You are my sweet biscuit of a human. As you tell me at bedtime every night when you kiss your hand and slap it on my forehead, "I love you forever andeverandeverandeverandeverandeverandever!" And forever, I love you too. Happy 11th to my Beans.
Monday, June 1, 2020
Happy 11th to my Casey!
You are my sweet biscuit of a human. As you tell me at bedtime every night when you kiss your hand and slap it on my forehead, "I love you forever andeverandeverandeverandeverandeverandever!" And forever, I love you too. Happy 11th to my Beans.
Friday, March 1, 2019
Abby
I don't want to write this. Your presence is huge and lingering and I can still feel it. If I write this, it might be driven home a little further that you're gone. I saw your water bowl outside this morning, still full two days later, covered in a layer of ice. I said, "Oh no, Abby's water is..." I trailed off, because I didn't need to finish the thought. I cut the crusts off Mackenzie's sandwich as I was packing her lunch, and I picked them up to carry them to you, knowing you're always waiting for them. I told the kids to stop leaving their snacks in places where you could reach them. I listened for your "twinkle toes" on the hardwood floors in the middle of the night, so I would know it was time to drag myself out of bed for your potty break. I cleaned my car yesterday, and I hesitated to pack away your extra leashes and your collar with your I.D, because I always keep extras for our camping trips.
We got the call about your ashes yesterday. "Abby is ready to come home," he said.
You were an old girl. I know that. I know you weren't living your best life anymore. I know you were in pain. I know it was time. But you were still you, full of love and happiness and the personality of a puppy. You wanted to get up and run, to chase that ball and catch that squirrel and keep up with your kids. I want to believe that you're doing all those things now. That maybe you're eating an entire pizza for once, not just the crusts. That wherever you are, you're with someone who loves you as much as we do.
And I hope you know how very loved you are and how much we miss you. You took a piece of each of us when you left. You were such a good girl, the best girl. Thank you for thirteen years of wags, kisses, unconditional love and unwavering devotion. I'll never forget how special you are and how much you meant to me. I hope I'll see you again someday.
We got the call about your ashes yesterday. "Abby is ready to come home," he said.
You were an old girl. I know that. I know you weren't living your best life anymore. I know you were in pain. I know it was time. But you were still you, full of love and happiness and the personality of a puppy. You wanted to get up and run, to chase that ball and catch that squirrel and keep up with your kids. I want to believe that you're doing all those things now. That maybe you're eating an entire pizza for once, not just the crusts. That wherever you are, you're with someone who loves you as much as we do.
And I hope you know how very loved you are and how much we miss you. You took a piece of each of us when you left. You were such a good girl, the best girl. Thank you for thirteen years of wags, kisses, unconditional love and unwavering devotion. I'll never forget how special you are and how much you meant to me. I hope I'll see you again someday.
Friday, June 9, 2017
Bedtime Stories
I have a bedtime story for you. I mean, a story about bedtime. A story that unfolds as picturesque as a fairy
tale, and finishes off with a fat ass glass of wine.
It’s Friday night. We’re
watching a movie. Mackenzie snuggles up
next to me on the couch. It’s been a
long week. She’s cute, snuggly, and
sleepy. She actually asks the question, “Mom? When can I go to bed?” My first thought is, “FUCK YAH!! Easy bedtime tonight!” We finish with the bedtime basics, head upstairs,
and cozy up her bed. She asks for a
book. I read one. Then she asks if she can read me a book. She does.
We talk about a few random things, and then it’s time for songs.
Mack: Just two songs. ABCs and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
We sing those.
Mack: Just two more. Six Little Ducks and You Are My Sunshine.
We sing again.
Mack: Just two more. I’m a Little Teapot, and then maybe something
you can make up for my unicorn.
(I’m totally clever, so my song was in the same tune as I’m
a Little Teapot. “I’m a huge unicorn in
your bed, this is my foot and this is my head.”)
Mack: One more song. Daddy’s Taking Us to the Zoo Tomorrow. And wait… can we sing Shake Your Sillies Out
after that?
