Update: My Tree

Sadly, my gardenia did not survive the tractor mauling. The leaves are all brown and it leans painfully sideways now matter how many times I adjust the stake which is supposed to support it upright. Thanks, daughter!

I Need More Sleep

I just put a nasty trash bag inside the laundry room and threw away a load of laundry needing to be washed. It didn't even dawn on me till I went into the utility room to put the clothes in the washer and saw the garbage bag in the place where the clothes would have been. So I had to go out to the big cans and dig out our clothes, yuck! The neighbors already think I'm a few cards short of a deck so I'm not worried what they were thinking. It's official: I am NOT getting enough rest. haha! I'm getting tired of making these mistakes; putting milk in the oven and the coffee in the fridge...sigh.

Ahhh...Springtime!

It's so nice outside. This is the three weeks of the year here in Florida before the real heat arrives that we can air the house and survive leaving the AC off...butterflies flutter from azalea to wisteria...children are able to sprint through the sprinklers and blow bubbles in the backyard. It's truly God showing off; giving us just enough beauty to make up for the harsh cold weather we recently endured.
And did I mention the pollen? The boogie noses and yellow cars, the pool we painstakingly clean in preparation for the upcoming months just to watch helplessly as pollen clogs the filter...ah, yes-Spring is here.

We recently went to Home Depot and picked out some potted plants to put in the yard (we have tried seeds and tiny flowers in the past, but they just don't hold up well between the cats, kids, and my neglect). Whilst we were debating which plants were prettiest a gardenia tree caught my eye. It was beautiful-still a baby, but I saw it in the future-tall and strong and in full bloom; there is no comparison to the sweet smell of gardenia...I was intimidated by it youthfulness, you have to understand-I can kill artificial plants. Rick was intimidated by the 30 dollar price sticker, but I got my way and we came home with a cute gardenia tree for the front yard.

We planted it that evening-I carefully chose the perfect spot where I could see it from my kitchen window, since I spend so much time there. I felt a little silly, being so excited about a tree...Then I realized I don't care if it's silly: it's a little baby tree that I get to take care of and it's beautiful, and it's mine. So there.

Each night for the next week I went outside just after dusk after the kids were sleeping soundly and the dishes had been cleaned up and the laundry had..well, had been crammed into the utility room where I could continue to ignore it...I turned the hose on and diligently watered my very own tree, taking care to make sure all the leaves got a drink and saturating the ground all around the fragile little trunk. It made me happy for some reason I really don't know. I'm not exactly a nature girl. I hate bugs, I don't like sweat, all that, but this little tree brought me happiness.

A few afternoons ago I had the doors opened as usual so I could listen to the kids playing. I keep a close eye on them since we live in a subdivision where there are cars driving by. I heard the battery-powered ride-on tractor going and Luke was playing with Tupperware contentedly at my feet. It was a very peaceful day. Imagine my dismay when I glanced out the kitchen window and watched as my daughter plowed over my helpless, innocent tree with her tractor. I yelled out the window, "SARAH-STOP!", but it was too late. And I stood there for a moment too long-in shock-as she swerved around and took aim again, flattening the pitiful plant for a second time.

I flew outside and used every ounce of willpower that I had to NOT pick her up by her hair and throttle her. The smug, satisfied expression on her face just added insult to injury. I promptly gave Patrick a turn on the tractor (with strict instructions to stay the heck away from my tree!) and brought Sarah into the carport for a swat on the backside, which didn't phase her one bit.

It is uncertain whether the gardenia will live or die at press time. Say a prayer.

Patrick had a little bug two nights ago. Poor guy went to sleep and I didn't think anything was wrong. About 15 minutes after I FINALLY laid my poor, sorry head down I heard scuffling, which I knew was Patrick making a spot in our bed. Then I heard coughing...followed by puking. Ugh. So I picked him up and pretty much threw him in the bathroom and made him stand there over the toilet while I picked out new jammies for him and got new sheets for the bed. I put a towel underneath his head and nervously went back to sleep. (By "nervously went back to sleep" I mean I laid down wide-eyed and waited for the next incident.)

