Real Life

Do you ever wonder about the real lives of your blogger friends?

Not the charming stories they tell you or the quippy remarks they make about small incidents in their lives.

No, I mean their REAL lives.

Well, if you have ever wondered, let me give you a glimpse at the less than glimmering moments of my last two real days.

REAL LIFE FRIDAY:

Wake up and prepare to host a second toddler all day. 8-5.

Don't bother with a shower or even real clothes. Andy's sweats and the t-shirt I wore to bed are good enough.

Welcome baby #2 and reassure mom that I adore her child and am delighted to have him again.

Hear Andy open the door. Also hear rustling of plastic bag... did he bring me something? Yes he did! An iced chai and a cinnamon roll! Yay! I love this man!

Uneventful day. Well, in terms of grown up events. Baby #2 has the runs, there is the usual hitting, crying, saying "NO!" a million times. The major accomplishment of the day was Jack eating a real lunch (not just graham crackers or fishy crackers and a banana) including ALL of his vegetables. I was thrilled about that (there is no sarcasm in that statement, it I really was so excited that I squealed).

Both babies take a mid-afternoon nap and I decide to join them.

Wake up at 4:50, ten minutes before mum is supposed to arrive. Check my phone. Three new texts!

Mum says traffic is horrible and she missed the first bus. She will be at least 45 minutes late.

Bummer. That means I won't be able to go cheer Andy on at softball tonight.

Andy is home and both babes wake. Andy rummages around the fridge and asks if the steak in there is for dinner tonight.

I answer in the affirmative. A few moments later I realize that he is asking me if I will make dinner NOW instead of after his games. Ug. I hate telling him no and if he is hungry I feel like I'm not doing my job well, but I have two babies who just woke up and need attention and only 30 minutes before he has to leave.

I hand Andy a baby and scurry into the kitchen to see what I can make happen in 28 minutes and counting.

Hair flying everywhere. Getting sweaty. How does Rachel Ray do it?

Both babies in the kitchen and unhappy. What is Andy doing? He was supposed to entertain the kids while I cook.

Andy emerges from the bedroom in his softball uniform. I ask him to change baby #2's diaper. Don't hear a response and prepare to do it myself. I won't send my charge home with soiled pants!

Andy intercepts the diaper and sets to work. I hear him open it up and groan. Expecting a full one I peek around the corner. I see nothing. Andy calls me closer... "Honey! Look at this! It is gross!" I've seen a million gross diapers. I'm sure it is nothing. I walk over. And laugh. It is one little dot... really no bigger than my pinky nail... and he asks me to wipe it! Seriously?

Seriously.

I rush back into the kitchen and try and pull the meal together. I know Andy won't have time to eat it, but I offer to send it in a tupperware so he can eat it on the road (his friend was driving). As I'm pulling things off burners and mashing the potatoes and bouncing Jack on one hip Andy comes in to say he has to go. He's going to leave without his food?!

Fighting.

Andy leaves four minutes later with food in hand. Most of it. He refused the potatoes saying he didn't want to eat them in the car. I wish I had known that before I started making them. Both of us are still steaming.

Baby #2 gets picked up.

Send Andy text apology and explain why I got so worked up. Receive apology back. All is right with the world.

Put Jack to bed.

Tidy up.

Collapse on the couch.

Andy comes home.

More apologies.

Take a shower.

Go to bed.

REAL LIFE SATURDAY:

Usual wake up routine.

Highlight of the morning is story time with Jack. We curl up on the couch. He brings me a book, I read it, and when we finish he crawls off my lap, finds the next book of interest, brings it to me and crawls back in my lap. Ah!

Receive text message from Andy asking if it is okay if he watches the fights at a friends house.

Start to cry.

I hate telling Andy no! He works so hard, I want him to have a chance to play. But I work so hard too. When do I get to play?

Consider sending back a text message that explains that I don't feel like I can handle another (three for the week) night of putting Jack to bed by myself and spending the evening in isolation. Instead stick with the simplest answer, "I would rather you didn't"

Text tumbleweeds roll.

Know that I have not sent the answer he was hoping for. The night is going to be lame at home anyway if he wishes he were at the fights. Try to come up with a plan that will give me some relief and still let him go.

