Tired Mama.com

Tired and Cross-Eyed Mama

I just finished applying for University.

Okay, I just finished helping my oldest daughter apply to University.

But, I gotta tell you, with all I had to do I kinda feel like I just applied myself.

I tried to just help and not hover, but honestly?

For some of these programs, she needed someone to help her. 

All of the programs she applied to required supplementary essays. Most of the programs asked for resumes. They all had applications that needed a second eye to look them over and make sure at least all the boxes were checked off correctly.

She also applied to several studio art related courses that required large portfolios to be created, then photographed, color-checked and finally uploaded.

Everything had to be double-checked and triple-checked before it was sent.

Most of my daughter's applications were fifteen-checked.

Don't get me wrong, my daughter did the majority of the work but I read and re-read everything until my eyes were crossed this week.

And now, with the exception of the one application she is still working on, she's done.

And now, she waits.

And so does her cross-eyed Mama - with all my fingers crossed.

Losing Things

My daughter has lost her dance slippers.

Again.

She had them for her ballet class last week but when she went to get ready for class tonight the slippers were nowhere to be found.

But I know they'll show up again.

These things always do.

Yep, usually right after I go out and replace them.

But my question is, how long do I wait?

Her teachers seem pretty patient about it right now, but at some point I am going to have to invest in new slippers.

At least she's still in the beginner classes where the shoes are still slip-on style and affordable.

I’ve decided that this is why the older girls who buy those really expensive fitted ballet pointe shoes have ribbons around their ankles.

I used to think it was so the shoes stayed in place or because they looked pretty.

But now I'm pretty sure the ribbons are there to keep the kids from losing the darn things.

Sigh.

How Old Do I Look?

I was out shopping for my twelve year old daughter today and I ended up at a popular tween store looking at hooded sweatshirts and trying to decide between two sizes for her.

Across the display from me was a woman with a young girl, about my daughter’s age and size, who was pulling on the same sweatshirts and zipping them up to check for the right size.

I politely called over and asked them what size the girl was trying on, explaining that I was trying to figure out the correct size for my own daughter.

They told me and I thanked them.

As they walked away, the mother, a lady about my age, told me she hoped my GRANDDAUGHTER liked the sweatshirt I had picked.

I sputtered out to her retreating back that I was buying it for my daughter, not my granddaughter.

I don't think she heard me.

And then?

I laughed.

But honestly, thinking about it now?

I should have slugged her.

Granddaughter. 

Hmmph.

Gotta love it when things work out well...

Yesterday was my daughter's birthday, so last week I decided to try and send her flowers to celebrate the day.

Since my oldest is currently studying in Europe trying to order flowers for her, given my pathetic French language skills, was challenging.

While I was trying to place my order I was asked if I wanted to send my daughter a brown teddy bear along with the flowers.

'Sure,' I replied.

Today, along with a thank-you note, my daughter sent me a picture of what arrived yesterday.

As you can see my daughter didn't get a brown teddy bear, which leaves me wondering what that poor European lady was really asking me in French.

Oh, dear.

But let’s not ponder that too much because in the end, everything was fine, better than fine really because the stuffed animal that some stranger randomly chose to send with the flowers looks an awful lot like someone who loves my girl and is missing her back home. This gal,

Gotta love it when things work out better than planned.

Peter Pan is my role model

My daughter turns eighteen in five days.

Eighteen.

And tomorrow she gets on a plane to leave home to return to school.

So, I won't be with my girl on her eighteenth birthday but I'm okay with that because we celebrated her birthday as a family today.

My baby is almost all grown-up. She's spent the last two weeks applying to colleges and universities and is busy planning her future.

It's all good. Fantastic, even.

But what I can't understand is how she got to be so old while I'm still so young.

I know, according to the math, I'm old enough to have a child this age but I don't really feel like I'm old enough to have a daughter this uh, OLD.

Honestly, most days I still kinda feel like I'm twenty-something.

I'm sorta like Peter Pan in that I don't want to grow up or get older.

Actually, I'm okay with the idea of being a little bit older and having to be independent and responsible, I just don't want to get really old and fall apart physically and uh, lose what I still have left of my mind. 

Sometimes, like tonight, I feel like I'm heading to old age at lightning speed.

