her, the owner's daughter approached me. She was maybe about 7 years old, with her two front teeth missing. She looked up at me, squinted into the sun, and said quietly, "Her name is Angel." And that was it. I was sold on the dog, and sold on the name.

Angel and Milo were so happy to have each other. While Angel was not nearly as mischievous as Milo had been, it soon became obvious that her energy would outlast his. She loved to jump, run, and play, and has always been one of the happiest dogs I've ever known.

And here we are, six years into her sweet life, having to say goodbye. Angel is suffering from what we think are multiple herniated disks in her spinal column, which has caused paralysis and pain, and has taken away her playful, happy spirit. It's time for her to feel happy again, which sadly can't happen here with us.

Goodbye Angel. We love you, and will always remember you, our little grizzly bear, our little chewbacca, our loyal, happy little friend. Home won't be the same without you.

counting

2010-01-20T12:46:00.001-06:00

I am counting on 2010 to be the best year EVER. The two BIG things I am really counting on are:

Achieving my New Year's resolution(s). The list was a holy mile long, so I summed it up by saying, "I will take better care of myself". Generalizing my resolution rather than making it super specific will (a) hopefully mean that even a couple good changes are better than none, (b) mean that I can't fall short of my goal since I will define it as I go along, and (c) enable me to be a better wife and parent in the process.
A major turning point in my husband's career. His business is growing ssssssssslowwwwwlyyyy. I'm counting on being out of the snail's race soon. Perhaps entering a grasshopper's race. The outlook for the year with his company and his current situation there are very good, and the mood in his office is very uplifting and energized, so we're on the right track.

I'm counting on a lot, and I realize that.

And we're just not off to such a great start. Well, I should say, we did spend most of last week on a well-earned vacation to Puerto Vallarta...so that was a really nice and refreshing break from reality. But why does the real world have to slap you in the face so damn hard after returning from vacation? I'll never understand. I thought the 80 degree temperature difference was shock enough.

My grandpa passed away the day we left for Mexico. His passing was a relief in many ways. A relief for my mom especially, who has spent a lot of time and energy making sure his needs have been met for the last several years. And a relief for my grandpa, because he suffered for so long with mental illness. He is finally at peace. Even so, I think any death, even the ones that bring relief upon the person and their families, brings about a roller-coaster of emotions that one doesn't expect. It's overwhelming to say the least.

And now, we have another chapter to add to this rocky entrance back into reality as our dog is suddenly unable to use her hind legs. The vet tells me the injury is in her spinal cord, a ruptured disk or disks, which are causing pressure on the spinal cord and paralysis as a result. This is extremely difficult to see, as she has always been a very active and playful dog. We're waiting to see if steroid therapy can reverse the problem. If not, we're facing some really tough decisions that I honestly cannot comprehend having to make right now.

Today is a tough day. I'm trying hard to shift my thinking. I need to stop thinking about what I don't have, and focus on what I have. I need to keep my faith and start counting my blessings.

first field trip

2009-11-20T16:10:00.002-06:00

Quinn (2nd from left) on a field trip to the local fire station, posing with her preschool class and the fire captain.

on peanut butter sandwiches and milkshakes

2009-11-05T22:07:00.001-06:00

This week has been a week of earlier than the already horribly early risings of the sweet little Quinn due to the "falling back" rule. And a week of holy crap it's only 5:30 pm and it feels like 10. These time changes are evil, you know?

Thankfully I have several friends with children who have confirmed that indeed this week has been painful for them as well.

As the parents, we groan and yawn and deal with the ramifications of such an insane rule that surely was meant only to disrupt our neat and tidy routine. The children, however, are expectedly not as well equipped to cope with this change, since they have no clue it has even occurred. (Read: Quinn is crabby as hell and complaining all during her waking hours).

Yesterday at lunchtime, after short discussion, the children and I elected to have peanut butter sandwiches. I can't clearly recall the exact event that preceeded her whine-fest, but anyway there was a whine-fest while I was trying to prepare lunch.

So I pulled out the ol' not-so-reliable shock statement used by parents to elicit a child's appreciation for food.

Me: "You know Quinn, I have something to tell you."

Quinn: "What Mommy?"

Me: "There are little children whose parents do not have enough money to buy peanut butter. Those little children have never even TASTED peanut butter!"