Send a second text message offering to send him off the the fights with well wishes in exchange for and extra $X0 (dollar amounts have asked to remain unidentified) and a few hours of solo shopping time BEFORE the fights.

Andy replies: "DEAL!"

Shoot! I should have asked for more money!

Exchange several phone calls with Lizzie, trying to coordinate an outing for the morning.

Hurriedly throw on some make up and tame my hair, not with a shower, but with bobby pins. Dress Jack and set off with Lizzie and Jack for a few late-summer yard sales.

Acquire four brightly colored and uniquely shaped vases for a quarter each.

Return home from sales and hang out with Lizzie while Dane and Jack play and Jason grocery shops.

Take Jack upstairs and put him down for a nap.

Crawl into bed and pick up the Chronicles of Narnia. I wonder how many times I have read these stories.

Hear Andy come home. Pop out of bed, brush my teeth, grab my cash and all but run out the door.

Grocery shopping is last on my list before going back home, so I choose two stores that always have something and are near my desired grocery location.

Find a pair of earrings I love... but nothing else. Not even anything worth trying on. The line is ridiculous and not worth standing in for a pair of earrings.

Try second store. Nothing. How disappointing.

Consider crying but don't. Not worth it.

Less than an hour and I've exhausted my options for shopping (in this location). But I'm right next door to the grocery store so I give up my dream of a carefree afternoon and get back to mommy work.

Wander the aisles. Forget things. Wander back down the aisles.

Grab the juice we like and watch helplessly as two extra jugs come with the one I grabbed. One is safe and the other is spilling all over the floor and is splashed all over my leg.

Look around for an employee to notify, but don't see anyone. So I walk away. Well, it probably looked like I walked away, but I was really going to look for someone to alert at the end of this aisle.

Is everyone staring at me?

Am I leaving sticky, dirty footprints that will lead them straight to me, the juice spilling culprit?

I turn around and look back at the scene. An employee has arrived. I imagine him coming up to the mess and accosting the nearest shopper, "Did you see what happened?!" All the fingers point to me as I try to inconspicuously move on. But I feel his eyes staring. He knows it was me.

Continue shopping.

Also knock a box of pancake mix off the shelf and have a discussion about nectarines with a stranger.

Spot the juice-incident employee at the end of this aisle and try to avoid eye contact.

Pause at the magazine rack. Thumb through the hair cut magazines and see the next perfect style. But refuse to pay $10 for a magazine.

Pay for groceries and load them in the car.

Drive home.

Discover an empty house. Andy and Jack must be down with Dane and Jason.

Lug groceries up stairs.

Put away refrigerated items and leave the rest until tomorrow.

Go down to visit everyone.

Send Andy out for dinner.

Come back upstairs when dinner arrives.

Realize I didn't find ALL of the refrigerated items when I first brought the groceries in. Stick them in the fridge and hope they don't go bad or make us sick.

Eat dinner.

Yum.

Bid farewell to Andy with an unintentionally snappy remark and apologize again. I've been having to do that a lot lately.

Jack helps me unload the dishwasher. Which is mommy speak for making the job take twice as long and creating a second mess that is twice as big.

Text a few friends in hopes that they randomly have a free evening. Receive all "no" answers, but well wishes. Feel very lame.

Play with Jack.

Bath time for baby.

Stories, brush teeth, sing, pray. Put him in his crib.

Sigh.

Survey all the chores that need to be done and decide they can all wait. Possibly forever.

The two pieces of chocolate in the freezer and HGTV are calling my name.

Good Morning Monday

I love my living room.  

For one, it is the room I spend the most time in (or at least tied with the kitchen).  It is where Jack and I play catch and read our books.  It is where Andy and I cuddle into the couch to watch CSI or Biggest Loser.  It is where I fold laundry or ignore the laundry with my latest book selection.

It is also walled with three giant windows that face east.  I have come out of my bedroom the last week and been greeted by early sun.  The days are getting longer and sky clearer.  As I open the blinds each morning, Jack smiles and then turns his head to avoid the glare, then I sing our morning song:

Way up in the sky

The little birds fly

While down in their nest

The baby birds rest

The bright sun comes out

The dew falls away

Good morning!

Good morning! 