Still, according to Google Peter Pan was created in 1902 and he looks pretty spry and wrinkle-free for 110.

So, I guess there's hope.

I hope. 

How old do you feel?

One more day

One hundred and seven days ago, my oldest daughter got on a plane and left to go overseas for school.

She's doing great but I totally underestimated how much we would miss her.

Honestly, I didn't even know I could miss someone this much.

But tomorrow she will be coming home for Christmas.

Skype is fine, but it's just not the same as looking into her beautiful blue eyes in person.

Today I am feeling very blessed because for the next two weeks all my children will be home again.

They will all be sleeping in their own beds, bickering with their siblings, rolling their eyes at me, eating everything in sight and making a huge mess of my house. 

Honestly?

I can't wait.

What's going on at your house this Christmas?

Yes, boys are goofballs...

My youngest daughter is at a friend's house, just two doors down, with six other tween girls getting ready to attend her first school dance.

It's her first girl/boy dance and she's excited.

In a few minutes, she will come home so I can do her hair for the event. 

While she's here I need to find a minute to talk to my daughter about the boys who are going to be at tonight's dance.

My youngest has grown up watching High School Musical and more recently, a few episodes of Glee so I feel like I should warn her that the tween boys she is going to meet tonight might not behave exactly like the boys she's been watching on TV.

There will probably be no young boys asking her to dance or gazing into her eyes to tell she is beautiful tonight. (But, they should because she IS beautiful).

What I really need to tell my girl is that most, okay, ALL of the boys she meets at tonight’s dance will probably be um, goofballs. 

Nice boys, yes, but at twelve and thirteen years old?

They'll be goofballs.

The boys will probably stand on one side of the gym, throw things at each other, and not even pay attention to the girls.

Honestly, my daughter needs to not even really consider a boy to be a BOY until she’s almost eighteen because until then, in my experience, they’re all goofballs.

Actually, some guys are goofballs for a good long time after they're eighteen too.

But, because my daughter is almost thirteen?

I'm pretty sure she's not going to hear a word I say on the subject.

Sigh.

Do stores HAVE to make price adjustments?

On Friday, I was in a store, which is part of a well-known American home and design chain, and I bought a rather expensive but good quality duvet cover for my oldest daughter’s bed.

It's exactly 17 days (and yes, I'm counting and yes, I'm excited) until my oldest daughter comes home for Christmas and I'm trying to pretty up her room a bit for her.  

After I made my purchase, I went home, opened up my e-mail and found an ad from the same chain informing me that the EVERYTHING in their stores was going to be 15% off all weekend.

It just figures, I thought.

Yesterday, I had to be back in the same area of this particular store with my youngest daughter, and the sale was still on, so I thought I would take the duvet cover back and get my receipt adjusted. 

The woman behind the counter told me she could not refund me the difference. She then called over the manager who told me the same thing.

I sighed.

I still had my receipt and the duvet cover was still in its original packaging in perfect condition so I politely told them that I wanted to return it. My receipt stated that I had 90 days to do this.

The manager sputtered and told me that I couldn't return the cover as I might just turn around and rebuy it and expect the sale price.

Exactly.

Finally, after a few minutes of silence and me not budging from the front of the counter, the manager took back my purchase and then re-sold it to me with the discount.

So, here’s my question.

Shouldn’t the manager have adjusted the receipt as soon as I asked? Don't they have to do this? Is there a law? If the price drops within twenty-four hours of a purchase, doesn't the store HAVE to adjust the price if the customer asks for it? I must admit I don't like confrontation and I almost walked away. 

In the end, this particular manager gave me the discount so I'm not going to drag their store name through the social media mud, but really does anyone know how this stuff works?

Let me know what you think.

 

A Pirate's Life for Her...

My twelve-year-old daughter and I were at a music festival this morning.

Lizzie sang beautifully and placed well.

As we were leaving, an older volunteer stopped my daughter and complimented her on how she did. 

My daughter thanked him politely and we talked to him for a little while about music, his children, the festival and a whole bunch of other things. 

Then, as we were getting our things together to leave, he continued the conversation by asking Lizzie if she knew what she wanted to be when she grew up, he obviously was thinking that she would tell him that she wanted to be a musician of some sort.

