life with WE

Seven year olds with fevers...ugh

"I told you I didn't want to be alone!"

I swear I had been asleep all of ten minutes when she came stomping in my room Wednesday night at eleven p.m., making this sweeping declaration.

As I came to, and said, "huh?" she finished in a much softer voice.  "I'm just not feeling very well," she mumbled as she climbed into bed next to me.  Her arms reached for me at the same time her monkey legs wrapped around mine.  I could feel the fever burning through her skin.

...

She barely slept all night.  Waking constantly, tossing and turning, she probably managed about four hours total of sleep.  She was still burning hot, when I left her with her daddy bear for the day.  She seemed a bit better when I got home, but the fever kicked back up to 102 before bedtime.

...

Realizing we both needed some sleep, I busted out our newest thing.  I believe I may have mentioned here on this blog or perhaps in person, that Miss E has had a bit of a rough time adjusting to me taking on a second part time job which keeps me away from her for an extra 1.5 hours a day?  (Totally absurd, because her dad and her brother are here with her!)  Anywho, this panic rears it's ugly head the nights before I work, conveniently at bed time.  So to distract her, I tell her we'll meet in our dreams.  Over the weeks, we've been focusing on our castle, complete with rainbow slide, go-kart track, putt putt, pool, hot tub, wave runners, boats and more.  She's the princess, I'm the queen, Mike's the king and Warren's the knight on the white stallion.  (Which always makes me quote from Shrek 2 - I'm a stallion baby!) 

"Where are you going tonight, Elaine?  I'll meet you there."  She paused to think.  And then in the softest voice she had, she said, "let's meet at the pool.   I'll be in the pink and purple swimsuit.  And let's be sure go to down the waterslides this time." "Done," I concurred.

She slept.

All night.

...

She woke up, still warm with fever, but definitely not nearly as hot (99.8 holla!).  Wrapping her arms around me she said, "mommy, you're my favorite snuggler". 

I hope this fever is done, because although I might be her fave snuggler, I'd sure like her to get back to her own bed this evening!

It's just a fact.

"Everyone knows I have no upper body strength."  One of my cousins said that, and it's hilarious to me.  I think it was Cody, but I'm not sure. 

Third quarter report cards came out recently.  Elaine had gotten better or maintained in each subject, and Warren as usual had his round up of As, although more are A- than A, which to him is like a report card of As and Fs.  For real.  "Why do you have a 2 for effort in PE?" I asked. 

"I don't know.  Oh, maybe because it's that I'm not doing so well on the testing," he suggested.

Testing.  Oh right - the pullups, the sit ups, the sit and reach, the running.  I was NEVER good at those.  Mike was.  Elaine is.  Warren and I?  Not so much.  So I gave him the old 'try your hardest' and 'do your best'.  Elaine said, "I could only do three pull-ups!"  Warren's response?  "I couldn't even do one, but do you know how heavy and long my body is?"

Nice excuse.  I stopped that one in it's tracks, much to his dismay.  "Dude.  It's got nothing to do with your weight and height.  It's got everything to do with your strength.  We can work on that."

Shut down!

Everyone knows Warren has no upper body strength.  I'm just sayin'.

Taking a closer look.

We've had a few long exhausting weeks over here.  It was capped off with a great visit to Indy for the twins' first birthdays.  Birthday?  Birthdays?  2 babies, 1 birthday.  Anywho, I've not really hidden the fact that Elaine has been the main cause of this exhaustion lately; what with her "please don't go to work and just stay here and wait for me" business along with her usual "I'd like to share your body, and please do not pay attention to W, dad or yourself, just me me me."  I've been trying not to let it get to me; trying to enjoy the moments. 

Last night, we got home from our road trip and began the tedious business of unloading, laundry, yard work, groceries, dinner etc.  E had soccer practice, and so she ate dinner after the three of us did.  I thought it would be nice to sit with her so she wouldn't have to eat alone.  I watched her, all disheveled (as usual), popping strawberries in her mouth with gusto.  Raising her eyes to meet mine, she lifted her eyebrow as if asking a question.  I grabbed my camera and snapped a couple of pics.

"Sometimes when I look at you E, I am in awe.  You were such a little person, a baby, and now here you are.  I'm a lucky mom."

Of course she told me she was the lucky one.  And then went back about her business of chomping on strawberries.  When she was finished, I took her outside to show her the nest some birds had built about our outside light.  I wanted to see if eggs were inside it, so I grabbed a pair of binoculars.  Neither E or I could see any, but it was a weird angle to try to see them.  Elaine grabbed the binoculars and told me she was going to "use them to do some investigating.  I'm going to need a clipboard and pen.  I'll head outside and take a closer look at things and take notes.  Would you like to come?"

