Posts Tagged ‘tired mama


tooth fairy

My plans for the evening include writing a letter of thanks and explanation to my daughters, pretending to be the tooth fairy.  They wrapped her a present and wrote her a letter asking nicely for two small bags of pixie dust so they can fly.  They cannot stand themselves they’re so excited thinking about how to use their new pixie dust.  I think they’ve been working out this plea for pixie dust for quite a while.  Finally, someone lost another tooth!  I’m working out how to explain why I, the tooth fairy, can’t give them pixie dust and frantically trying to think of something that they can pretend is pixie dust.  And what can I find to make a pixie dust worthy bag, here and in secret in the short time between their bedtime and mine?!?  I’m kind of longing for those recent days when the thought of the tooth fairy was terrifying.

Mama! The tooth fairy is going to be visiting tonight!



almost 13 seconds

There was a walk along the river Tuesday for our dog’s eleventh birthday. Keta decided on it and said we should let Milo stop and smell as much as he wanted. We did. We walked for just over an hour on an idyllic path next to a river making that sound that those people put on CDs to help those other people fall asleep. You know, those people who don’t have two five year olds and a full-time job teaching teenagers and aren’t able to fall asleep in four seconds before it’s even dark. But, back to that idyllic spot for a birthday walk….. Also there, a dozen different kinds of birds making their dozen different beautiful songs. The temperature was perfect and I was with my two favorite people in the world. The same people who only stopped talking long enough to make obnoxious noises. Loud ones. Both of them, at the same time. Non-stop for an hour. I couldn’t even hear my own footsteps crunching along on the gravel path and those beautiful bird songs and that peaceful river sound, all imagined. Finally, I knew I was approaching the time when I was going to go a little wide-eyed and crazy and attract more attention then we already were. A sobbing mama on the riverwalk is no good, so I decided to challenge them. Two minutes without talking or making noise at all. What could we hear if we only SHUT UP  long enough to listen?! I used different words and an almost maniacal teeth clenched smile, but they knew my meaning.  It lasted almost 13 seconds. We’re no quitters though, so we gave it a second try. We almost made it but there was a lot of shhh-ing from one of them and a lot of guttural noises and frantic gesturing at cool stuff we were too distracted to see just minutes ago from the other one. Maybe I do need one of those CDs. Not for assistance falling asleep, but to listen to during our walks along the river.

They both have been going to sleep really early this transition week, our first week back to school. One night, I think it was a bit too early. I don’t know that they could have stayed up any later, but I should have tried to make them. I heard them get up at sometime that was still really dark. They raced, screaming, to the game closet. Did they choose a quiet game like “smack the jack” or memory or “checkerds?” Nope, they chose Trouble. It’s one of those games that you press down on a dome and really loudly a metal piece flexes and throws the dice up in the air loudly bouncing off the dome and finally settling with a clatter to hoots and hollers of “It’s a six! I get to go again!” It was morning, but too early to be awake and so cheerful. I went to tell them to turn it down a bit and found that they were dressed and ready to go to school with beds made and fish fed and happy faces to see me poking my head in the room. They’re pretty great. I’m pretty glad they’re here, those silly amazing girls.



moving info

We moved!  We moved from our little town on the plains of Colorado to a slightly less little town in the foothills of Colorado!  Here’s a few things I learned.

Driving a 26 foot truck is easy. Right turns in a 26 foot truck are slightly less so. Strap stuff down, it could get bumpy. Backing a 26 foot truck is to be avoided at all costs, ALL COSTS! It’s ok in this situation to play the blond girl card. Seriously, backflips while skydiving are less scary.

1965 portable lady kenmore dishwasher 2 farmer girls 0

If you’ve never before used or even seen or even really knew such a thing existed, look online for some user tips and how-to advice on successfully washing dishes in a portable dishwasher almost older than your parents BEFORE the first watery and disastrous attempt. Also, turn off water then detach, turn off THEN detach. You’re welcome.  Given enough time that fountain that shot onto the ten foot ceiling will dry, after dripping. And dripping. Blond girl. So sad.