But, my youngest has been asked this question a few too many times lately.

And, she doesn't want to lie, but Lizzie honestly doesn't know what she wants to be when she grows up but she's also smart enough to realize that the older generation at these festivals want her to tell them that she intends to study music.

So, when he asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, she replied, completely straight faced, that she wanted to be, a pirate.

Yep, a pirate.

The gentleman chuckled, patted her on the head and walked away.

I still can't decide if I should be punishing her for being sassy or compliment her on finally finding a way to dodge this question so successfully. 

Sigh.

Smile, when your heart is aching...

I have a cold. 

I’m pretty sure I got my cold from the person who threw up on me during my return flight from visiting my oldest daughter at school.

Yep, thanks to Hurricane Sandy, it was a bit of a rough flight.

I started Monday feeling gloomy as I was leaving my oldest daughter. I then made a two hour train ride lugging a fifty pound suitcase (yes, I bought too much stuff), an eight hour plane ride (where I was thrown up on) and then I hopped on a short connecting flight to finally get home.

There is a six-hour time difference between here and where my daughter's school is located. 

So, by the time I got to the end of my travels I was tired, slightly disoriented, sad and um, smelly.

But, also because of the hurricane, my husband’s scheduled work flight had been delayed so, when I finally did arrive at my home airport, I looked through the glass partition and saw my husband and my youngest daughter waving at me. They had come to the airport to pick me up.

This was unexpected and it made me smile.

***

Hurricane Sandy has devastated the town in New Jersey where my youngest daughter was born and where we lived for seven years. I know my friends living there will not be reading this today because they still don't have power and some of them have even had their homes destroyed.  

So, to all of you affected by the storm, I just want you to know that my thoughts are with you and I'm hoping you're all safe.

And, I'm also hoping that something unexpected happens for you today that will make you smile too.

Hugs.

They get into EVERYTHING

Once upon a time, I had three young children.

As any mother with multiple young children knows, there are always moments that while Mom is busy with one of her babies another will be busy getting into trouble.

My trio were no exception. 

There was one memorable day when my son, who was about four years old, managed to lock himself in the upstairs main bathroom.

Trying to teach a four year old how to unlock a door by yelling through a locked door is tricky. But, after a few minutes we managed and he was free.

During this adventure, I had left my youngest daughter in the downstairs play/family room. She was gated in and couldn’t escape but what I didn't know was that I had put my purse down in the playroom too.

As soon as my son was free and comforted, I headed back downstairs to check on my youngest and looked into the room to see my purse contents strewn on the floor and my baby smiling angelically up at me, covered in a sticky red substance. 

Blood? My heart literally stopped.

But, as I jumped the gate and picked her up, I quickly realized that she was smiling and proudly showing me her hands. She wasn't covered in blood at all, she was covered in lipstick.

Yep, lipstick. Two in fact, two brand new red and pink lipsticks that had been taken from my purse and then smooshed up. 

The best thing about this mess being made by a third child was that I was now experienced enough to laugh at her and to take a picture of the mess before I threw her in the bathtub.

So, I give you Exhibit A:

What you can't see from this picture was where these hands had been before I had found her. 

Yeah, I had little lipstick handprints through the entire playroom. On every toy. On every window pane. On every wall.

And lipstick? It's greasy stuff that's not that easy to clean off walls, toys or baby hands.

Sigh.

So tell me, what do your kids get their hands into?

Lysol wants to help moms, like us, feel confident that the Lysol No-Touch Hand Soap System will help keep our little ones’ hands clean and germ-free no matter what they get into.

Lysol is excited to be running a special contest for your Kid Who Touches Everything and your local school with the announcement of the Lysol No-Touch Hand Soap ‘Is Your Kid a Kid Who Touches Everything?’ Photo Contest!  This awesome contest will award the grand-prize winner a $10,000 cash prize and $10,000 to donate to a school of their choice!

To enter the contest, simply go here and submit a photograph of your child exploring and discovering his or her world in their dirtiest, messiest, stickiest, and germiest situations. 

Oh, and after you enter, please come back here and let me know in the comments section that you have so I can vote for you!