The little birds say

Usually, after our wake up routine Jack is eager to get on the floor and check on all of his toys.  He crawls from one corner of the room to the other, playing with each of his favorites.  While he checks on everything I make some chai, check my e-mail and do whatever else I need to do to get the ol' gal moving.

The plan this morning was to feed ourselves and then while my sweet babe explored I would put on my gym clothes and whisk us both to the gym for an energizing work out (play time). 

However, as is often the case, Jack is unpredictable.  All of my plans have to be flexible.  This morning Jack has snot pouring out of his nose, a feeble little cough and a creeping temperature.  Poor baby.  I'm sure he would be fine playing at the gym, but i don't really want to be that mommy who brings her sick kid and infects all the other kids.  At least not today.

So instead of making the trek, we're cuddling and playing quite games.  Jack gets a quick burst of energy and plays with abandon, and then crawls back to me to sit quietly on my lap.  I am sorry that he doesn't feel well, but boy to I love the way he melts into me!

I'm imaging a day of more, but shorter naps, lots of story reading and most likely no shower.  My mind is racing, thinking of all the things that I should, could and want to do: clean out the fridge, explore my dreams, catch up on e-mails, plan March's menu, research planting a vegetable garden, fold the laundry, clean my room, vacuum and sweep... Then there are the things that I had planned to do, and now need to move to a later day: grocery shopping, taking Andy's clothes to the dry cleaner, the gym...

I want to feel productive.  I want to have something to show for the end of this day.  But truthfully, very little will probably actually get done.  Andy will come home and the laundry will still be on the couch.  I will still be in my robe and dinner will not be finished.  

I'm okay with it.  Luckily for me, Andy is okay with it too. 

My novel and glass of water are positioned right next to the couch, for those moments when Jack dozes asleep in my arms and I choose to just hold him rather than put him in his crib.  

The dishes are done because last night I made sure that when I woke up at least one room in my house would be clean, so at least that is something.

Regardless of how many checks I get to put on my list, today is still going to be a great day.  Never again will Jack be one day away from being 11 months old.  Never again will it be February 23, 2009.  Today is special.  It holds great promise.  

I am going to enjoy it.  Living this day, with passion, energy and love.  

This is the day the Lord has made.  I will rejoice and be glad in it. 

The Importance of Ribbon

Today my nails are painted a bright, Barbie pink.  I've been snowed in for what feels like ages  and my solution was to paint my nails. It only distracted me from the trapped feeling for about 15 minutes, but, hey, that's something.

You may be wondering, "Emily.  Don't you know it is Christmas?  Pink is not a very festive color.  Why not red?"

Well, the answer is that I just felt like pink.  Okay?  

If it makes you feel any better, the presents that I've wrapped are VERY traditional this year.  Red and green and that is it.  

Last year they were a lovely brown and gold and turquoise.  Sigh.  BEAUTIFUL!  And very elegant.

But this year, the classics called to me.  

I was feeling so smug about getting a jump on Christmas earlier in the month, but all of a sudden, the 25th is just two days away and I still have a pile of presents to wrap.  Albeit, most of them I am wrapping for other people, as in, I offered to wrap their gifts to loved ones, but still, the fact remains that I have wrapping yet to do.

But I'm thwarted.  I've encountered a problem.  

I have no ribbon left. 

Ribbon is essential!  

None of those plastic bows for me!  

Wired lined ribbon preferably. 

You are probably thinking, "Well Emily-of-pink-nails-even-though-they-should-be-red, why don't you just go get some more ribbon?"

The answer to that is not so simple.  

First, there is the issue of the snow.  

Who really wants to traipse around with a baby when it is frigid and wet and a little bit scary? Call me a wimp if you must, but all that festive frosting on the road is a little intimidating. Our little side street is still exactly the same color as the sidewalks, yards and roofs.  WHITE.

Second, there is the issue of... well... what to call it? Practicality?

Is it really necessary for me to spent $10+ on ribbon, just so I can show off my gift gilding skills? Like most, I went just a teeny-tiny over what I intended to spend on presents.  I just like giving people what they want.  

As the house-wife that I now am, I am very conscious that if Andy's job is to make money, my job is not to spend it, but to save it.  I tend to be a little self-indulgent (hard to believe, I know, but true).  That is a habit I am very much trying to break. So, is the purchase of ribbon just to satisfy my personal pride in presenting beautiful packages?  Or is it a legitimate purchase to help express my love for the recipients of gifts?