I bowed out, claiming to have laundry to do.  Honestly, I just wanted to watch her.  This frustrating creature of mine - seven years old and some days on the verge of turning 2, other days about to be 13.  She walked around the cul de sac, looking at plants and people through those binoculars.  Finding me again, she told me, "sometimes, it's good to be alone.  Other times, when you are lonely, you need people.  That's why we have friends."  Hugging the side of me, she went back about her business.

For a manipulator, she sure can be wise!

 

The day finally came.

I knew it was only a matter of time.  I could feel it closing in around me.  The day. 

The day I couldn't help Warren with his homework without doing research.

Oh we were close last week when I helped him study for his social studies test.  In one unit, they covered World War I, The Roaring 20s, The Great Depression, World War II, The Korean War, The Vietnam War, The Cold War, The Oklahoma City bombing, and 9/11.  For real.  All in one unit.  And the focus in fourth grade is on Missouri history, so it was mainly summaries of those things and how Missourians played a part.  Axis Powers and Allied Powers and Austria-Hungary and really the whole Vietnam War gets two paragraphs?  Someone better add more details in a later grade.

But I digress.

Thursday evening, Warren brought me his completed math homework and asked me to double check it.  "Sure buddy," I replied, not even looking as I accepted the paper.  Problem 1 asked that he calculate the volume in cubic units of the pictured cube.

Crickets chirping...

I was good at math!  Volume, volume.  Ah hell, I'll have to google it because of course the kid didn't bring his math book home.  And surely I was not goigng to ask him for help!  Nonsense.  I'm the mome, I'll figure this out.  So I googled.  (God I love the internet.)  To calculate the volume of a cube, you multiply length x width x height.  Sounds familiar, right?  I made it through the problems, got stumped on a word problem, but Warren then explained to me what a rectangular prism was, and flipped to the back side of the page.

What?

A cube was on there, as well as a list of questions about how many faces you could see.  How many 1 faced cubes, three faced cubes, etc.  For real.  I double checked his counting.  But the second object was a weird shape.  He was the most unsure of those answers.  I took a deep breath.

I stared.

I swear the thing moved.

And that's when I told him to go find his daddy and ask him.  Suckers!

(It should be noted that I did look at the map and double check how many states are west of the Mississippi, not counting Louisiana and Minnesota.  22 or 24 - are we counting Alaska and Hawaii?  The question doesn't say contiguous.)

Fourth grade.  I am not smarter than a fourth grader.  ACK!

You're up then you're down...

The good always comes with the bad.  The highs with the lows.  Tiny blips on the radar of life, or monumental moments in history.  Sometimes they happen in waves spaced apart over years, months or weeks.  Sometimes they happen within moments of each other.  Yesterday was one of those 'within moments of each other' times.

The high?  When my W offered to buy Elaine and I frozen custard from our favorite place.  He's been offering to pay for anything and everything lately.  "Do you want to order pizza?  I can pay."  "Can I buy the family a movie for Easter?"  "I'd like to save my money to  buy dad and I really great seats to a Cardinals game."  Kids should save their money to splurge on themselves.  But Warren insists that he wants to treat us to something, anything.  I finally consented to dessert.  "It's nice to buy things for people we love mom, you know that!"  Beaming with pride, he ordered for all three of us, and asked me if it was okay that we got larger sizes than normal.  He wasn't embarassed to be with us.  He sat on the bench and waited with Elaine while I waited for my concrete.  He waved me over when I finally had it in my hand.  People...he. waved. me. over.  He called attention to himself and me!  I mean he pratically shouted to everyone there, "THAT'S MY MOM, PEOPLE!"  Giddy, I was instantly filled the pride of doing at least one thing right on this parenting journey.  He can be a good kid.  Ahh, there's hope for my future yet!

Returning home, we proceeded with our evening.  Showers, reading, teeth brushing etc.  Refilling Elaine's humidifier, I was chatting away with Warren when I saw it.  The inmistakeable pee stain on her fitted sheet.  For reals?  This again?  Asking her about it, she feigned innocence.  "I don't remember peeing in my bed recently."  You don't say... well this giant yellow stained area that reeks, begs to differ.  Mike searched for the wet pajamas, and Elaine stuck to her story.  She didn't remember doing that, didn't wake up with wet pj's. 