 

“Disclosure: I am part of the Lysol® Healthy Families Ambassador Program by Mom Central. I received compensation as part of my affiliation with this group.  The opinions on this blog are my own.”

She's ready to change things...

The good thing about a 12-year-old girl returning home from four days at a well-run inspirational leadership camp is that she comes home fired up, ready to change the world and full of great ideas of all the things she can do to help make the world a better place.

The bad thing about a 12-year-old girl returning home from four days at a well-run inspirational leadership camp is that she comes home fired up, ready to change the world and full of great ideas...

You get my point.

And, if my daughter does even half of what she wants to do, she is going to be a very busy girl, and me?

I'm going to be very tired.

Sigh.

Please, leave my stuff alone. Please.

Remember these? You used to see them all the time at banks.

Since I now do all of my banking either through machines or on-line, I'm not even sure they still exist.

Just in case some of you don't recognize them, this thing is called a security pen. The idea behind it is that you bolt it to a counter and then customers can't accidently walk away with the pen.

All of the banks used to have them.

I want one.

And, when I get it, I'm going to attach one end to my bathroom counter, remove the pen, and attach the other end to my hairbrush.

Yes, my hairbrush.

And yes, I do have a tween daughter, how did you guess?

Sigh.

Time slides by...

When my oldest daughter was a toddler, she loved slides.

When I took her to our neighbourhood playground she would go up and down the slide until her little legs were too tired to go up the stairs any longer, only then would she let us go home.

For my daughter's second Christmas, Santa brought her a bright red plastic slide.

The slide was about five feet tall and the rest of our sparkly Christmas celebrations were completely overshadowed by my daughter's joy of having found her own slide, in her own living room no less, on Christmas morning. 

This morning, I am sitting at my desk in the front window of my house watching some of my neighbours stroll down the street towards our playground park with their own little ones and I'm wondering if they have slides over in Switzerland.

And if they do, is seventeen too old to go down a slide?

Yep, I'm still missing her. 

Good Morning to you too...

If you're a regular here you'll know that my oldest daughter has moved overseas.

This, of course, has changed our family dynamics a bit. We're adjusting, but every day I seem to be finding another hole in our daily family routine that she’s left.

There's less laundry, shoes in the hallway and jackets flung in the mudroom since she's been gone. 

And, I've discovered, my daughters room? It has a FLOOR. Shocking what you find under mounds of clothes and art supplies.

My other children have picked up the slack and are setting the dinner table and emptying the dishwasher more frequently in her absence.

But, the one thing I didn't realize my daughter was doing every morning was turning on her bathroom sink tap to a trickle so our beloved silver tabby cat could get a morning drink of fresh water straight from the source.

Yowl.

That's what I'm waking up to now.

Yowl, yowl. YOOOOOOOWL.

Now, that my daughter's away, the cat is insisting that someone else take over the chore.

Loudly. 

So, guess who now has a new chore to do every morning, sleep in day or not?

Yep. Me.

It wouldn’t be so bad but I keep forgetting to go back in and turn the darn tap off again.

Dumb cat.

She's such a tween

Ever had a tween give you the 'look'?

Not the rolling eye look, that's the one that lets you know she thinks you're the dumbest person on earth, but the evil eye look, the one that says, if she could, she would shoot you dead and then erase the last twelve years of her life and pretend she was born to a different mother.

I got that look from my beloved youngest daughter today.

And, you know what I did?

I laughed.

Loudly.

In response, my baby girl glared at me sullenly and then a few seconds later she laughed too.

Because, even she realizes, that when you're the third child, you really have to learn to laugh at youself because no one in your family is going to ever take any of your pre-teen angst seriously.

It's tough being the youngest.

Thank goodness, so far at least, my girl seems to have a sense of humor about it.

Today, I'm sad.

Why does the whole world insist that we ALWAYS have to be happy? Everywhere there is stuff telling us that we should be grinning and joyful. All. the. time.

Well, I am sad today.

'Don't be sad,' said my husband when I told him. 'I don't like it when you're sad.'

Well, that's nice but um, TOUGH.

I'm sad and for the next few days I've given myself permission to be sad.

I'm sad because I’m missing my daughter, I'm sad because I'm missing the freedom of summer vacation and I'm sad because the beautiful hot weather we've had this summer has moved on. 

