Underestimation

My new, typical Sunday consists of driving in to work to prepare for Monday's flying. Today, I decided to let Ava tag along for some "mommy/Ava" time! The plan was to finish work prep, and then we'd head by the store to pick up Stevie's valentine's for school on Tuesday. Then maybe, JUST maybe I'd treat her to something special if she could behave herself.

At work, she quickly ran out of patience for what I needed to accomplish. So I put her at a desk and gave her a notepad and a pen and imagined up some important work that she needed to help me finish. 95% of my attention was on what I needed to get done, while I portioned off 5% to the nods and smiles that usually keep Ava happy.

Ava: Mommy, look... I drew my name!
Mommy:  Mm hmm, that's nice honey...
Ava (from across the room): See, there's my A, V, A... Ava!
Mommy:  Yep, that's a great job love!

I was convinced my child had scribbled "her version" of an A, V, A onto that paper. So you can only imagine that heart-swell moment I encountered when I looked down at her paper that she brought to me and I saw her name, in plain English. A... V... A...

So proud of her, I had her take a marker and draw on the board on the fridge for daddy when we got home. Another first for my Ava Ryan...

I don't want them...

It's true. Today, I don't want my children. I love my oldest daughter to death - she's smart, and respectful, and responsible. However, when her 4 yr old sister asks to play with her, my oldest finds every excuse under the sun to do something else, without her. I can't force the bonding process... and I'm sick of encouraging it. I just want to click my three heels and turn around and find them magically playing "Littlest Pet Shop" with smiles and giggles that fill the air. But - no... All I hear from the other room is "Stevie, will you play with me?" and the 9 yr old reply "not right noooooow Ava!"

Of ALL children - my 4 yr old is asking to die. Her "terrible" face has been going for months now. She refuses to eat when she's at the table. She refuses to listen until we have to use our OUTSIDE voices to get our point across. She's never happy, despite our best efforts to make her happy. She's hyper - I've self-diagnosed the child with ADHD. She wakes up and her brain is going 200mph, and she stays that way until she's forced into bed at night. Today, I cannot take it anymore. I have closed the curtains over my eyes and shut out the world... she has pushed my last button.

My 1 yr old is sweet, but just as terrible. As I type this, she's crawled up on the couch with the 4 yr old who is trying to watch a movie. Victoria is kicking Ava in the head, and Ava is yelling "STOP IT!" and Victoria is laughing a vicious laugh and deep inside - I'm laughing too... I've wanted to kick her in the head all day, and now I get to live vicariously through my 1 yr old. I've cleaned the house 10 times today, and each time I clean a room, I look behind me and Victoria has destroyed it again... in her wake, a trail of toys that I have to re-sort and put away again.

Why, oh why did work give us a three day weekend? Don't they realize I look forward to my 5 day vacations from my children!?

Unfinished Projects

When I was 2 months pregnant with Stevie, I decided I was going to start a journal for her. What it was like to experience my pregnancy with her... the places we went (while she was in my belly) and the things we did together while she was too young to remember. I did ok for a few months... then I had her and I was WAYYY too busy to sit down and write. So months would pass between entries. Finally, I stopped writing in it all together.

Then I had Ava. I bought two matching journals, and planned to transcribe Stevie's old one into the new one and write for both daughters. Now, I have Stevie's original, Stevie's half transcribed new one, and a blank one for Ava.

Stevie's baby book is the only thing I completed - cover to cover. Stuffed it with pictures and millions of words to document her first years. Ava's is about 3/4 complete. Not as many pictures in it as I would like. I skipped a few months of development tracking. Poor Victoria - Her baby book is bare. I truly feel bad! I don't remember the exact day of her first steps... the month that she started laughing... when she started using a sippy cup, or what her first real food was.

These unfinished projects are reminders of a terrible mommy! How did I become so busy that I couldn't sit down and dedicate a few moments a day to documenting the lives of my children!? (I promise, I do... just not on paper!) These three heathens bring me SO MUCH love and joy. Every bit of it is engraved on my heart, embedded in my soul. I can only pray that when they're older, they don't hate me or judge me for the lack of ink I put on paper... but rather measure my love for them in the experiences that I have provided for them, and the dedication I gave to them throughout their lives!