Quinn: *look of sheer horror*, followed by a tearful "WHY???" (yes, real tears over such an atrocity.)

Me: *satisfied to have evoked an emotional response* "Because, not everyone is as lucky as you are, Quinn. We should always remember how lucky we are to have nice things like peanut butter."

*********

Tonight Casey tells me a story. When he picked up Quinn from preschool this afternoon, he brought a milkshake for them to share as a special treat. (Which by the way she took 1 SECOND to spot when they got into the vehicle). Back and forth they took turns sipping, with Quinn drinking most of the shake. Casey drank the last sip.

Quinn: (howling with drama) "DADDY! You drank ALL of MY milkshake!!!"

Casey: "Honey, it was our milkshake to share. There was one tiny sip left and I just finished it. You got plenty of milkshake."

Quinn: "Daddy, that is NOT how you are supposed to treat your children."

*********

Wow, seriously? Back to square one. This lesson might take a few rounds to sink in.

football girl

2009-11-03T20:05:00.003-06:00

I'm a football girl. Sometimes I yell louder than my husband when watching a game. I really never had a choice in this matter though.

During most of my childhood, our family had one television. Said television was tuned in to Green Bay Packers football every Sunday without fail, and Sundays when my mother was at work meant football ALL day. I suppose I spent perhaps my first ten years hating Sundays, pouting and scowling in objection, and eventually retreating to my bedroom to find something else to do when my efforts failed.

Somewhere along the line, I caved and started to watch and listen. I became one of very few little girls who knew full well what a first down was and knew the difference between a tackle and a sack. I began to ask Dad questions during the game, and he explained it all. I knew that the coming of Fall signified the coming of the football season, and I looked forward to it eagerly.

Sundays during the off-season meant watching reruns of Gunsmoke, so can you really blame a girl?

My favorite person to watch the game with to this day is still my dad. He's hilarious, entertaining, and continues to enlighten me with little tidbits about the game that I have yet to learn. And he's always right. Nobody knows a horse-shit call like my dad.

This season I'm thrilled to be going to my second live Packers game with some girlfriends. Apparently they caved somewhere along the line too and became football girls, so we get along well. I can't wait to be there on the sidelines cheering on my favorite team.

autumn's blessings

2009-10-23T17:21:00.004-05:00

Autumn is here.  The fall season used to be my absolute favorite time of year. Few things can make me happier than fresh, cool air blowing through the house and the beautiful colors of changing leaves; time for baking cookies and pies, carving pumpkins, and looking forward to the upcoming holiday season.

Then we had kids. Don't get me wrong, I still love all of those things about this time of year, but it's just not the same.

This year there was an added element of excitement for the season with Quinn in preschool for the first time. It was great fun shopping for a backpack and school clothes, even though a little bittersweet as these events mark the beginning of her journey into girlhood.

BUT. When you are blessed with children, September and October are daunting months as they provide a nice, cozy, undisturbed harbor for germs. A cornucopia of germs, if you will. I should be thankful that in my day and time there are such conveniences as alcohol hand gel and antibacterial wipes for faces and hands as well as household surfaces. Honestly, I've been using them like a crazy person to avoid the impending doom brought on by lurking viruses and bacteria.

A couple weeks ago Casey and I had the great opportunity to travel out of town for a couple of kid-free days.  Now I admit I'm not one of those moms who feels horribly guilty once I'm away, or one who needs to call every two hours because I'm worried about my children. I love them dearly, but I do trust our family as caregivers and cherish time away to rejuvenate. I believe it makes me a better parent. My problem is the anticipation of leaving, and an unexplainable severe anxiety that someone will become ill before we leave. So before our little getaway, I became so worked up about this I nearly became ill myself.  In the end nobody got sick, and we went and had a very nice time.  It's likely this pre-getaway anxiety about sickness will always haunt me as long as my children are small.

But now the bugs are here. Poor Liam has been hit the hardest with a never-ending cold, ear infections, and now both kids have been hit with a nasty flu virus. And I'm quite certain that puke virus is out there waiting its turn.   I hate seeing my children not feeling well. I hate rearranging schedules, missing work, and paying for daycare I'm not using all because my children are sick. I also hate that I've spent time and effort disinfecting and making sure cups are not cross-contaminated -- all for nothing. Who can afford this? Not I.