You see, right now I just don't care that my oldest daughter is off having the adventure of a lifetime and is doing great. I want her here with me, making me laugh the way only she can make me laugh. I got used to having her around over the past almost eighteen years and I LIKED it. I honestly DO NOT WANT her to come home, I want her to have this adventure and be happy but, her being away? It makes me SAD.

I also don't care that Fall is my favourite time of the year and that soon we'll be enjoying beautiful crisp colourful autumn nights. I loved the hot summer weeks we had at the cottage this summer. I want them back and the thought of having to wait another nine months to enjoy them again makes me SAD. 

And finally, now that it's September I'm having to get back to serious work, get my children to their activities and figure out school schedules again. I like routine, and I like that my kids are busy, but I miss the easy going, lazy days of summer too. I am SAD that summer is over.

So, world? Quite telling me to cheer up.

I will be cheerful again - soon.

Just not today.

Today, I'm going to be sad.

And if you don’t like it? Go read someone else’s blog.

Yeah.

But come back in a few days. I'll be happy again, I promise.

 

Edited to add: I just found my daughter and her group on Facebook, and that tipped me over to thrilled for her and happy again. She's in the mountains petting goats! Goats! Goats on mountains are so cool, don't ya think? :)

All her bags are packed...

Dear J,

In a few short days you are going to be leaving home.

I am thrilled for you. But yes, I'm sad too.

I know I keep saying it, and feel free to roll your eyes if you like, but I can't believe how fast you've grown up.

The day I found out I was pregnant with you I was thrilled. I was also terrified. Then, I began to eat everything in sight - especially donuts. I craved donuts when I was expecting you and now you don't even like them. I find that weird.

I will never forget the day you were born. Right away they handed you to your Dad and I remember watching you with him. You were only minutes old and you began to cry but when your Dad spoke you immediately stopped and turned your head towards him, you already knew his voice and understood that in his arms you were safe. You were right.

You made me a Mom and you turned my world upside down but we figured things out together. The diaper changing was easy, but the nursing didn't go quite as well. You slept through the night early and you walked late. You were always a busy, happy and relaxed little soul.

As you grew older you loved colouring, music, stuffed animals and books. You still do. 

Then, when you were almost three and just over five, we gave you a little brother and a little sister. Have you forgiven us yet?

Don't answer that.

When you started grade school your teachers all loved you. You were polite, bright and well behaved. You were a dream student.

As our family grew we decided to drag you to the USA and then the UK to live and you loved moving around. While you were there you met new people and saw new places. You made friends easily, you saw their worlds and you always wanted to see, do and learn more.

After ten years we brought you back home, you went to high school, and you made more friends - lovely friends. I will miss coming home to find all of them in my kitchen baking brownies, eating chips and just chillin’ with you.    

Because now, you are seventeen and leaving home. I suppose I only have myself to blame, we’ve always encouraged you to see the world and to find the right place in it for you. So, I really shouldn’t be surprised that the first place you’ve chosen to go is an airplane ride and an ocean away.

But, my heart is breaking because you're leaving me. I know I will spend every night for the next few months going to your room at bedtime where I will stand by your empty bed and miss seeing you there, knowing that you are safe, at home, with me.

And, I will try not to worry about you, but I still will.

The hardest part of being a mother, I now know, is letting go. 

Still, I wish for you a journey of fantastic adventures and growth. Go safely my beloved daughter and discover new things, see different places, meet new people, dream your own dreams and then - chase them.

Be safe and Skype often.

And know I love you with all my heart,
Mom

Not much going on here...

Ever been really busy, but not sure what you've been busy at?

Most of my hours this past week have been taken up watching and driving to my son's baseball games. His team played amazing and reached the final championship game, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad they were now done. Six games over seven days is enough little league for this Mama.

This upcoming week I plan to get everyone ready for going back to school. Papers, pens, clothes and all the other school paraphernalia still need to be bought. But, I think I have a plan to get it all done, so it’s all good.

Then there's the small fact that my oldest daughter leaves the country in nine days.

Nine.

For four long months.

Let's not talk about that though or I'll cry, and a soggy blog is a yucky blog.