And so… WE SING AGAIN.
Next up is Jingle Bells.
In June. Three times. We had to find the actual jingle bells first,
though, because props.
But wait! We can’t
leave out We Wish You a Merry Christmas, because we already have the
bells! That’s basic logic.
In the middle of all of this, Casey shows up and flops in
Mackenzie’s bed to sing with us. He isn’t
really into the singing, though. His
motives remain unclear.
In the end, Thank You Lord for Making Me was the final
straw. She learned it in preschool and
it involves clapping our hands and stomping our feet like we’re in the middle
of a freaking hoedown. I caught a
glimpse of myself in her mirror and it was at that moment that I knew I had
been played. But it only took about an hour
after the shenanigans began for me to catch on.
Well played, Mackenzie.
Bedtime Skill Level: Master.
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
Casey Turns Seven............... wait, WHAT?!
He wants to go to China Sun Buffet for his birthday dinner. Because seafood. Word on the street is that he'll find a never-ending supply of clams there. The love of seafood is a bond that he and Shawn share.
He asked for Colton-approved video games for his birthday. It's not that he asked for something he wasn't interested in-- he just made sure Colton was interested too. That's a bond that they share.
He also wants a stuffed brown dog for his birthday. He and Mackenzie play 'Doggy Game' every day and he knew she would love an addition to their doggy family. It's a bond that they share.
He is our sweet heart, our most pleasing of people pleasers, our conflict repairman. He's Colton's constant champion and cheer squad (which, hopefully, Colton might someday see), Mackenzie's heavily indulgent best friend/big brother.... but in personality, not a lot like either of them. He is his own intensely unique self, sandwiched right in the middle.
And he's funny. He's funny in so many ways. I have a history of sharing the wacky things he says, and I kick myself when I forget to write them down and struggle to remember later on, almost like I just tossed away a priceless piece of abstract art.
He's also funny to me in ways that he doesn't understand. For instance, he always seems to think that no one likes him and he gets anxious about school and social events (he might be a little like his mother). However, whenever I walk with him through his school, it becomes apparent that he's a semi-celebrity. All I hear is, "Hey, Casey!!" "HI CASEY!!" "Is that your little sister, Casey??" from every other person in the hallway. I brought him to school late after an appointment one day, and half his class stopped what they were doing to greet him. He can't see the effect he has on people, but I can and it fills my heart up in a split second.
Kitty and Blanket are still an active part of his life. Every year that passes, I feel an immense relief that I can still hold on to that cuddly pile of deliciousness when he wakes up in the morning and carries them to my lap for a good snuggle. I know it can't last forever, and so I try to savor it, and breathe in that sweet smelling head of his, and relish in the idea that he's mine, my Sweet Casey the Bean, and that I'm so grateful to know him.
Happy 7th, Beans. I love you more than words can say. And no matter what happens in this world, never stop being You. You are a million times more than enough.
Love,
Mom
He asked for Colton-approved video games for his birthday. It's not that he asked for something he wasn't interested in-- he just made sure Colton was interested too. That's a bond that they share.
He also wants a stuffed brown dog for his birthday. He and Mackenzie play 'Doggy Game' every day and he knew she would love an addition to their doggy family. It's a bond that they share.
He is our sweet heart, our most pleasing of people pleasers, our conflict repairman. He's Colton's constant champion and cheer squad (which, hopefully, Colton might someday see), Mackenzie's heavily indulgent best friend/big brother.... but in personality, not a lot like either of them. He is his own intensely unique self, sandwiched right in the middle.
And he's funny. He's funny in so many ways. I have a history of sharing the wacky things he says, and I kick myself when I forget to write them down and struggle to remember later on, almost like I just tossed away a priceless piece of abstract art.
He's also funny to me in ways that he doesn't understand. For instance, he always seems to think that no one likes him and he gets anxious about school and social events (he might be a little like his mother). However, whenever I walk with him through his school, it becomes apparent that he's a semi-celebrity. All I hear is, "Hey, Casey!!" "HI CASEY!!" "Is that your little sister, Casey??" from every other person in the hallway. I brought him to school late after an appointment one day, and half his class stopped what they were doing to greet him. He can't see the effect he has on people, but I can and it fills my heart up in a split second.
