chugga chugga

Today is number 4's birthday. He is two. He is head-over-heels in love with trains. You can hear them in the distance from his bedroom and he never misses one.
"Nnn-nnnn-nrya" he says when he hears the sound of the horn from far away.
"Yes. Choo-Choo train," I reply, vigilantly listening to his garbledy-gook.
After my mom and I took him to his two-year check up at the pediatrician this morning (no , he didn't have shots on his birthday!), we went downtown and hunted trains. King said when he thought there was a 10 o'clock train. So, off we went in search of it. No luck. We drove down a little further and saw a Norfolk-Southern office. I pulled into the gate and asked the young man if there was a train that would be coming by soon. Just as I asked, I heard the sound of a train whistle. (I could also hear the sound of an excited gasp from the back seat.) He showed me where to park to best see it. We got out of the car just in time to wave to the engineer , who tooted the whistle especially for my newly two-year old boy.
Doot-doo-de-doot-doot.......Doot-Doot!
Number 4 waved and the engineers both waved. I wondered if they were crazy over trains when they were his age. His little body was frozen, barely breathing as he watched that enormous engine rumble by. And another. Then, so many that we couldn't count them all, boxcars filled with gravel rolled past. Finally, as the last one passed by, he took a big breath and smiled.
When the older kids got home from school, and King got home from work, and "Poppy" came over bearing gifts, we had cake and ice cream. The cake had a little plastic train on top. And lots of candles for him to blow out. (We've been practicing!)
As I type this, he is safe and sound in his bed totally zonked after a jam-packed, way too much fun day. I wonder if he is dreaming about today...his very HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

like sands through the hourglass

....so are the days of our lives. And so go the cells of my brain.

Today I got dressed, then got #4 and 5 ready and out the door to the pediatrician's office. I was met with very little traffic, found the perfect parking spot, and got into the waiting room with ten minutes to spare. I did think it was odd that there were no other patients waiting, but then, it was 8:50 and their office opens at 9:00, so I mentally rationalized it.
When the receptionist came to the check-in window, she asked which doctor I was there to see. When I told her, she said, "She's not in this office today". (They have two office locations.)
"Oh, no, don't tell me I came to the wrong office."
"Well, let me just check. What is your son's name?" (looks something up on her computer) "Oh, yes, here it is. His appointment is Wednesday."

When I got home, I checked my calendar. Hrm, I had it written wrong. We'll just call this the "dry run". And like a cat who had an unplanned fall from the couch after a really good stretch, I will retreat to a corner of the room and lick my paws. And I'll try not to feel so stupid. Or old.

y'see, stuff like this doesn't help

Yesterday I took #4 to meet his Mother's Morning Out teachers and let him play in his new classroom at Open House. There were a lot of 2-ish year olds running around, testing out the new toys, fighting over the cars, (there are a lot of boys which will be in his class) putting odd stuff into the little washing machine and dryer (what do boys know about washers or dryers?) and scribbling with crayons on color sheets that the teachers had out. Fun, right? Yes. It was for him. For me it was a different experience. I picked up on the slightest difference between the
OTHER MOTHERS ........................AND MYSELF.

just call me puddleglum

In about month, I turn 40. My body is falling apart.
If the day just comes and goes with no fanfare, I think I would like it better.
I don't want anyone to call me that day. I don't think I will want to answer the door either.
I don't want to hear anyone say "Happy Birthday" because it won't be.
There is a slight possibility that my eyes will be swollen from crying.
I loved 30.
Everyone I know who turned 40 in the past few years makes it look so easy.
Everyone I know who is older than that even makes it look easy.
Wonder if they held up in their house like a hermit on their 40th?
Then emerged the next day and bravely got on with life.
I don't think I will be so gallant.
As childish and infantile as it sounds, I may have to "have a spell".
To quote (as best I remember) my cousin who was once 3 (or thereabouts) and very tired one day:
I don't want it. Don't look at it. Don't think about it for me. Don't put my name with it.

we should all be so creative

Check out this clever solution to when the kids try to "pull one over on Mom".
I have giggled all morning reading from her blogspot.

a series of unfortunate events

While on the phone with hubby listening to why he will be late tonight, here's what happened:

• I had to tell #1 and #2 for the millionth time to stop playing and get busy on their homework
• #4 descended the stairs after having been up there alone for 20 minutes or so with the toilet brush in one hand and a wad of something unknown in his mouth.
• Oh great, it's a wad of toilet paper! (and to think I figured he was just up there creating a nuclear diaper)

At this point, I hang up the phone and #1 and #2 run upstairs to assess the damage. Number 1 does it because she is wanting to minimize the number of decibles with which I will scream at finding an enormous mess. Number 2's reason for going up there is to be witness to a delightful mess created in the toilet and surrounding areas. And to wallow in the hilarity of the moment, wishing it had've been him who had all that fun and mirth. He is banking on it being something to tell his friends on the playground.

• #2 descends the stairs in a hurry and takes back up with him a garbage bag.
• I slowly go up to find #1 has done all that she can do by standing at such a great length away from the toilet, which is sitting in a lake of toilet water.
• I "take over" which involves a lot of antibacterial spray and paper towels and being on my hands and knees for about 20 minutes (in which #4 is downstairs making a new mess and #1's and 2 are again avoiding homework) From upstairs I yell "dadgummit, stop playing and do your homework!"
• I make my way backward down the stairs so that I can more easily clean up the wet toilet paper which is littering the floor (think Hansel and Gretel leaving a trail so that they could find their way back).
• Then, in a rush to get dinner (spaghetti) ready so that#1 can eat before dance lessons, I shake the parmesian cheese to break up the clump inside. I discover that the last person to use it left the top open (need I say more?).
• This is about the time I hear #5 crying because #4 is being way too loud.

I'm thinking Lemony Snicket must be in a dark corner taking notes or something.

whether i wanted to or not

The VCR we have had since before #1 was first born entered the death process earlier this year. I went through the five stages of grief you've always heard about.

Denial came first: "THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING! Honey, where is the tape head cleaner? Did one of you kids mess with this thing?"

Next, came anger: "WHY ME?!?! How come this stupid machine won't work right?"

Bargaining: "Oh, pleeeeze work. Please, oh please, oh please? Come on. Ugh. Please? Cherry on top?"

Depression: *sigh* "Great. Just great. The kids will never be able to watch Winnie the Pooh or Toy Story again. We've got a whole cedar trunk filled to the brim with VHS tapes that will just sit there and rot, I guess. Hmmph. They don't even make plain VCRs anymore. We don't need a VCR/DVD combo, we've already got a DVD." *sigh*

Acceptance: "OK, I guess when I think about it, you have served well. You have gotten us through countless hours of rented movies, our Disney movies, Veggie Tales, and our own precious home movies. For over a decade you have been steady as she goes. Only needing your silly little heads cleaned every so often. I guess I will let you go, my sweet little VCR."

Yep, the 20 some odd minutes I spent this morning trying in vain to get Winnie the Pooh to play, I finally hit the last phase and have accepted it. Shortly thereafter, I packed up #4 and 5 and headed to Best Buy.

And actually, there is a bright side: This new VCR/DVD combination thing will record our movies onto a blank DVD. That means that all those movies will now take up much less space! Hey, this just might be a good thing after all.