Now you and I both know that the girl is lying.  But for a moment, for one brief moment, I thought perhaps it had happened while sleeping and battling this cold she has.  She is a sound sleeper.  I have been medicating her to help her sleep.  I mean this darn cough won't go away.  As I said it out loud, I just knew it wasn't true.  Mike pressed her for more info.  She held strong.  We talked about the importance of telling the truth and how you get in more trouble for lying than you do for being honest about your mistake.

Finally, she balked.  She boo-hoo'd through the whole story of how she's afraid of monsters and the nightlights and flashlight arent enough and she's  a sound sleeper and she knew she did it but thought we wouldn't love her anymore and we wouldn't like her and boo hoo hoo.  People, this might pull at your heart strings, but do not be fooled.  DO NOT BE FOOLED (she mumbles while pumping fist in the air to no one in particular).  I have told that wee one that we will love her no matter what at least a bajillion times.  I've told her that I will like her even if I don't like the decisions she makes. 

So I called her on it.  Her justified lie.  Her BS, but I didn't say BS because she'll totally repeat it and then her teacher will get mad at me - Hi Mrs. Quirke!  "You know very well that your dad and I love you no matter what.  There is no excuse for lying to us.  Lying has consequences."  She thought on that for less than a minute before asking, "but why consequences for me?  I was just scared to tell you."  Yeah, see?  Scared of getting in trouble.  I know, I'm heartless.  My girl wears her heart on her sleeve, which makes her lovable and squeezable and squishable and beautiful - inside and out.  However, she is also learning the subtle art of manipulation quite well.  I mean if you ask her, she's still some little baby who's too young to be held to the same standards as Warren.  Ugh, it's exhausting.

A pretty darn good high, and a blip of a low.  All in a day's work, right?

PS - Happy Birthday to my twin niece and nephew Harper and Colton!  They are ONE today.  ONE!  We get to see them this weekend at their birthday celebration.  Hooray!  Let's see if I can ruin them while I'm there.  I'm sure I can figure out some way!

Still needs his mom even at double digits!

Mike being out of town is always hardest on dub. So I asked him if he would like to sleep on his dad's half of the bed last night. "Absolutely!" He was pumped. I explained that we could not let e know because it would break her heart.

W: Well she does get the most snuggles from you.
Me: She seems to neeeeeed them while you don't really like people touching you.
W: I still need your snuggles to live!
Me: Huh. I had no clue!

Turns out he does still like me and wants to be snuggled! Hooray! He sure acts like he is done with me...

Once again, they were right. I sort of hate they now.

For an upcoming project at school, I am supposed to email a picture of myself and my second grader together to a teacher.  Of course, Elaine is ALL OVER this.  I've forgotten about it, and keep re-setting my calendar reminder so that eventually it will get done.

Yesterday morning, after getting ready for work, I had Mike take a pic with E and I together.  Elaine of course would like to have this framed and put in her room.

As I cropped the picture and resized it to email, I couldn't help but notice the resemblance to my mother.  And my Aunt Heidi.

I'm kind of freaked out.  Don't get me wrong, I see a lot of my dad in me, but still, here I am, looking just like my mother.  OMG THEY WERE RIGHT - WE ALL TURN INTO OUR MOTHERS!

I'll have to find a pic of them to prove it.  Meanwhile, if you know my mom and aunt - check it out.  Freaky stuff!

Also, seriously, could she BE any closer to me?  I don't think so! 

Unfinished work.

My inbox is filled with draft emails I have yet to send.

This is generally because I'm missing a piece of information I need or an email address.  For instance, last Thursday I started an email to my cub scout den about requirements we need to work on at home, but I couldn't be bothered to reference the pages of those requirements until um, this morning, which is when I finally sent the email.

My blog post box is filled with half started, half written posts that have yet to be posted.

When did I become a person who waits to pull the punch?  When did I start holding back until my thoughts were a little more 'composed'?  Clearly this isn't an all the time thing as I have posted plenty of random strings of thoughts filled with poor grammar as well as typos.  But recently, I've started a lot of writing that I haven't finished.

Some people would think this is a good thing.  In theory, it's great.  I should draft, re-read, and then post.  But generally speaking, these are posts I've written when I'm upset or angry or frustated by something or some system and I'm too scared to post them.

Me, scared?

I know, right.  Wait a minute.  You know I like pretending to be a bad ass, but I'm not really one, right?  Surely you know that about me by now!  While I'm starting these posts, my fingers fly across the keyboard as if they are filled with the emotions flowing through my head.  And yet, I can't click the giant "PUBLISH" button when I'm finished.  Good or bad, it is what it is.  I save those drafts.  All of them.  In a giant folder on my blog provider's server somewhere.  Sitting, waiting...  Perhaps one day I'll suck it up and hit publish.  But maybe not.  Maybe those are my modern day version of old 'Dear Diary' entries.  Those are the things I would write in my velvet journal with the silver embossed unicorn on it.  (OMG it was so cute you guys.  Now when I find it, it cracks me up!)  Entries meant just for me, just for my therapeutic purposes.

