Family Vacation

Our weekend was fast and full of the good stuff in life: people we love, music, delicious food, good alcohol, live music, and nature.
We went to Tahoe with Joey's family, all three of his siblings and their spouses and kids. It's great to have so much family to enjoy! On Saturday night we had two babysitters come up and watch all the littles so we could go see Brad Paisley at Harvey's. The concert was outside, the fresh air as intoxicating as the beer. We  listened and swayed to the loud, rock'en music of   Easton Corbin, The Band Perry and Brad Paisley. 
My husband practically held me the whole time, which felt good. I'm glad after nine? ten? (where the hell are we?) years of marriage I still want to be held, and he'll still hold me.
The bathroom situation was entertainment in itself. I'm not sure I'd pay money to do it again (I almost fell over in the sani-hut, due partly to the uneven ground it was sitting on and partly to the Coors Light) but maybe. It was like walking away from the concert into a scene from Armageddon: crowds of desperate people needing to relieve themselves, dressed in their best, standing in  long lines, waiting and waiting in the most putrid smelling air. The men didn't even bother to close the doors to the urinals. As one would leave, swinging the door in front of him, the other three were left helpless, their manhood finishing its business right there in front of a crowd of waiting women with nothing else to look at. It made me think how quickly even our "best" gets brought down to earth: we all gotta pee and we'll pretty much do whatever it takes to relieve ourselves.
The next day we spent at the beach. It's still hard with Noah-Ethan entertains himself, but Noah, at almost three, still has to ask for a "nak" (snack) ever eight minutes and isn't quite satisfied with anything you give him. In one word, the kid is EXHAUSTING. I dream about the days he's about six and will play happily for twenty minutes by himself.  Nirvana.
At least he poos in the toilet. Every time the kid does his business I say a very happy mama prayer to the bathroom angels for bringing that on so swiftly.  As far as Noah goes, that's my one sane point: he puts his poo in the toilet. Hallelujah.
Ethan hit a major milestone by jumping into the pool of the side for the FIRST TIME IN HIS ENTIRE LIFE.
"Mom! I never knew jumping in could be so fun!" We've only been telling him for three years now.
We were thankful Ethan was all better because he was sick the previous Sunday and into the beginning of last week, but by Friday he was good to go. We were a little rattled when we got Noah up from his nap to go, truck running, and he says he doesn't feel good followed by barfing all over his bedroom carpet.
What to do? What to do?
We went. I was quarantined in the hotel room with Noah for the first night. He made it through the evening and all through the night. When I sent an enthusiastic "We're all better!!!" text to my sister in law the next morning, she informed me her three year old barf and pooed, the runny kind, all night long.
How do we ever survive children? How?
Somehow the sickness kindly left us, and our weekend, so that we could enjoy ourselves, instead of going stir crazy looking at the over-patterned carpet in the hotel room, wiping off barf on the white toilet seat every thirty minutes.
Instead, the gods smiled down on us, and we got to do Paisley and the beach.
We also rented a jet ski and Joey and U.Scott took the older boys out. I wanted a ride too-so I climbed onto the back and held on tight to my husband's life jacket straps. I needed something to take my breath away, wake me up, and I knew a good ride behind Joey on a jet ski would do it.
Of course it did. My husband doesn't hold back. But just like in life, I know I am safe holding on to him, no matter how fast he flies, how hard he pushes.We flew around like two crazies, jumping over waves and and coming down hard as the water spit up in our faces, the wind cool and refreshing to our bodies, but mostly to our souls.

Just Stuff.

It has been a long, long week. Is it really only Wednesday?
The boys are watching TV.  Pretty much whenever we are home.  I remember playing outside as a kid, but maybe I'm imagining things?
We are going over to our pastors' for dinner. I'm looking forward to the socializing, praying my boys will get grossly immersed in something and take care of themselves. It's a long shot, but a girl can dream.
I went back to kickboxing. Best decision I ever made. My body feels like mine again, all beat up and sore and worked. It feels really good. My back hurts, so I stretch my buns/hips and run massage tools all over them to increase the blood flow. Totally works, instantly.
I'm teaching a kickbox class as well, Monday afternoons. I love teaching this format. I needed a break, but it feels so good to be back.

The Good and Bad of Free Slurpees...and other thoughts on Being a Mama.