When They're Older

When they're older, they're going to hate me for saving pictures like this:

Stevie had a little TOO much fun on our vacation weekend in France...

Ava really is as special as she looks :)  

TURTLES TURTLES!

No No!!

A few months ago, I had to use the "mean voice" with Victoria. She has a great habit of playing with her food halfway through her meal. She loves to stow things in her seat - so she'll pick up hot dogs or grapes or whatever she's eating and proceed to put them down the side of her chair where they collect under the padding until the weekend comes and I can dump out her stash.

I caught her doing this one evening at dinner, and I leaned over and got in her face and sternly said "NO NO!" Her eyes became huge... tears welled up in her eyes and her cheeks turned dark red. Then - the biggest pouting lip I've ever seen protruded and she opened up her lungs and let out a loud wail! (my mean voice worked.)

Terrible mommy confession: I showed this new trick to friends when they'd come over. I'd use the mean voice just so they could see the pouting lip for themselves (because it was so cute) and then I'd pick her up and cuddle her before she had the chance to cry. Hahahahahahahaaha....

Looking Backward

As explained in Fashionista Part I - Stevie is a girlie girl. However, we live in Germany where it isn't always appropriate to wear skirts and dresses and flip flops to school (especially in late autumn, early winter.)

Here you have:  Fashionista, part II.

So one day... in first grade... I had picked out Stevie's clothes for school that day while she was eating breakfast. She finished eating, and then ran in to see what she was wearing that day, just as I was walking out. She was furious to find that I'd picked out another pair of jeans, a sweater, and thick socks to keep her warm. (I mean, she'll be outside during recess, and walking to and from school as well...) I just wanted my baby girl to be warm! Well, it's true... mothers DO have eyes in the back of their head. I caught Stevie's reflection in a picture frame on the way out of her bedroom and that little girl scrunched up her nose, opened her mouth wide, crossed her eyes, and stuck her tongue as far out as she possibly could in protest of her chosen wardrobe. It took all I had not to laugh! I simply kept walking, entertained with the knowledge that I was a terrible mommy!

Fashionista

When I was pregnant with Stevie, I envisioned her growing into my little tomboy. I wanted her to have long, blonde curls and run around barefooted with overalls on and dirt between her toes. (no such luck.) Stevie is a princess. She adores skirts, flats, dresses and knee-high boots. She's recently found a love for jewelry, and even asked for Taylor Swift perfume for Christmas.

Last year, during the winter months of 3rd grade, she chose to wear her beloved yellow halter-top dress
from Children's Place to school. Mind you, we live in Germany where winter brings 25-40 degree weather. When she walked out of her room wearing this damn dress (for the 4th time that month) - it was like nails down a chalkboard... My shoulders drew up towards my head, my hair automatically stood on end. I said nothing. She's in 3rd grade - it's time she learns the consequences of her decisions. (she's gonna freeze her butt...)

I heard her go to the shoe cabinet and ponder her choices. Hmm, fuzzy black crocs... brown boots. snow boots. flip flops... She comes back to the living room and plops down on the couch, clearly frustrated. "Mom, what shoes do I wear to school?" Before I had the chance to answer her, her father chimed in with one of his usual sarcastic answers... "You ought to wear flip flops! You've got a summer dress on!" Not to our surprise, she finished breakfast, grabbed her jacket and backpack, and proceeded to walk to school wearing her pink. flip. flops.

Before I left for work that morning, I shot a quick email to her teacher to let him know that we weren't careless parents... that Stevie had a closet full of winter clothes and snow boots and tennis shoes and socks in her drawer. However, there's a time in every child's life where they need to learn some valuable lessons in decision making. We had lectured until we were blue in the face about wearing things that were appropriate for the weather.

Apparently her teacher had a small talk with her that day - because she didn't wear that dress again until the weather took a turn for the warmer.

(there's a part II to this Fashionista post.) It's a story from 1st grade - but this post was long enough, so I'll save it for later!