Kitty and Blanket are still an active part of his life. Every year that passes, I feel an immense relief that I can still hold on to that cuddly pile of deliciousness when he wakes up in the morning and carries them to my lap for a good snuggle. I know it can't last forever, and so I try to savor it, and breathe in that sweet smelling head of his, and relish in the idea that he's mine, my Sweet Casey the Bean, and that I'm so grateful to know him.
Happy 7th, Beans. I love you more than words can say. And no matter what happens in this world, never stop being You. You are a million times more than enough.
Love,
Mom
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Catching Up...
I'm going to condense some moments that I've posted on Facebook in the last few months. I don't know why I post things there instead of here!
December 2, 2014:
I just asked Mackenzie what she wants for Christmas, and she said, "A bath. And when I come out of the tub, I can have a towel that goes over my head and makes me Queen." Nice. Simple. But! She came back with more: "And then I need my own house. And a four-wheeler." Time for a talk!
December 19, 2014:
One of the many reasons I love our neighborhood-- I got to pick Colton up from a Christmas cookie party with friends by driving his quad, and he drove me home. Now I'm just waiting for my heart rate to return to normal, because Holy Shit, Daredevil.
Christmas Day:
Santa brought the "sparkly dress" she asked for! She could not be happier about this.
February 7, 2015
Mackenzie's first time at the movie theater! Maybe SpongeBob wasn't the best choice for a 3-year-old, but her brothers were going and she really wanted to go too. The first 20 minutes were great.... but those were all previews and she was still enthralled with having the bucket of popcorn on her lap. Once the movie started, she was in my lap saying, "When we gonna go hoooommmmme?"
February 15, 2015
She hasn't fallen asleep on me since she was a baby. I was afraid it might be the last time, so I made Shawn get the camera.
March 20, 2015
These two are the best buddies ever. Mackenzie misses Casey when he's at school, and Casey misses Mackenzie when she takes a nap (the nap that, as a team, they often talk me out of). I hope they stay this way!
December 2, 2014:
I just asked Mackenzie what she wants for Christmas, and she said, "A bath. And when I come out of the tub, I can have a towel that goes over my head and makes me Queen." Nice. Simple. But! She came back with more: "And then I need my own house. And a four-wheeler." Time for a talk!
December 19, 2014:
One of the many reasons I love our neighborhood-- I got to pick Colton up from a Christmas cookie party with friends by driving his quad, and he drove me home. Now I'm just waiting for my heart rate to return to normal, because Holy Shit, Daredevil.
Christmas Day:
Santa brought the "sparkly dress" she asked for! She could not be happier about this.
February 7, 2015
Mackenzie's first time at the movie theater! Maybe SpongeBob wasn't the best choice for a 3-year-old, but her brothers were going and she really wanted to go too. The first 20 minutes were great.... but those were all previews and she was still enthralled with having the bucket of popcorn on her lap. Once the movie started, she was in my lap saying, "When we gonna go hoooommmmme?"
February 15, 2015
She hasn't fallen asleep on me since she was a baby. I was afraid it might be the last time, so I made Shawn get the camera.
March 20, 2015
These two are the best buddies ever. Mackenzie misses Casey when he's at school, and Casey misses Mackenzie when she takes a nap (the nap that, as a team, they often talk me out of). I hope they stay this way!
Jacob and I, Casey and Mackenzie
Easter 2015
Friday, October 10, 2014
Hunting, Halloween, Mutiny, and Survival Basics
It's kinda childish, but I always wait until Shawn leaves for his hunting trip to break out the Halloween decor. Like he's SO surprised when he comes home to find the house decorated every year. But I am a dork, and a dork I will remain. He left yesterday, and today after school the bins came out.
Never mind that last year, someone...... not saying it was me, but it was most likely me..... somehow mistook a small, real pumpkin for a fake pumpkin and packed that shit in a bin. DESTROYED quite a few decorations with mold and stench.