And, I guess I should tell you that my youngest got back from camp yesterday. She's happy, she's lost her voice and she's painted bright yellow. Yeah, she painted herself yellow at camp and this paint they used? It's not coming off. It's weird having a canary yellow coloured kid.

And that's all I have to share at the moment.

So, how about you? Anything interesting going on in your world?

Look that word up, okay?

My youngest is 12. I should know, I was there and I have her birth certificate to prove it too.

Lately however, she seems to be under the impression that she is 18.

A few minutes ago, she came into my office to show me a pair of shorts that she was planning on taking to camp.

'How do they look?' she asked.

I had her do a spin and then, satisfied with the length and fit, I replied.

'They're cute and the fit is adorable.'

She gave me her best evil eye.

'What?' I asked, looking up from behind my laptop.

'I don't want to be cute or adorable,' she replied.

'Oh, what do you want to be?' I naively asked.

'Sophisticated,' she replied and flounced out of my office.

Yes, flounced.

And um, sophisticated?

In jean shorts and a t-shirt?

I wonder what I'm supposed to say when she's in a prom dress?

But, you know what the really sad part is?

I am entering those years of her life where, in her opinion, I will not know anything or be able to do anything right.

The next six years should be uh, interesting.

And, kinda sad.

And possibly, downright scary too.

Sigh.

 

This is hard. Really hard.

In roughly twenty days, my oldest is moving out.

As in leaving my house, jumping on an airplane and moving to another country for a year of school.

I'm blaming my husband for this.

Yes, I know I agreed and actually was the one to research this program. I might even have helped her apply and celebrated her acceptance, but that's not the point.

I mean, I didn't expect her to really go.

My husband was supposed to say, no. That's his job, right? He was the one I was counting on to stop the fun.

Except he didn't.

And now, she's leaving and I am seriously freaking out, while pretending to be cool.

Yes, my daughter is ready. Yes, she's going to have the time of her life. Yes, it's wonderful.

Except it's not.

My baby girl, my first born is LEAVING me.

Did I mention I'm freaking out inside?

My way to deal with my inner turmoil is to organize her. I'm helping her pack, I’m making lists, I’m buying things, and I’m cleaning and organizing her room.

I am also driving her crazy.

If it was up to my daughter she would grab an extra pair of jeans, a few empty sketch books, her drawing pencils, her plane ticket and be out the door.

I, on the other hand, have decided that she needs at least three pairs of boots and seven different jackets. I also like the idea of her taking clean underwear along.

It's going to be a long twenty days, but it's also going to go by far too quickly.

Sigh.

Really, really, REALLY big sigh.

Tapping our way through Wal-Mart

Yesterday my youngest daughter and I went to see the musical, 42nd Street.

We loved it, it's a cute story, the singing was great and the dancing in it was phenomenal.

If you've seen 42nd Street you'll know there are a lot of tap numbers in it, and they are fast and furious and very impressive.

But, I didn't really realize the influence this show was having on my child until this afternoon when she and I went to Wal-Mart.

You see, since my daughter had been singing with her choir earlier this morning she was still wearing her low-heeled black dress shoes when we went shopping.

Did you know that these kind of shoes sound just like tap shoes on Wal-Mart's tiled floors?

Yep, if you bang and shuffle those shoes just right you can dance and tap your way through Wal-Mart.

It took my kid about four seconds to figure this out.

You know what else? It's sweet for about five minutes and then it's just loud and REALLY annoying.

So, for all the people who were smiling at my daughter today at Wal-Mart thinking her tapping was cute and encouraging her to continue.

I hate you.

And, at the end of an hour of shopping and dancing when I finally yelled at her to knock it off before something bad happened to her, if you are wondering what that would be, I'm here to tell you.

I took her to Dairy Queen.

Because yes, kids should dance, even if it is annoying and even if it is at Wal-Mart.

But, you know what else?

She is NEVER wearing those shoes again.

Ever.

Sigh.

 

Trying to do too much...

I just got back from a quick trip to the city where I handed over my daughter's passport at the Swiss Embassy so they could place a travel visa in it.

The consulate is only open very limited hours in the summer so I was racing through heavy Friday morning big city traffic to try to get there on time.

I made it with about fifteen minutes to spare.