This whole scenario took about 30 minutes...meanwhile my hubby was just laying there "sound asleep". I literally had to push him over to get the sheets off/back on. Of course he wasn't asleep-who could sleep through that!? Grrrr. But I played along and let him act oblivious.

About 45 minutes later it happened-then about every 45 minutes for the rest of the night. Yesterday morning he was okay, although he did throw up a couple more times. YAY! I think we are officially in the clear now. Now I'm just praying he keeps those germs to himself and doesn't spread it to the rest of the family. I'm not sure my husband would survive until morning if I had 3 puking kids at one time and he "slept" through it all.

Since the sickness had run it's course I figured we could make bird feeders as a way to get outside and have fun without over-doing it. Making bird feeders is fun and easy...in theory. We simply spread peanut butter on some pine cones and hang them from the little tree in our front yard. Sounds cute, right? WRONG!! We spread peanut butter not only on the pine cones, but on ourselves, the driveway, the kids' hair, the side of the car, the cat who stupidly walked up to see what we were doing. Baby Luke grabbed the pinecones and threw them everywhere so they were covered in dirt and leaves instead of bird seed (no wonder the birds seem unimpressed!). I would have taken photos, but I feared for my camera's life.

We had some birdseed in a plastic bag and we stuck the pine cones in the bag, Shake-n-Bake style. That was simple enough, but in the end we attracted more birds to the grass then to our feeders.

It was fun despite the chaos and mess. By far the most fun I've ever had with a jar of peanut butter. Tomorrow we're making crayons!! Too bad we can't do that outside...

A Boy Thing...??

I am stumped:
Patrick has been having a lot of "accidents" lately. He gets so wrapped up in what he's doing that by the time he realizes he has to go...it's too late. That's cool, I can handle that-I simply remind him more often and make him take breaks from playing to go potty. But the other day he surprised me by going to the bathroom all by himself! YAY, Patrick!! When he emerged he declared: "I peed in my hair!". Umm, what?

Clearly I was disgusted and scrubbed him in the tub. The whole time I kept asking myself, Do other kids pee on their heads? How does one manage to pee in one's hair? I went over the scenario in my mind many times and never came up with an answer. (Except I think I was supposed to be a mother to GIRLS!!)

All In A Day's Work...

My dad stayed with us this past weekend. The kids have never spent time with him before so it was exciting to have him here for the whole weekend!

We went and picked him up Thursday afternoon and on Friday we went about our normal routine. I brought Sarah to school early in the morning and then waited for my dad to wake up. He and I had stayed up pretty late talking Thursday night so he didn't get out of bed till 10:30. He went outside on our back patio to wake up a bit and I decided to bring Luke with me and join him. Patrick was busy in his room playing with his train set. Several minutes of conversation passed and Patrick skipped through the door towards us. Using my excellent powers of observation, I noticed that he was wearing a different pair of denim shorts. I inquired about this change of clothes as it usually means he wet his pants. He denied having an accident, but the "innocent" smile and twinkle in his bright blue eyes alerted me that something truly terrible had occurred.

I went inside the door and saw a puddle on the floor. I was actually relieved at this point because the puddle was on the tile for once instead of on the carpet. Just as I was hollering for Patrick to come inside to help clean up his mess, my voice trailed off and my stomach sank as my my eyes followed the "puddle"....down the entire length of the hallway...and to the carpets on either side of the tile...and down the hall all the way to the bedrooms...

The back of the house was flooded. Literally flooded. I tossed the baby to my dad and ran to the bathroom to turn off the full-force running faucet of the bathtub. The tub had clearly not been drained from bath time and was three-quarters full when Patrick turned the water on. I really should have taken pictures-it was bad. But that was not the time to bust out the camera. I had to move FAST to get towels onto the carpet in order to stop the water from seeping into it even more. Then I had to get the shop-vac from the utility room and take the baby so my dad could start sucking up the water all down the hallway. Of course, this occurred at the exact time I had to get Sarah from school. So I left my poor dad to shop-vac the water while I went to retrieve Sarah.