Colton is decorating upstairs, and he just came down to inform me that Mackenzie's room is now called "Kenziestein Kindgom", and his and Casey's room is called......um, "Haunted House".
That is all for tonight, because they really need attention right now.
8:15 AM, A 'MORNING AFTER' UPDATE: I broke up a fight at 1:30 AM (whaaaaaat?? Mackenzie slept in their room and brought a scary rat decoration to bed. Casey decided in the middle of the night that he couldn't take it anymore and wanted to kick the rat out. Arguments ensued...), again at 6 AM, and while I was in the shower at 7:30 AM. And I was awake from 1:30 to 5:30, trying to read myself to sleep. But I keep forgetting how good this book is, so it didn't work:
THEN... when I came downstairs after my shower, they were eating out of a box of Cheez Its for breakfast. Is this some kind of anarchy situation? With Shawn out of the house and only me to take down, are they attempting a teeny tiny stateless society?
(While I was typing that, Casey and Mackenzie were screaming at each other over Halloween stickers, so I kicked them out of the house. I opened the door and said, "Get out." They were actually pretty compliant with that one, even while looking at me like I was nuts. I'll remember that for the future.)
This is possibly the least streamlined blog post I've ever written. Time is an issue. But I am headed to Party City now for Halloween costumes. Let's see if I make it back alive...
TONIGHT: We (sorta) made it through the Party City experience. Just thought I'd add another update. These particular antics made me fall on the floor, laughing. Casey's superhuman 5-year-old brick wall strength shines in this photo:
Never mind that last year, someone...... not saying it was me, but it was most likely me..... somehow mistook a small, real pumpkin for a fake pumpkin and packed that shit in a bin. DESTROYED quite a few decorations with mold and stench.
THE HOUSE:
Colton is decorating upstairs, and he just came down to inform me that Mackenzie's room is now called "Kenziestein Kindgom", and his and Casey's room is called......um, "Haunted House".
That is all for tonight, because they really need attention right now.
8:15 AM, A 'MORNING AFTER' UPDATE: I broke up a fight at 1:30 AM (whaaaaaat?? Mackenzie slept in their room and brought a scary rat decoration to bed. Casey decided in the middle of the night that he couldn't take it anymore and wanted to kick the rat out. Arguments ensued...), again at 6 AM, and while I was in the shower at 7:30 AM. And I was awake from 1:30 to 5:30, trying to read myself to sleep. But I keep forgetting how good this book is, so it didn't work:
THEN... when I came downstairs after my shower, they were eating out of a box of Cheez Its for breakfast. Is this some kind of anarchy situation? With Shawn out of the house and only me to take down, are they attempting a teeny tiny stateless society?
(While I was typing that, Casey and Mackenzie were screaming at each other over Halloween stickers, so I kicked them out of the house. I opened the door and said, "Get out." They were actually pretty compliant with that one, even while looking at me like I was nuts. I'll remember that for the future.)
This is possibly the least streamlined blog post I've ever written. Time is an issue. But I am headed to Party City now for Halloween costumes. Let's see if I make it back alive...
TONIGHT: We (sorta) made it through the Party City experience. Just thought I'd add another update. These particular antics made me fall on the floor, laughing. Casey's superhuman 5-year-old brick wall strength shines in this photo:
For the record, they were laughing too. Mack was marching around in her underwear, barking out Captain's orders, and the boys were running a police station restaurant that functions on one policy: If you don't like what you're being served, you get tackled and handcuffed.
And Mackenzie is now repeatedly feeding her most beloved baby to the attacking skeleton hand candy bowl while soothingly telling her "It's okay, Beebie," then looking at me and saying, "Her wikes it."
Who raised these people??
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
I Just Hid from My Kids and Cried Into My Pillow for a Half Hour
I'm going to start out this blog entry with a simple fact: I can be a total fuckwit when it comes to parenting. And for so, so many reasons. Today, my fuckwittiness has to do with potty training Mackenzie.