Side story: Part of Quinn's virus has caused her to speak in a demon-like voice. The demon has been substituted for her whining voice, and is accompanied by a twisted up scary face. I'm sure down the line this will be something I can laugh about.

This week I've spent five full days home with my children without going anywhere except to the clinic twice. Seriously, how can a person entertain one child and one demon child within the same four walls for that many days? It isn't possible. I'm all out of ideas. Even the illustrious SpongeBob SquarePants has lost his luster this week. But I must say, I've cuddled and played with my children more in these five days than I have in the last month combined. That is a blessing, even if in disguise. We've had some good laughs and good fun amidst the sickness. If vomit and high fever are what it takes to get some cuddle time, I'll do it once in awhile.

After this round of the sickies, I do plan on disinfecting-- although I'm not sure why I bother. I'm not yet hopeless I guess. After disinfecting, I plan on making time to bake and enjoy the things I've always enjoyed about the season. We're on the mend, thank God. And please God, if you're listening, let us stay mended for at least a little while. It's going to be a long wait for Spring.

comfort food

2009-08-31T20:54:00.008-05:00

Is it good or bad that life continues to evolve in a constant state of change? I suppose it could be either, depending on the nature of the change...

I love watching my children grow, but hate seeing their baby days gone, one by one, forever. Quinn will begin preschool next week, and she will absolutely love this new adventure. This is so exciting, but marks the end of one stage and the beginning of another.

I am elated and ever-appreciative of my husband's decision to start from scratch in his career in order to make our family a priority. As wonderful as this change has been, it is still a daunting challenge to remain patient as we wait for the consistent, yet very gradual growth in his new endeavor. Show me the MONEY! Okay, honestly it has gotten better with time, but like I said, I am impatient.

I appreciate my employer for making a perpetual effort to better our place of work, but the immensity of 'new and improved' policies and procedures sends my mind reeling, and can be slightly irritating.

My sister, who has struggled to find peace in her life for many years is embarking on multiple significant changes at the moment, which brings a sense of hope and yet also ambivalence and worry.

A good friend who has been an amazing source of support for me during various junctures in my life has recently learned her father has stage 3 lung cancer. This places me on the other side of the court, hoping to offer her the same comfort and friendship she has given me in the past.

And as we try to adapt to all of these transitions, our environment reminds us that it too must change. Temperatures have dropped, signaling the end of summer and beginning of fall. Thanks Mother Nature. I am not done shopping for fall clothes yet.

Overall I think I'm doing pretty well with all of this crap, considering I am usually thrown off quite a bit when it comes to transition. My mind has been trying to wrap itself around it all, and I haven't gone nuts (as far as I know). But as always, my evil arch nemesis (food, food, freakin' fatty food) has crept up on me again. Damn! I have been doing pretty well for the last few weeks. Barrage me with a few bumps in the road and my ticket to self-esteem hell is right there waiting.

This week that snakey, paunch subconscious has slithered back into my mind, and I never saw it coming. It convinced me it would be perfectly fine to make my loaded baked potato soup from scratch. It said, "go ahead, eat TWO pieces of birthday cake." It opened my recipe collection and assured me that making meatballs and mashed potatoes was necessary. And that sordid serpent even wreaked havoc on my lunch one day and dished me up some Scooby Doo macaroni and cheese.

Disclaimer: In my own defense, I must say I did prepare these things as scaled-down, low fat, low calorie, as I possibly could. But really, there's no excuse for that 2nd piece of birthday cake [and the two margaritas I never mentioned, but they were in celebration of our anniversary so they didn't count] other than it tasted GOOD.

The slate (err....plate?) must be wiped clean again. I'm banishing the snake and the cake. Back in the groove, I hope. Why can't I find comfort in carrots? Nevermind. I don't even like carrots.

a manipulating maneuver

2009-08-19T23:06:00.006-05:00

The instant you become a parent, joy and amazement over each and every milestone becomes part of daily living. Your identity is now forever linked with your child’s, and witnessing their ability to learn and grow is one of the most rewarding aspects of parenting. Heartwarming, isn’t it?

