Moving on...

We had walking group this morning, and after waking up early to see company off I wasn't really in the mood. Beginning the day with refusing to change Abigail's diaper because really I've just had enough poopy diapers and she is two and a half and should go on the potty ( this was reason enough for my cranky brain). And then refusing to walk the dog because it was cold outside and then planning on two hours of sequestered studio time...and then the phone rang ....and I was talked into a walk in the frigid barely above freezing morning hours. And it was really good, that whole exercise = endorphions=happiness thing? well whoever thought that up was a total jerk and should have factored in Waaayyyy more chocolate in the equation but I guess it kind of works and you really do feel better after a nice long walk with good friends.

Speaking of good friends how exactly did this little cocoon of friendship get built in my life? all of a sudden I have at least two friends who are really good friends, that live close, that will listen to my crap, watch my kids, and let me watch their kids ( as if that isn't the most amazing thing ever) come over on a moment's notice, and were on full red alert standby the whole month we were expecting Norah. I'm telling you, my girlfriends ROCK.

And so I know they won't mind that I have picture of both of their bums at the same time. :) lol

Tired

How is it possible to be so very tired and yet still continue on? I mean is it really healthy to only have 4 hours of sleep and then drive? I know there are other mamas out there whoa re feeling it too, two specifically I can think of and I am so sympathetic. I think I even get more then they do and I don't know how they move at all. I've always been someone who needed a lot of sleep, 8 to 10 hours, if not more. I love my bed, the warm coziness, nice fluffy feather pillows, pretty sheets, warm comforter. Ahhh... just thinking about it makes me want to cuddle up, right here on this hard hard chair.

Instead I will push through, because Abby and I bought lots of craft stuff to work on today and then there's that indomitable Lunch thing, have I mentioned how very much I hate lunch? Neither breakfast nor supper; lunch is a sticking point in my day, one can't eat fun things like bagels and peanut butter or pancakes for lunch. No really it is fairly well expected that lunch contain more that one food group, and can't contain too much sugar, so no dessert, or syrup. Lunch takes too much time, or else you are stuck opening a can of something that you will eat with relish because it is salty and pre-made and full of preservatives but it will make you GUILTY! ohhh so guilty, and then there are sandwiches, which I think should be called sandwishes, because I wish they would taste better than they do. And really I feel much better after taking out my frustrations of being tired on Lunch. And now I hear Abby wailing after walking with her dad and I wonder why Why WHY does every walk end in wailing?And why can't I break down into tears and whine and cry and thrash and wail when I'm tired? or maybe I am .. will you ever know? you can't see me can you? ;)

"The first guy in my world"

So my daughter has an obsession with small. tiny, miniscule items, be they beads, plastic animals, chips of sparkly sequin, pebbles, and basically anything smaller then a dime. This magpie tendency wouldn't bother me in the least if her toy de jour wasn't so darn hard to keep track of. For example in a brief moment of Norah being asleep and Seth resting trying to rid himself of the cold we've all had Abby and I had an opportunity to take Asia for a nice walk. And it was a great long trek of a walk I let her choose the directions and pick the corners to turn and we circumnavigated our little corner of Spokane over a period of 45 minutes.

I'm thinking Great! 49 degress outside, sunny, no rain, fresh air excercise and she is still clutching her little metal toy froggy in her hand showing him all manner of trees and leaves and sticks and such. This particular froggy is an old necklace charm of mine that was given to me by a friend on my 13 ish birthday, I found him the other day while looking through old boxes and gave him sans necklace chain to Abby. ( mostly because she has a habit of trying to chokle herself with anything resembling a rope, string, chain etc.) . He is a well travelled little metal froggy, and made it around the block and most of the way home.... most.....

So I've finally convinced her to climb the porch steps and head toward the door when the inevitable question arises " but mommy, where's my froggy?".... crap.... seriously? I mean I warned her and told her and tried to put him in my pocket and her pocket and have him 'ride' in my mitten but no... she had to hold him and now I have 4 blocks worth of cement including leaf piles, moldy grass, drains, ditches, mud puddles, and cracks to search for a frog the size of a dime. Not to mention the fact that he is black and green mottled with just the right amount of orange thrown in to look exactly like a leaf on the ground.

Great, okay here I go, down the driveway.. no frog... around to where she picked up a stick.. no frog... mud puddles ( am I really going to put my hand in there? ) well she is following me crying her eyes out bawling " But he was the First guy in my world mommy! that little froggy guy" okay great hand in puddle... no frog.. not by the light pole... not by the mailbox... anywhere on the muddy driveway? fat chance of finding him on the gravel, as he blends right in even on the bright red couch .'okay Abby let's look up here, by the house' ( and not to be fooled, my daughter who is wise to my gently prodding her closer and closer to the house so I can smoothly usher her in the door before she realizes it walks the othe way entirely). SO as she pelts down the driveway calling for "froggy guy! where are you??" and I resign myself to another 20 minutes out here looking for the damn thing I glance at the porch ;

And there by the house, looking as smug as his little froggy face could possibly look is that damn frog on the FRONT PORCH no less, beside the door. Seriously. ANd you should have seen her face, the adoration , the content knowledge that "of course mommy found him ,that is what mommies do". SO am I super mom because I found this stupid frog overs acres of territory? or am I just plain dumb for not looking around my own feet before trekking all the way back to the dirty house around the block with all the toddler luring garbage and mud puddles for a front yard?