Mackenzie is three now. She can talk in paragraphs (for really extended periods of time), keep up with her brothers, change her own outfit (5 times daily), manipulate a situation so it best serves her (with a smile on her face and a hug at the ready). The girl is growing up- sassy, strong-willed and adorable- and she's even starting preschool in less than two months.
But she will not poop in the potty.
This has been going on for some time. We've tried everything. Incentive (bribery?) in the form of a few M&Ms. When that didn't work, we upgraded to a bag of fruit snacks. Didn't work. We took a break from the whole thing and revisited it after a month or two. Didn't work. We read books about kids learning to use the potty while she was sitting on the potty. I made up dorky songs about pooping. Shawn and I took turns sitting on the bathroom floor for what felt like (and probably was) hours, trying to keep her company and entertain her. I took her to the store and let her pick out two big, toy babies (her favorite) and a bunch of little toys to put in her "Treasure Box". At home, I put them where she could see them, but couldn't reach them as a reminder of the awesomeness she would receive if she would only just poop in the potty. One day, I promised one baby, two treasure box toys, chocolate AND fruit snacks all at once if she would do it.
She resisted.
As soon as she was away from my watchful, dissecting (and, okay, sometimes easily distracted) eyes, she would find somewhere cozy and private and poop in her pants. When I was no longer willing to scrape her 'accidents' out of her brand new underwear, I started throwing her cute Dora and Hello Kitty underwear in the garbage, thinking she might get upset about it and stop pooping to save her favorite underwear. But her stubbornness prevailed. She said, "I don't want those underwear." (And when I promised candy, she said, "I don't like candy." LIES!)
So I reverted back to pull-ups in an attempt to save my sanity.
Last night, I sat with her for a long time, on and off, because I knew she had to go. She wouldn't. This morning, I rushed her to the bathroom immediately upon awakening. A no-go. When we got home from the store, I took off her pull-up. While we were playing outside, she asked for her juice. I went inside to find her cup, and within a minute or two I realized what I (or she?) had just done. I RAN back outside, but by the time I got to her, she was standing next to a pile of poop in the grass.
And that's when I lost it.
Any bit of patience that I formerly possessed was gone. I yelled. I was pissed. I let my frustration out and I put her to bed for her nap without her sippy cup or her favorite blanket or any kind of loving gesture. And then I slammed her door. And when she started singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star", I pounded on her door and said, "AND NO SINGING IN THERE!!" (Kind of reminded me of that saying-- "If Mama ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy".)
I went downstairs with my raging energy and cleaned any messes I could find (because that's what I do with raging energy. If I can't run away from the house, screaming, then I clean stuff). And when I started to level off, I.... got.... sad. Because parenting is a day-in, day-out test of sanity and temperament, and that moment, among other recent moments with each one of my kids, was a looooooowwwww point. And those low points add up. So I let the boys play video games and I hid in my room and cried.
And no, this isn't about how parenting is miserable and impossible and a general fuck all. In fact, I even had a few laughs while I wrote this, listening to Colton and Casey giggle at each other. Here's a sample of them discussing the PS3 games they just bought with their yard sale/lemonade stand money (Colton chose Minecraft and Casey chose Sonic):
COLTON: My game is cooler, because in Minecraft, you can build things, like your own city. And you can die.
CASEY: But dude, my guy is blue, and blue's my favorite color.
So... I'm not even sure why I'm recording these sentiments today. I have a tendency to view time past with my kids from a nostalgic place, free from daily irritation and foibles. Maybe I need make sure that I can look back and see the reality of it, so that in twenty years I can level with the mom in the grocery store wrangling psychotic children and doing the best she can. So that I don't stand back in judgement and think, "My kids NEVER acted like that", or "I NEVER would have reacted that way". Because, good Lord, it happens. It happens on your good days and it happens (in a bigger, uglier way) on your bad days. And learning to navigate through that as a parent, just like they're learning to navigate their worlds, can be next to impossible sometimes. And fun and exciting and all that shit, too, but that's a blog for another day. :)
Mackenzie is three now. She can talk in paragraphs (for really extended periods of time), keep up with her brothers, change her own outfit (5 times daily), manipulate a situation so it best serves her (with a smile on her face and a hug at the ready). The girl is growing up- sassy, strong-willed and adorable- and she's even starting preschool in less than two months.