$10 could be put to lots of uses:

a new pair of pants for Jack

dinner at Gorditos (yummmmm)

half a package of diapers

a coffee treat for me and a friend to facilitate a much needed connection

admission to the Children's Museum

a box of crackers from Costco to stock Andy's lunch for a month

See.  Not so simple.

This quandary needs further reflection.  I think I'll feed Jack, take a shower, and see where the day takes me.  I have a feeling it will take me to Target and to the ribbon isle, but we shall see.  We shall see.

Accomplishment

For the record (and for Jack's grandmas who read this blog) this week has been a momentous one for Jack.

Not only has his slither-scoot-army crawl blossomed into a full fledged, if not somewhat awkward, hands-and-knees crawl, but he has a TOOTH!

I was picking him up from the Y's Childwatch and the sweet lady who was caring for him said, "And I see that he's getting a little tooth."  I played it cool, "Oh yeah!  He's growing so much!" But in my head I was thinking, "A Tooth!!!  How did you see it before me?!"  I've been faked out so many times by Jack's "teeth" that I almost didn't believe her.  But sure enough, when I stick my finger in his mouth, I feel a tooth! Wow, this is a big week for the Aichele baby!

I wish my accomplishments racked up as quickly!  My mind is pretty ambitious about what I want to do "some day" but it seems like it is going to be an awfully long wait for that day to arrive.  

For example, I would really love to be a life coach, which will require some more schooling (read, heavy investment of time and money) but as of right now, it is ambiguous if/when that will ever happen.  I love the idea of being a momprenuer (a new buzzword of the business world by the way) but am thwarted again by all the hurdles, perceived and actual, that impede that goal.  

I would like to participate in a triathlon, have rockin' hair, go on What Not To Wear...

Okay, total side note... 

Tomorrow is the day I am going to meet Clinton!

What am I going to wear?!  

How am I going to get past the guards that will try

and keep me from entering 

because I don't fit in the 14W-24W sizes?  

Will therebe guards?  

I hope so, that would be so exciting... 

Anyhow, wouldn't  you know it, just the day before 

the big rendezvous, my skin is misbehaving!  

Bad skin!  

Months and months of a radiant, blemish-free complexion

 and suddenly I'm spotted!

Oh well, life goes on.  

I'll console myself with dreams of 

what would happen if I were to win 

the drawing for a $500 shopping spree... 

*daydreamy smile*

And now back to the real stuff...

 

... invest in marriages, have the house that all the kids want to hang out at, travel the world, invest in my community, learn web design, plant a garden, live mindfully, challenge people to live more joyful lives, sell a painting... my list is long...

Many of these things feel like they will be on hold for a while.  Some of them I've made excuses that keep me from starting.  I wonder why I do that. Whatever the reason, I don't like that I do it. The paralyzed life is one that I do NOT want to live. 

So this week I have been making strides toward accomplishing items on my list.  I spent yesterday morning at MOPS, taking the first steps to meet other moms.  I made a trip to the craft store and bought supplies to make Christmas presents.  I've cleaned my house each night before I go to bed so I can wake up with a fresh start, I even went to Zumba at the gym to practiced groovin'.

I am satisfied with what I've done.  

My greatest accomplishment today?  Getting a seven month old and a four month old to take naps simultaneously (without one peep!) and during that time, taking a shower, doing the dishes and posting a blog.  It may not be the finish line at a triathlon, but it is surely something worth celebrating!

  

Permission

At 11:00 this morning I was pretty sure that I was a domestic wonder woman.  I had already been to the gym, done a load of dishes, baked whole wheat pumpkin muffins (which I have yet to taste) and made my own pumpkin spice latte to save myself $3.40. Mentally I was making plans to walk Jack to the store to pick up some fresh, crusty bread for the gourmet dinner I plan on making this evening, clean Jack's room (a project that has been on my list for... um.. about three months) and tackle the laundry.   

A beautiful autumn day can inspire like that.

However, it is now after 3:00 pm and I'm tired folks. My sink is already full of the next load of dishes which has squelched my cleaning motivation and Jack is uncommonly cranky and needy which makes it very difficult to settle into a major project. 

Sigh.  