No more small shit. only big big big shit. Like maybe I'll buy her a pony.

And when I can pry the little thing out of her grasp I'll take a picture for you all.

Mommy, a blue duck!

SO, I went into a bit of a frenzy on Sunday, and cleaned.. well everything, Norah was sleeping and Abby was supposed to be ( but usually growling in bed while thudding against the wall doesn't count as sleeping). SO got the tub scrubbed, toilet, sink , counter, threw out accumulating crap, and took the pail of old bath toys out of the cupboard. I can't remember why the pail got put up there in the first place, I think there was something about it being too big for hte floor, and we could bring it out every bath and then put it away, and she really only needed a few toys at a time anyways... well turns out Abby totally forgot about it. So last I hear is Mommy! I have to go pee..... thump thump thump thump thump ( toddler running, you'll know the sound if you have one) and then quiet, quiet, quiet.... so I come around the corner from cleaning in the bedroom and there is Abby:

I've decided that clean bathrooms are highly overrated, and besides the platoon of ducks won't move for anyone ( and they kind of scare me) lol

Norah ... sick

My Poor little Googly Bear, she reminds me of her dad like this lol

The Bean of All

A discussion took place at dinner tonight that was pretty interesting and I thought I would share the point of view of my two and a half year old:

A: the bean of all

M: what's that Abby?

A: makes everything talk

M: where?

A: Gone

M: really?

A: A new Bean of all!

A: This one makes the food hot

"I need to go back in my home"

I squirted him back out the little fairy

He's hiding from you

M: Oh really?

A: Don't let the mashed potatoes know

mashed potatos.... NNOOOOO!!

I'm going back in

Beany Weeny

Stop Laughing

Ahh!

I guess I just appreciate the brain power it takes to look at mashed potatos and green beans and come up with something so creative. lol

Flu-ent

Well we are slowly but surely getting over the flu here, and let me tell you, there is nothing more pathetic than a 3 month old with the flu. Yes folks she staved it off for a while but little Norah Pearl has a whopping case of the super snotty, mucous making, scratchy throat high fever influenza type a. I must say that Abby wasn't too bad, yes a little whiney ( okay a lot whiney, like my whine-o-meter is full up for the next two years) but still manageable. Norah has this new cry, I think it is the pathetic baby in the woods cry, the they-left-me-here-to-die cry, the it-really-is-the-end cry, the mommies-heart-is-breaking-and-she-can't-even-help cry. Who knew it would be so devastatingly heartwrenching to have a sick baby. And she isn't even really all that sick. What about those poor kids who have chronic illnesses, MS? gulp even Cancer. ( ooohhh that big C word gives me the heebie geebies) I am so lucky that my children are healthy, yes they have the flu but this will pass, they don't have to have blood transfusions, or operations, organ transplants, radiation, or be told they are incureable. I can cuddle them and say that "everything will be alright" and MEAN IT, know for certain that at least this time it will.

I guess maybe there is a little faith here, that perhaps we have gone through so much with Seth that we can be spared anything else really big, that some part of me is certain that tackling skinned knees, snotty noses, and sleepless nights will be my blessing because Seth endured enough for all of us. Or at least I tell myself this to imagine some sort of balance in the universe, that there is some big ol' something looking out for me saying " you know that Meghan gal, she works really hard, let's skip the big stuff and leave her alone for a while, she really has had all she can handle at the moment."

And so I am holding fast to my conviction, it's just the flu and it will be over soon,

you won't be served more that you can handle,

persevere,

and come out of top.

One Row at a Time

Alright, I finished a knitting project today.

That in and of itself is cause for celebration, a massive outpouring of applause complete with streamers and confetti is expected any moment now... but while I am waiting I'll type a little more to get the kink out of my neck from knitting and nursing at the same time.

The one thing about having children that drove me crazy was not having any time to create, by myself, alone, for massive amounts of time, without interruption. Where I could be a lonely angsty self centered obsessive compulsive nut job artist who only ate because ( well because I really do LOVE to eat, but I told myself it was because I HAD to). But now I realize that there are so many other better things, like knitting mittens for my 2 year old while nursing my 3 month old and watching Anne of Green Gables, remembering myself as an 8 year old.

It doesn't matter if it happens one row at a time, in between changing sides, answering phone calls, tucking in, changing diapers. It will get done, one row at a time, slowly slowly, eventually, it will get done. Time always moves, breath goes in and out, and toddlers can always smell when you are typing a blog post.