But she will not poop in the potty.
This has been going on for some time. We've tried everything. Incentive (bribery?) in the form of a few M&Ms. When that didn't work, we upgraded to a bag of fruit snacks. Didn't work. We took a break from the whole thing and revisited it after a month or two. Didn't work. We read books about kids learning to use the potty while she was sitting on the potty. I made up dorky songs about pooping. Shawn and I took turns sitting on the bathroom floor for what felt like (and probably was) hours, trying to keep her company and entertain her. I took her to the store and let her pick out two big, toy babies (her favorite) and a bunch of little toys to put in her "Treasure Box". At home, I put them where she could see them, but couldn't reach them as a reminder of the awesomeness she would receive if she would only just poop in the potty. One day, I promised one baby, two treasure box toys, chocolate AND fruit snacks all at once if she would do it.
She resisted.
As soon as she was away from my watchful, dissecting (and, okay, sometimes easily distracted) eyes, she would find somewhere cozy and private and poop in her pants. When I was no longer willing to scrape her 'accidents' out of her brand new underwear, I started throwing her cute Dora and Hello Kitty underwear in the garbage, thinking she might get upset about it and stop pooping to save her favorite underwear. But her stubbornness prevailed. She said, "I don't want those underwear." (And when I promised candy, she said, "I don't like candy." LIES!)
So I reverted back to pull-ups in an attempt to save my sanity.
Last night, I sat with her for a long time, on and off, because I knew she had to go. She wouldn't. This morning, I rushed her to the bathroom immediately upon awakening. A no-go. When we got home from the store, I took off her pull-up. While we were playing outside, she asked for her juice. I went inside to find her cup, and within a minute or two I realized what I (or she?) had just done. I RAN back outside, but by the time I got to her, she was standing next to a pile of poop in the grass.
And that's when I lost it.
Any bit of patience that I formerly possessed was gone. I yelled. I was pissed. I let my frustration out and I put her to bed for her nap without her sippy cup or her favorite blanket or any kind of loving gesture. And then I slammed her door. And when she started singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star", I pounded on her door and said, "AND NO SINGING IN THERE!!" (Kind of reminded me of that saying-- "If Mama ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy".)
I went downstairs with my raging energy and cleaned any messes I could find (because that's what I do with raging energy. If I can't run away from the house, screaming, then I clean stuff). And when I started to level off, I.... got.... sad. Because parenting is a day-in, day-out test of sanity and temperament, and that moment, among other recent moments with each one of my kids, was a looooooowwwww point. And those low points add up. So I let the boys play video games and I hid in my room and cried.
And no, this isn't about how parenting is miserable and impossible and a general fuck all. In fact, I even had a few laughs while I wrote this, listening to Colton and Casey giggle at each other. Here's a sample of them discussing the PS3 games they just bought with their yard sale/lemonade stand money (Colton chose Minecraft and Casey chose Sonic):
COLTON: My game is cooler, because in Minecraft, you can build things, like your own city. And you can die.
CASEY: But dude, my guy is blue, and blue's my favorite color.
So... I'm not even sure why I'm recording these sentiments today. I have a tendency to view time past with my kids from a nostalgic place, free from daily irritation and foibles. Maybe I need make sure that I can look back and see the reality of it, so that in twenty years I can level with the mom in the grocery store wrangling psychotic children and doing the best she can. So that I don't stand back in judgement and think, "My kids NEVER acted like that", or "I NEVER would have reacted that way". Because, good Lord, it happens. It happens on your good days and it happens (in a bigger, uglier way) on your bad days. And learning to navigate through that as a parent, just like they're learning to navigate their worlds, can be next to impossible sometimes. And fun and exciting and all that shit, too, but that's a blog for another day. :)
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