So I've changed my plans.  

I'm just going to go with the flow.  

No one has asked me to be a domestic diva.  That is all my own ambition (and perhaps not a holy one).  

I have a sweet boy who I think would really enjoy a walk to the park and a ride on the swing.  I have a loving husband who will be home soon and will rave over whatever meal I put in front of him.  I have a house that is warm and will survive yet another day of disorder. 

So why stress?  I made muffins right? I say that is a pretty great accomplishment for the day.  

So if you are having one of those days too, where your "I'll hopefully get this done today" list is woefully un-checked, I hereby give you permission to set it aside.  Order is good.  Accomplishment is good.  But friends, let's be okay with just having fun once in a while.  

So, be free!  Frolic and delight in the simple pleasures of today.  The lists can wait until tomorrow.  

More To Come

The inevitable happened last night.  

I got Jack ready for bed a little early (due to a poop-covered baby incident that I won't go into detail about).  Usually, if he's had his bath and bottle and just isn't tired enough for bed I leave him in the middle of the floor and let him roll around while I make dinner or clean up or roll around with him.  

Last night, we did the whole routine and I picked up all the toys, put them in their basket and then let Jack tire himself out by rolling his stud-baby self wherever his fancy took him.  It just so happened that, his fancy lead him directly to the newly stashed basket of toys.  Can you imagine the short work he made of my cleared living room floor?  I don't know if you really can.  That baby is FAST! 

After a moment of of rubbing my face with my hands, sighing and telling myself that it really is worth it to pick up the toys, even if I have only mere minute to enjoy a tidy house, I smiled at my baby and remembered how thankful I am for a healthy boy that smiles and coos and is learning all the new things that a baby should be learning.  

Go Jack!

But... I used up all my energy re-picking up the toys and no longer have the creative wherewithal to regale you with tales of my pumpkin-day with Ellery.  

Never fear, I'll get to it.  

But for now I have 45 minutes while Jack naps to eat my oatmeal with raisins, take a shower and have a moment of spiritual reflection.  So I'm off... but here is a preview:

Oh wait, that is just Jack formulating his plan to upend the toy box last night...

Here's the preview:

My Hero

The last few days have been a little exhausting.  You know the kind where your to do list extends way beyond your mortal powers to complete... yeah, a few of those days in a row and I was feeling pretty wiped out.

But then, I looked at my list and thought, "What is the worst that can happen if I don't get everything done?"  Well, the very worst is that people might think I'm a jerk because I didn't call them back, but I'm pretty bad at returning phone calls anyway and I think people still like me, so I've already crossed that bridge.  

All the impending doom I imagine as a result of my empty check boxes is just that, imagination. (The universe will not implode because I didn't clean out our pantry or sweep the kitchen floor, nor will my family go hungry because I did not organize my shopping list by aisle)  This is a lesson Andy is teaching me.  His words are "chill out."  Not always my favorite thing to hear, but when I think it and do it before he has to tell me, I feel pretty smug.  

You know what else eased the weariness of an uncompleted list?  It has to do with Andy again.  He was out tonight getting some work done on his tattoo (don't be jealous ladies,  my husband is such a good, bad boy!) and I asked him if he could pick up dinner.  When he was finished he called me to find out what I wanted.  Our usual "will you pick up dinner" conversation goes a little something like this:

ME: Can you pick up dinner?

ANDY: Sure honey.  What do you want?

ME: Oh, whatever.

ANDY:  Like what?

ME: *frustrated that he can't read my mind* I don't know honey.  I'm tired.  Just get something.

ANDY: *frustrated that he can't read my mind AND that I don't know what I want* makes a suggestion to which I say yeah, fine.  Or, alternate ending, I say in a huffy voice, "Nevermind, just get yourself something, I'm not that hungry."

But tonight, Andy called and shyly proposed that he pick up my guilty pleasure (which I am afraid to confess to all of blogdom... so I don't think that I will.  Just know that it is greasy and probably causes cancer and comes from a drive thru.)  which is EXACTLY what I wanted!  What a guy, how did he know?  That small proposal set us off giggling and flirting like when we were dating.  I loved every second of it!

And now, my list is forgotten (well, at least set aside momentarily), my tummy is full and tomorrow looks bright.  

Way to go Andy, you saved the day again!