When we got back to the house dad had the water up from the tile, but the carpet was a different story. I tried everything-spent an hour breaking my back carrying my huge baby and soaking up water with towels, the shop-vac...it was soooo much; there was no way to get it all up. I set up fans to try to dry it to no avail. (Of course my husband came home later that evening and asked what I was doing while the house was flooding. I even had a witness and he still didn't believe me that it was a matter of MINUTES-seriously no more than 3 MINUTES-that all this happened.)

It gets better: while I was slaving away trying to dry up our carpet Patrick dumped out a gallon-sized ziplock baggie full of cookies. I hate trying to explain these disasters to my husband...I know it's hard to believe unless it happens to you, but it does really happen in a blink of an eye, before there's time to react. So I vacuumed up the cookies and as I was putting the vacuum away I heard Sarah and Patrick starting to argue. I sprinted to the kitchen where they were sitting at the bar counter and right in mid-sentence: "STOP-YOU'RE GOING TO SPI....." the kids knocked over my glass of Coke. Onto my laptop. At this point I was at wits' end and spanked both of them on the spot and banished them to their room. I looked at the clock--and shook my head when I saw that it was not even noon.

It is a little sad, but I was glad that my dad was there to witness the events of the morning. He was able to back up my story and basically give me a little credibility with my hubby.

If anyone has any tips for the carpet I would LOVE to hear them. It smells horrible, like mildew. I can't seem to get all the water out no matter what and now that it has been a few days it seems like the damage is permanent. Sigh...

I have come to the conclusion that no matter how much I want to, I do not have power over who my kids are. I had always believed that parents could control how their kids turn out...you know, if they are "good" or "bad", what they like, their personalities. But then I had kids! All of a sudden I didn't know everything! I know it's up to me to keep them safe, happy, and healthy, but most everything else is up for grabs.

I have my little Sarah, my only daughter and I am aware that she is a tad more high-maintenance than most 5 year old girls. She's definitely spunky and mischief follows her like a second shadow; she possibly borders on the edge of normal behavior as far as trouble-making goes. But I don't think she is too strange....

Luke is as close to the perfect baby as you can get, in my completely unbiased opinion. ;) A little clingy, but I like that in a baby.

And then there is Patrick. He's...a challenge. This is not a bad thing necessarily. Just the way it is. Just the way HE is. I have tried to show him which behaviors are acceptable and which ones are not by example, with bribes, by explaining, basically you name it I have tried it. Nothing works-he is definitely his own person. And that drives me crazy! It is so hard to let go of that control...the control I think I am entitled to because they are MY kids. I finally realized they are only mine to raise-they actually belong to God-He only blessed me with the (sometime very difficult) job of taking care of them. I have often asked God why he chose these particular children to be matched with this particular mother. He has not answered, and if He has I was too busy cleaning up some disaster to notice.

Everyday there is something that Patrick does to make me seriously wonder if there was some mix-up at the hospital...did he really come from ME!? Is this weird? I don't know if it is normal to feel that way about your own child? I love him the exact same way as I love my other kids, but he is the only one that makes me question if the right mom got the right babe.

For example: the other day Luke was minding his own business when out of nowhere PatPat walked up to him, bent down, and picked the baby's nose...and ATE what came out. ATE IT! How disgusting is that!?!? It's not enough for him to pick his own nose, he has to do it to his brother, too. All I know is that did not come from MY side of the family.

Another example of Patrick's odd personality: he truly believes he is Peter Pan. Truly. I am just waiting for the day to come we have to visit the ER (again) because he thinks he can fly. For now he is satisfied with jumping off the couch, but I know he will try a more ambitious (read: dangerous) location and it is just a matter of time. He carries a stick around and says it's his "dagger" and he is always rescuing Wendy.

He watches TV on the couch. Seems normal, right? Wrong! He watches it on the couch...upside down, standing on his head. And he comes out of his room every single day with his underwear on backwards as well as his pants. Every day.

Anyway...I guess there's no point except Patrick puzzles me. I hope I'm doing this parenting thing right...