I raced in, ran out and was thrilled that I got back to my van before the very expensive and again, very limited parking time ran out on the meter.

Then, as I was driving home, I realized that I never really looked at the passport before I handed it over at the embassy.

I think it was my oldest daughter's passport.

But, it could have been mine or her sisters or her brothers too - they all look the same on the outside.

Ah, well.

Someone in my family is going to get a visa to travel in Switzerland this fall.

Let's just hope it's the one we booked the flight for.

Sigh.

Blue...

You're going to know how this story ends before I finish, but I'm going to share it anyway.

My youngest daughter and I were at the mall last Sunday trying to update her summer wardrobe. She had lots of shorts handed down from her older sister that fit, but most of the t-shirts were worn or stained so we decided to go out and get her some new ones.

My daughter's favourite tween store had shelves full of brightly coloured tops. 'What colour do you want?' I asked, tossing a pretty turquoise one in her direction.

'Anything but BLUE,' she replied. 'You always buy me blue. I don't want blue.'

'Fine,' I replied. 'There's red, pink, purple, yellow, orange and tons of other colours, pick whatever you want.'

She did and we returned home happy.

Then, on Tuesday afternoon, my daughter came home and told me that Friday was Sports Day at school.

'Great,' I said. 'What do you need for Sports Day?'

'A water bottle, some suntan lotion, a hat and a T-shirt in my house colour,' she replied.

'Oh, so what's your house colour?' I asked.

'Blue,' she said with a smile.

Yes, it would be.

Sigh.

Changing a name...

If you've been following this blog for a while you may remember when I posted here about how my daughter had changed her name when she started a new school last fall.

It was no big deal, it was her choice and I went along with it.

And then, last night, I went to see her in a school production and there was her name - her real name, the name I call her, listed on the program.

And seeing it made me inexplicably happy.

Yes, my mind knows that her being called Lizzie instead of Elizabeth is no big deal.

But considering how happy seeing her full name made me, it is painfully obvious that while I may logically know this is no big deal, my heart isn't quite in agreement with my head.

Yet.

I'll keep working on it though...

 

Let the show begin...

The busiest times of the year for me are the first two weeks of September, Christmas week and the end of the school year. 

These are the months when it seems like everyone needs a piece of me and a hundred things need to be organized.

So, here I am, getting into one of my busy time periods again.

This week we have my youngest daughter's musical going on. Her school is doing Annie and my little performer is thrilled that she has four shows to perform in.

I am busy trying to get my family and my extended family organized with tickets and keep on top of everything else going on here.

My daughter however is doing fine, her costume is ready, her lines and music are in shape and she is excited and relaxed.

I'm not really worried about my daughter doing well, I know she will be terrific.

What I am worried about however is that I have forgotten to get someone a ticket or that I will forget to do something else this week, my day-timer is jammed with places to go and things to follow up on.

Did I also mention that at my busiest times of the year I also have a tendency to be a tad pessimistic?

Yeah, good times.

Sigh.

 

Playing Hooky...

Today my youngest daughter and I took a mental health day.

Yep, we called in sick and played hooky. Instead of going to work and school we took care of the things that we didn't have time to take of this weekend.

You see, it was a weekend of music festival performances, family commitments, and sports. We did a lot and we were both left with no free time at all.

So, when my youngest and I got home late last night, after helping out at a charity concert, and she showed me the homework that hadn't gotten done and we thought about the time she still needed to prepare for her piano exam this week AND I thought about how tired both she and I were, I decided we needed to take a day off and get caught up.

And we have. Her school projects are done, she wrote five thank you cards, she memorized a speech, her piano pieces got practiced and she cleaned her room. I spent the day helping her, I did laundry, and I put a very neglected house back together. I even got the dog brushed and the cat's litter box emptied.

My daughter and I also had a nice lunch together.

And yeah, we're both still tired, because it was a full day.

But the stress is gone, so tonight we'll both hopefully sleep well and the tiredness will be better by tomorrow too.

And although I'm usually a big 'nothing is more important than school' kinda Mom I don't feel guilty about keeping her home today, because what she did this weekend was important for her development too. 

And you know what? You can only do so many things and then something has to give, so one day of school didn't seem like that big a deal.