You have more stuff than you think, a lot more. Some of it, you will wonder why you packed it and loaded it and moved it and unloaded it and unpacked it. Then you’ll wonder what to do with it. So, you’ll take it to the basement or garage so you can wonder again sometime later.

Pack clothes still on the hangers. Seriously, you don’t want to have to untangle a hanger disaster that makes you long for a mass of knotted Christmas lights and put hangers on all that stuff after you move. And no, packing clothes neatly with hangers for it all in the box is not just as easy. Also no, throwing it all in a heap-o-laundry pretending it all needs to be washed only postpones the inevitable hanger detangling.  Not good.

Some of your stuff will be lost forever, I’m guessing. Some of it will just be missing for several days only to be found in the most convenient and ignored places. Toilet paper missing for days only to be found in the box marked “bathroom” that you’ve been tripping over to get to the bathroom should not be a surprise. Yes, that box sitting outside the bathroom since day one shoved aside once or twice but largely ignored while painting the bathroom, that one has the toilet paper.  Also, just go ahead and buy laundry detergent all three times you remember you STILL haven’t found the laundry detergent. Be thrilled when original laundry detergent is finally located in the back of the vehicle you’ve been loading and unloading with all the new stuff your new craftsman house built in 1922 (I love love love our new old house!!) needs. Why new stuff? Try not to question it. No matter the ridiculous amount of old stuff, new stuff will be needed.  With that heap-o-laundry you’ll go through the extra detergent in no time.

Shoving stuff in drawers and closets of the correct-ish room is only a temporary solution and not really unpacking.  It’s refreshing and will make you feel like you’re making tremendous progress toward being moved in, but you might run the risk of being buried alive when you attempt to open the linen closet.  Worth it?  Maybe.

Five days without a stove is totally doable. Realizing that there’s no outlet within reach of the just installed gas stove is almost a crushing blow. Matches and those stick fire starter things, I have those. Packed. Somewhere. Now they’re unpacked and I have nine of them.

If you struggle for hours cursing and kicking then finally giving up for the day or week, to open the garage door, three times, don’t put stuff in there you might need later in the week or summer or later in life.  On the bright side, having no garage access will force you to find homes for all of that random stuff you’ve been shuffling around wondering why you packed it and loaded it and moved it and unloaded it and partially unpacked a few times.

Girls with complicated backgrounds struggle, a lot. Before moving they struggle. During a move, they struggle. After the move, they struggle. I think they’re actually surprised they still have all of their things. And me. They’re surprised they still have me. No matter how many times we went over it, no matter how many times they asked, they’re surprised. Moving before meant a complete loss of everything, more of a loss than I can imagine. No wonder they had concerns. No wonder they asked about everything. ” Mama, we get to move our beds? Even our clothes, Mama? What about our books? We’ll take everything? What about Tiger and the dogs? ……..” Endlessly repeated and reinforced with every. single. item in our old home.  So, in order to make them feel involved and like permanent members of the family no matter the location, you might be brave enough to let them pick out a color for their new room knowing what that choice might be and knowing you’ll have to follow through no matter what.  And when they pick out a color you insist on calling raspberry just so you don’t have to say hot pink you have to smile hugely and congratulate them on an awesome decision and how great will your new room look after we’ve painted all four walls this gorgeous color?!?  It’s perfect!  Then you’ll look and see it’s really called Hot Lips and you buy it anyway smiling the whole time and imagining it in all it’s hot pink perfection and you’ll start to paint and they’ll walk in and ooh and ahh and gush about how beautiful it is and “Thanks Mama!! You’re working so hard Mama! Can you believe how pretty our new room looks Mama?!” and you’ve never seen anything so great as them loving their new room and their new home and still struggling but bit by tiny bit realizing this move is ok and we really are a family, forever.  You’re exhausted and have so much moving in to do still and you’re frustrated they won’t listen and pick up their stuff and then you remember they really did wonder, they really have no idea what forever means and they’ve been worried about losing their family and everything they know, again.  So, you read and cuddle and play monopoly and go on a river walk and take a deep breath and walk by that hot pink room and smile and then you put on flip flops and hold hands and walk to a restaurant and forget that avalanche of stuff waiting for you in the linen closet.



school’s out!