I drew a picture today, pencil on paper...something out of nothing. Maybe I'm alive after all. The thing about trying to do it all "right" is that so much of the time I feel like I am going through the motions, set on "auto" mom, waiting for something, or someone, to slap me up beside the head and say, Wake up!
Yesterday was not such a good day.  I had the boys by myself, something you'd think I'd be able to handle as their MOTHER, but for some reason (PMS? My personality? Me?) just being with them made my blood boil.
Once I had that saying in my mind, "Being with my kids makes my blood boil" I felt better. It was such a good description.
They didn't start out heating my blood, even though it was 100+ degrees. The good thing about that was it was free slurpee day at 7-11. I had never participated in this before, because, as an adult, I rarely get a slurpee, but kids take you back, let you experience all over again the joys of some perfectly sweet and refreshing mixture on a hot hot day.
So I played it up a little,  HEY GUYS!! TODAY IS 7/11 (big long explanation of July being the 7th month, day 11 yadeyada) SO WE CAN GO GET FREE SLURPEES!!
My poor children, although excited because of my tone, didn't know what to make of it because, I later learned, they had NEVER HAD A SLURPEE. Fail number one as a mother for the day.
Because I had never participated in this lovely event before I really didn't know the rules. Was there a particular size you had to get? Whattya do, just walk in, fill your cup, and walk out? Really?
 It was pretty crowded around the colorful square dispenser machines, and not wanting to look like too much of an idiot I grabbed the smallest size cups available and filled them up.
It was on our way out, right after I said, "Thank you," to the ragged cashier, that she responded, "Ma'am, those are not free slurpees."
Number one, I do not like to be called Ma'am. Especially by an old woman. Secondly, why don't they post some damn rules so we don't get arrested for shop lifting right in front of our children and everyone?
Anyways. It sort of went down hill from there. We went to Wal-mart, and Savers. I haven't done the Savers thing in forever,  and I really like it. How awesome is it to look for little treasures, and when you find one, it's like $1.99??? Plus it's recycling, and helping The Boys and Girls Club. Once you get accustomed to the smell, it's guilt free shopping at it's best!
I got the boys a whole bag of clothes. They played with the toys (OK, that's a little disgusting) and they kept asking me to buy them those bags of absolute trash little toys they put together. I held fast.
Come to think of it, even after coming home, making dinner, and cleaning up, everything was going ok. They watched a movie while I put together the new closet organizers I got (my closet looks uh-may-zing, I'll have to post), and then it was bedtime. And that's really where the good times end.
My husband and I have been talking about this for years now: I like to do things last minute. Slurpees! Wal-mart! Savers! And entire closet re-model! All after an eight hour day of work. The problem is that after all the fun is done, I'm done. I have about two  drops of emotional energy left, and putting a six and two year old to bed takes more like 7 hundred million gallons.
We started the bedtime hoopla at eight and they weren't done talking and asking questions and peeing and telling me they needed a bowl because they were going to throw up (lie) until about ten-ish.
You know, right about the time I wanted to shoot myself.
Instead I cried and I told God I hated being a mother.
I think part of my grief is that I thought I'd be good at this shit!
I thought I'd be all nurturing and soft and love singing my kids to sleep. Instead, Ethan tells me, "Mom, I'll read Noah this long book, because I know you are too tired. You can read the short one." (And by short one, we're talking the toddler one word on each of the five pages of the book, book).
Mercy.
I loved getting read to as a kid. My dad would read and read and read. And I always said I was going to do that too...
I think what is some of the only redeeming grace I see right now is how quickly my kids come back to me. How even after I come completely unglued, just a few minutes later they are right at my feet again with a new something they must tell me,  or Noah reaching his hands up and asking, Hold me.
At that point, it's wrong for me to dwell. As much as I can, I throw it behind me, listen with both ears open to my chatty six year old, or reach under those doughy arms of my two year old and bring him close to my face, breathing in his fleeting littleness.

Hey I Deleted Some Links

FYI I went through and deleted some of my links to other blogs because they either didn't work or hadn't written in like a year. If you decided to start up again, let me know!!

Catch Up.

Well, it's been awhile!
We went on the most amazing vacation, where I re-learned to play, after a whole winter in hibernation-but more on that maybe later. It started out as all vacations do, packing all of our daily little necessities-the vitamins, the wine opener, the shoes, the underwear (oh wait! That's right! I forgot mine, although I packed a good weeks worth of extras for Noah since he recently decided to use the toilet. Too bad I couldn't make them fit). So yeah, besides it being an absolutely amazing vacation, I was underwear-less the entire time! Talk about refreshing.
Thinking back, I realize Joey and I didn't fight too much, which is pretty good, considering vacations can be breeding grounds for long, overdue arguments. I think the trick is we've learned how to fight, and we've learned how to fight good. In the moment. The way fights are supposed to happen.
Take this morning for example. I ordered a stuffed animal hammock for the boys bedroom off Amazon for $7. The thing is the shipping was like $10.76. I thought it was a little ridiculous, like I was really getting you-know-what-ed, but at the moment I didn't care. I could barely see the print, ordering it on my phone, and I had already checked Wal-mart and they didn't have it. Besides, it was worth $18 bucks to me. When Joey saw what I had done he let me know that I could have picked normal 5 day shipping for free, instead of the 2 day rape you shipping. I told him at this point that I was SICK of being micromanaged and that I was SICK of being married. I can't remember really what exactly happened at this point, but that's the point. He didn't do anything.
Later, when I told him I was sorry for saying I was sick of being married, he just said, "I still love you" and I thought, damn, I don't deserve you. I don't deserve anything close to you.
 So that was that.
 Vacation was good to me. Joey and I both read Born to Run, a book that inspires your heart and gets you off you butt. We ran and hiked deep into the mountains, caught slimy, crazy-eyed fish, swam across lakes. I can still feel the cold water engulfing my body, giving me goosebumps, awakening my spirit. I had almost forgot how to play, but once I started I didn't want to stop. Give me a ball, a bat, a bike, a lake, an innertube, just let me play! Every night we'd crash, totally exhausted in the most wonderful way, brown from the sun and smelling like dried sweat. I think in the first five days I only took two showers. This, from a girl who showers at least once if not twice a day normally. It felt great to stop taking so much care of myself and just enjoy living- minimal make up (was THAT ever hard to get used to. I felt like all I needed in the morning was a missing front tooth and I'd look like I'd been on bath salts for years) no curling iron, no eyeliner. Until the end when I couldn't stand it anymore, and then I put some on.
The boys...watching them play, being with them everyday in the water, on the bikes, eating ice cream...there is nothing better. Period.
They are away this week with my mom, visiting my sister and her family in southern CA (jealous!). And it's been really nice to be away from them too...I am able to write. I consolidated the boys' bedroom into one (shhh! it's a secret!) so I can have an office and workout room, and Joey and I have gone out to eat, to the movies, and had an incredible morning this morning soaking in warm sun on the patio, reading, drinking coffee, uninterrupted.
It's the fourth, and I am enjoying the quiet crash of the leaves as they move in the wind, sending in a light breeze over my toes. It feels really good to write again.