Heh. Yep, that sponge housed beneath their cranium sure is porous. I admit I’ve succumbed to those sweet feelings more than a time or two. Those first smiles get me every time. New teeth, first foods, crawling, you know the list.

The present state of affairs in our humble world consists of our daughter who is only weeks away from becoming a preschooler, and her wannabe-toddler brother, who only months ago was my baby. Damn they grow like weeds! Even as my children outgrow their baby ways, those milestones keep-a-coming. And yes, most times these benchmarks are celebrated, photographed, videotaped, facebooked, blogged, emailed, and documented in every way humanly and technologically possible.

Most times, I said. Not sure about your life, but in our home there are certain achievements that we feel less-than-amused about. While we may share these little tidbits with family or friends, these are the types of events we tend to opt out of reporting to the pediatrician at a well visit. “Oh, yes doctor! Liam is walking, running, climbing like a monkey on crack! In fact, the other day when I wasn’t watching him he climbed onto the sofa and nearly scaled the blinds in the living room. Imagine my horror! Thank God I yanked him down before the blinds were damaged!” (Which YES, is really what I was thinking when I pried his sweaty little palms off my expensive window treatments). “Yes, Quinn’s vocabulary is simply flourishing each day! Just the other day we had the television tuned to an action movie on HBO, and she said, ‘Mommy! Daddy! That man just said FUCKER!’” (You guessed it, true story).

Fearless toddlers are meant to test their behavioral and physical boundaries by exploring their environments from floor to window blinds to ceiling. It’s how they learn to act and move in this world. I get that. And from the moment our children can speak, they can learn any word, so I get that too. Child-proofer, conversation-editor, and constant observer are all listed next to bullets under my trusted copy of the Mommy job description.

And beneath those job duties is listed another very important skill that must be honed—(lest you be overtaken by your children beyond the point of no return):

· Master of escape from parental manipulation

Seriously, how can children learn to be so manipulative? And how can we as parents actually fall victim to the manipulation of a three-year-old? Quinn is GOOOODDD at manipulation. Even great, really. She’s got a GIANT bag of tricks that I would love to steal from her to save my soul. Although her “tricks” bug the crap out of me (and often cause me severe anxiety and make me feel like a sucky mother when I give in), I am always impressed by her creativity and persistence.

Which brings me to the inspiration for this blog about spongy intelligence laced with manipulation…this occurred tonight about 15 minutes prior to dinner being ready:

Quinn: Mommy, I really need something small to eat. (Exhibit 1—using the word “small” indicates she is aware that it’s nearly time for dinner, and that my likely answer is NO—a bargaining tool)

Me: No, honey, dinner is almost ready.

Quinn: But my tummy is hurting! (Exhibit 2—feigned illness to elicit sympathy)

Me: No, sweetie. Dinner will make your tummy feel better. Just wait until dinner.

Quinn: But Mo-om, I NEED something, even TINY to eat NOW, because......I GOT A TIRED ARM! (Combining strategies now, Exhibit 1 again, followed by Exhibit 3—feigned injury)

Here is where I burst out laughing…God, this girl is funny! I am just cracking up, and she’s making her bashful face, trying not to smile when she totally realizes she is caught in the act of concocting some fake drama for the sake of a snack. This lasted maybe an instant, after which she snapped back into MASTER MANIPULATOR MODE,

Quinn: Mo-om! I need a snack now! My tired arm is just waiting!

She drives me crazy, but I love her dearly. She didn’t get a snack. She and her tummy ache and tired arm waited for dinner. Somehow by the grace of God her ailments were cured once we ate.

water resistant

2009-08-13T16:03:00.014-05:00

I often feel as though I’m struggling to keep my head above water, nearly drowning in my endless sea of parenting, household, and career. One thing’s for sure, I’m never bored. This week has brought a fun new challenge in our world: swimming lessons with the kids. Considering these are the very first swimming lessons for both kids, we chose to do a parent-child swim so we could assist and protect our little fishies-to-be.

Looking in a mirror, Quinn is the carbon-copy, feminine version of her dad. Her eyes, lips, body shape, and even her fingernails don’t lie. She is daddy’s girl. But her brain, on the other hand— she got that from me.

Our personalities are so similar it’s almost frightening. She's dramatic, sensitive, opinionated, shy but outspoken, always under-stimulated but leery of change, and amazingly creative yet in need of direction. I’m thinking it was because our personalities are so alike that I assumed she would love the water from the start as I did when I was a child.