Today we’ve had a bottle of hot pink nail polish spilled and hastily “cleaned up.” Meaning it was partially wiped up with a towel smearing it on an even greater portion of the floor, making it dry faster. At least at this point I was told about it and that it was all cleaned up.

There was a sad incident of one sister misinterpreting the intentions of the other one who was not trying to hit with a skillet from the play kitchen but was only trying to act out a scene from Tangled.

We’ve been painting our “new house” with sidewalk chalk by standing on parts of the swing set not built for standing to better reach those pesky hard to reach spots.

We’ve been doing cannonballs into three inches of water in a kiddie pool four feet across that we cannot get our Great Dane mutt out of for any longer than it takes to get his tennis ball.

We have a high dive and a low dive for our kiddie pool, two chairs stacked and an Adirondack, respectively.

Two of us ate an entire watermelon, before noon.

We did a few errands and walked the dogs.

We had a squirt bottle fight fully clothed then switched to water guns and swimsuits. Good summer fun.

What we did not do today was sleep in. Now it’s 1:30 and I’m wondering what the rest of the day will be like. What the rest of the week and the summer look like I can guess, pretty much like today. Love!





I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been without K and F in the last year, non-work related of course.  It seems like since they happen every few months that I’d really enjoy them, these one or two hour mini vacations.  Seems like I’d remember them fondly and look forward to the next one.  Instead, I kind of don’t know what to do with myself.  Time, just for myself, for whatever I want!  What a gift!  But now what?  What did I do before?

Before, I could complete a 5 a.m. workout without disturbing anyone but Milo, and he was only disturbed enough to sneak from his bed on the floor to the warm spot I had just vacated.  Now, I’m maybe ten minutes in before sleepy, stumbling little ones wander from bed rubbing tired eyes and looking for a cuddle.  How did I eat breakfast everyday without the entertaining and funny ways of  little ones scolding their olecranon processes, elbows, for “keeps getting on the table after I’s ask you not to, you silly cranon poss” and spinning their spoons around and around saying, “concave, convex, concave, convex” and completely forgetting the idea is to get some food in the belly before we dash off to school?  Writing this reminds me to relax and just enjoy the silliness, but what did I do before?

Before, I didn’t read a lot of stuff that rhymes and I wasn’t constantly spelling things and answering why everything and I certainly didn’t sing a lot, especially about opples and banonos.  I didn’t know about a pigeon’s dream of driving a bus or about an hornery duck or a pig who insists on wearing mostly red.  I didn’t know about Chocolate Me! or Blue Moo and now I can hardly imagine a day without.  I’m always happy when Choco finally finds his mother and I feel sad for Horace connecting his spots with marker to make stripes, just trying to look more like everyone else in his family.  Before, I read lengthy books with chapters and everything.  Now, I read three books in about twelve minutes.

Before, I didn’t have to worry that I might be doing it all wrong or that even though I might be doing some of it right, that little bit that’s wrong is bigger and undoes all the rest and worse than starting all over with the healing I’ve actually maybe made things worse and how do I know and what should I maybe have done instead?  Before, throwing a tennis ball answered any question of, are you okay, am I what you need?  Ah, the easy and relaxed days of before.

Even though it wasn’t that long ago, before was another life I guess.  Aside from reading books without pictures and finishing whole workouts, I don’t really know what I did before.  Now, it’s pretty great.



good thing they’re cute

Some days are rough, really, really rough.  On those days it’s a good thing they’re cute, really, really cute.  On those days I’m reminded how great all those other days are.  There were tests before.  Tests to see if mama will still love even my most miserable me.  Now those tests seem like friendly and easy there’s-no-wrong-answer-here kinds of tests.  They seem like normal toddler tests that most (all?) kiddos use to see how much they can trust the stability, structure and consistency of the whole family set up.  I guess I’m glad that both of my kiddos feel secure enough to conduct the next round of tests, the sort of tests that kind of defy description.  They trust that I’m still going to love them and hug them and rock them and kiss them on the forehead.  I get that it’s important, essential even, for them to make sure.  Still though, on those days, it’s a good thing they’re cute.




I’m too tired to care what this post is called.  Here’s photos from today.  Bibi’s eyes can open, but never for a photo.