I need to be more brave.  Less afraid.  New resolution - once a month I will go through my drafts and force myself to publish at least one of these unfinished posts.

Or not.  It depends on if I took my big girl pill that day!

Um yeah. It's weird over here.

Life here at House of WE has changed these last two weeks.  Good changes, I think, but regardless, adjustments have been required.

I have taken a second part-time job.  In addition to working for my friend, I'm working at an office two days a week.  Those two days require me to leave before the kids get on the bus and to be home after the kids are home.  Mike's sales job is flexible so he's able to get them on the bus and after.  I have had to quit my regular volunteering up at the kids' school, because it's never the same day each week and it's too hard to manage the schedule.

This is all unacceptable to one Miss Elaine.

It's been all of two weeks and her world is shaken to the core, or so she thinks.  The amount of tears and weeping is ridiculous, and it's just for show.  Becuase when it comes down to it, once I'm gone, she's great for Mike going to the bus.  When she gets home and Mike's the one who is here, she goes about her business as usual - snacks and then playing with her friends outside.  Just as she would do if I were home.  But in the evenings, she boo hoos.  And begs for cuddles.  And begs for it all to be as it once was.

"I just want you stay at home and wait for me while I'm at school.  I want you to volunteer at school again.  When we have enough money, can do you do that?  Just wait for me?  I need to see your face when I walk in the door."  Those are her demands.

Morning time is similar.  She's pouty, and prone to weepiness.  It makes for a fun departure.  This isn't necessarily pulling at my heart strings; it's more annoying than anything else.  I know this will all fall into place and things will run smoother in no time.  However, in the now time?  It's a hot mess.  Elaine's crying.  I'm on the edge - I can't get my act together in the evenings.  Mike's stepped up his game - busting ass on laundry and dinners.  Warren?  I don't even think he's aware.  God love a ten year old boy.  If it's not on his ipod touch, he doesn't see it or hear it.

I've had to apologize for being bitchy.  Mike and my sisters seem to be taking the brunt of it.  I'm so frustrated with myself that this is so hard for me to manage.  I mean for the love of Pete, it's not rocket science.  People work full time jobs - bazillion hours a week - and I can't pull it together for a total of like 24 and still run my life?  I'm a control freak.  I feel when Mike does the laundry I'm indebted to him.  I know that I am not.  He's always helped.  But my house is kind of messy, the laundry keeps piling up, I can't get to my fave Zumba classes, and I'm tired and stressed.  I see Mike doing the laundry and I feel like a failure.  It's absurd.  My mind is absurd.  It's amazing the things Zoloft can do for anxiety, but it's got nothing on cuckoo thought.  I'm so frustrated by myself and yet I know any change can throw things off for a bit. 

Ugh, I'm exhausted and whiny. 

Oh and when I used to volunteer at school?  Part of that time I spent with a kindergarten class.  Each of those kids made me a card thanking me and telling me they missed me.  Ohmagawd, I cried like a baby reading those. 

It'll all be okay.  These changes, they are good for all of us.  My kids are learning more independence, I'm helping out more financially - in very small ways, but whatever, and I'm learning to let go.  As is Mike.  He says everyone's made it where they are supposed to go this week, we're all wearing clean clothes and we've managed to have dinner each night.  Mark those in the win column and call this week done.

Next week is a new one.

I'm closing the comments because if any of you tell me to suck it up, I might lose it.  Even though I know I absolutely need to suck it up, I can't bear to hear it right now.  You now?  I'm yelling it at myself.  Trust me.

Say it without singing it. I bet you can't.

While you're waiting for me to get on the editing of the pictures and to write something already, perhaps you were wondering what Mike looks like holding an anaconda.  Also, can you say anaconda without singing, "my anaconda don't want none unless you got buns hun"?  Because I can't.  I have sang that in my head three times just while typing that.  (Also, you should get me just a bit loopy (or a lot) and hand me a kareoke mic.  I can rap the snot out of Big Butts.  No lie.)

Again, I won't have you wait a moment longer.  Here's Mike and a six year old, 25 pound anaconda who the reptile guy referred to as "the sweetest girl you'll ever meet". 

Also, it should be noted that Elaine is making me bonkers right now and I can't even put it into words without rambling on and on, so perhaps in a day or two I'll have a more succinct explanation.  It's not likely, but it's possible!