I hope.

I'll know for sure tomorrow when she brings home what she missed today at school and I open up my in-box later tonight.

So, how about you? Have you ever called in sick just to get caught up?

 

Edited to add:

Oh, and the next time I play hooky? I'm sending the kid to school so I can sleep the day away, eat junk and ignore the house. Just sayin'....

Cleaning and wiping and disinfecting. Oh, my...

I love my family. I really do, but you know what? They can be kinda gross.

Since my kids are old enough to read my blog I won't bore you, or embarrass them, with the specifics but let it just suffice to say that my home and my car often seem to be splattered in some sort of body fluid, food, outdoor substance or some other unidentifiable liquid.

I don't even know half the time what I'm wiping away and honestly? I don't want to know. It's just too gross to think about.

So, under every sink in my house and in the driver's cup holder of my car you will always find disinfecting wipes. Yep, I LOVE these things. They work well, they kill germs and basically they are one of my main quick cleaning go-tos that I use to keep my family clean and healthy. I use wipes constantly and I've often wished I had stock in Lysol because I use so many.

So, a few months ago when I was asked to join the Lysol Healthy Families Ambassador Program I decided that, for my family, this was a perfect fit.

As an Ambassador, I'm excited to share with you the link for The Lysol Mission for Health. Lysol understands health matters to us all; especially to mothers. Lysol's Mission for Health is not just about making better products to help moms protect her family, but also about contributing to the health of the communities we live in. That's why Lysol started the new moms program, healthy habits initiatives in schools, the cold & flu prevention program and disaster relief efforts. You can learn more about the programs at Lysol.ca.

I'm happy that Lysol is doing what it can to contribute to the health of my community and I'm ecstatic that I've got their wipes to try and keep the grossness (yes, that's a word) of my family under control.

How about you? Do you have any tips on keeping things clean and less gross at your house that I can use? Other than getting rid of the pets? Or the kids? 

Disclosure: I am part of the Lysol Healthy Families Ambassador Program by Mom Central. I received compensation as part of my affiliation with this group.  The opinions on this blog are my own.

Twelve is a special number....

I feel like we got back from a wonderful vacation week and stepped right into a hurricane.

We've got a busy March going on here and April looks like it's going to be even worse. Music activities, sport activities, deadlines for work and just life stuff all seem to need my time and attention right now.

But today? Today I will pause for a minute to celebrate my daughter's birthday.

You see, today my little girl is twelve.

Twelve.

She's no longer my baby and that makes me sad.

She's getting taller, she gaining more confidence and every day she's growing more beautiful.

And silly.

Yeah, she's my silly one.

She's also entering those tough pre-teen and teen years where she'll be trying to figure out who she is and what she wants from life. 

The next few years will be a wonderful, crazy and hormonal ride.

Yeah, I said the h word.

I can't wait to see how these hormonal influences are gonna change things around here. Sigh.

Happy Birthday Lizzie.

I love you very much.

Three Friday things. Okay, four.

It's March Break.

I have one child sleeping-in today and two more who are ready to start sleeping-in tomorrow. Yes, they all inherited their parent's sleep gene.

But, three more things.

One, yesterday my son wanted ice cream on the way home from school so, we stopped and got ice cream on the way home from school.

I'm telling you this because usually I would have said, no. But saying yes more to my children is part of the 'It all starts with Yes!' campaign that I'm supporting so we got ice cream. More information about this campaign is here.

Also, today is that last day for my Canadian readers to leave a comment on any of my blog posts from the last week to be entered into a draw for a P & G kit filled with alll sorts of great products and ideas on how to join our kids in exploring, discovering and living life to the fullest.

Second? We got a letter from the school yesterday updating us on how my youngest daughter is doing this term. One of the comments read, 'She regularly contributes to classroom discussions and has been practising her use of oral communication strategies.'

Um, yeah. I think this is teacherese for telling me she's a chatterbox. It's always good when your children's report cards don't have any surprises in them. 

And third? I have this.

Yes, she cute, sweet, generally well behaved and very loved. But she needs to STOP peeing in my house. Seriously. She's almost a year old and it HAS to stop. Any suggestions on how to accomplish this would be greatly appreciated.

That is all. Happy Weekend.