Ah, but for some reason I forgot the essential rule of parenting my Quinn: NEVER assume anything, because undoubtedly the unfortunate assumer will be thwarted. Side note: I looked up ‘thwarted’ to be sure it was the most accurate terminology to describe my neverending struggle. Thwart (verb): 1 – to oppose successfully, 2 – to frustrate or baffle. Yep, that’s the right word.

So, our first lesson began with my darling girl squealing, “I’m scared, I’m scared, I’m scared, I’m scared!” the very second our toes touched the water in the zero-depth entry to the pool. I assumed that as our lessons went on, her confidence would increase. [Yes, the joke's on yours truly].

Sometime during the first lesson, Quinn slipped a little somehow, and her head accidently went [barely] underwater. After a small sputter and cough, she screamed and cried for about one minute. After that, she was fine. She even told us later that night that she thought the little mishap was “fun”. Ummm…okay.

Before our second lesson, we were informed by our sweetie that she would not be going underwater EVER again. And boy has she achieved that goal! Mission accomplished--by clutching our necks in a nearly unbreakable death grip. And again, with the "I'm scared!", only this time in more of a shrieking manner, followed by “I WANT TO GET OUT! GET ME OUT!” Thank God the pool is noisy and there are a ton of kids doing lessons at the same time, so only half of the parents (whose children, by the way, are all swimming like fish) were staring at us.

Another side note: the death grip and shrieking were accompanied once by a BITE on my chest that I think surprised Quinn as much as it did me. I can’t explain why she did this, and I think it was involuntary but worth mentioning to emphasize her ghastly fear.

Oh dear. Seven more lessons to go, and at this rate we’ve taken a huge step back each time. Looking on the positive side, she still looks forward to going each night, so at least we have that. And by the way, little 15 month old Liam love, love, LOVES swimming lessons. He is instantly calmed by the water. He laughs throughout the lessons, and shows not the least bit of fear or ambivalence. The child is a dream in the pool.

So what can I learn from all of this? Yes, I need to stop assuming anything. And I suppose I’m going to have to be patient for her trust and confidence to develop. Maybe while I wait, I should try to trust in my family, my friends, and my God to build my own confidence—as a wife, mother, and nurse—and somehow in the process ward off my own “can’t keep my head above water” feeling. Either that, or I just get crazier.

what's with the crazy noodle?

2009-08-13T14:24:00.004-05:00

Maybe you're curious [or don't give a crap at all] about why I'm calling this blog 'my crazy noodle.' First off, I must say I am probably partially crazy, so that part is accurate. Second, I do love pasta. And lastly, the blog is about what's in my head, AKA: noodle. So there you go.

But of course there's more to the story.

A few years ago, err...maybe more than that...okay, I'm sad to admit this likely occurred prior to having children. Anyway, a few years back I was pleasantly surprised when I discovered a culinary delight like no other. A cheesy, green and orange delicacy with a taste that is out of this world.
Of course, I'm talking about Kraft Macaroni and Cheese -- Crazy Noodles!

In the words of Rachael Ray: Yum-O! I have been a fan of mac and cheese since forever. After this amazing discovery, the crazies quickly became a staple in our cupboard. Oh, and the [not so] witty and hilarious digs from my husband were immediate as well. I was often referred to as a 'crazy noodle' because of my obsession with the mac. I didn't mind. I was happy with my status as a crazy noodle fanatic.

Sadly, this story doesn't have a happy ending.

The crazy noodles were apparently a limited edition, as only 5000 boxes were ever produced. (Really I have no idea how many were produced but I wanted to add some drama here).

Imagine my bewilderment when I went to buy my cherished mac and it was nowhere to be found! And whenever I go to buy mac and cheese to this day, I seriously check to make sure the Crazy Noodles have not been resurrected. (I told you I'm partially crazy). Because my husband is such a loving guy, my old nickname does pop up every now and again...and my response is always, "HEY, I LOVED Crazy Noodles!".

So now you really know the whole story. I hope you feel enlightened.

P.S. You, yourself may want to keep an eye out for the reincarnation of the Crazy Noodles. If you need some visual guidance, here is a photo of my beloved: