Drinking the koolaid

Ah, so I've been a bit MIA that past month or so. What can you do? But, now, I'm enjoying my sabbath rest. I pitty anyone who does not celebrate their Sabbath. You people are TOTALLY missing out. It's a day of church, family and minimal everything. Like grilled cheese for dinner. What a great family tradition. I'm now the 3rd generation Sabbath Grilled Cheese-er. With ketchup, I should add.

So over the past busy weeks, I've been contimplating my participation in drinking the koolaid, so to speak. I don't think that I downed it all in one sitting, more liked I've been sipping it here and there over the past few years. Some how, I have come to believe that I should be able to do it all. To have some sort of a career, a family, a clean house, home-made food and time for myself, among many, many other things. Women have been fighting for centuries to "have it all". Turns out, in my opinion, "all" is a lot of work! I for one am taking a stand. I will try to embace my crumb-laiden floors as a sign on things that have gone by the way-side. The problem is that I do WANT it all. I want to have a job as an identity, to partake in adult conversations, to discuss things of more "importance" than where the missing duplos went. But...I also want to know where the freeking duplo went and to be able to fix that very important problem for a three year old. I keep coming back to wanting everything but not knowing where the balance is. For now, the balance is in working part time from home. That misses out on the 'adult conversation' aspect, but gives me much more time for the fleeting importances of childhood. I think I should tatoo that to their little heads...lest I forget in the throws of sibling fights, playdough in the hair, crayon chunks firmly embeded in the molars, 27lb, 18-month old, Tarzan strength toddler attached to the calf while in the midst of cooking a casserole soon to be proclained as "eeewwwy" by a critical 3-year old, that these things are FLEETING. Maybe head tatoos will catch on and become a new fad. ;)

That is the thing, though. Being home is hard and it sucks many days. Hubby got a MILD taste of this early this week. I had budget meetings to attend to, and it was raining. So, he heroically was home for a few hours mid-day to parent these mini genetic mutations of ourselves. After two hours you'd think he had performed humintarian acts warranting a peace prize or something. I was informed that we have no toys (translation: we have no RACE CAR toys that a 26-year old dad-kid finds entertaining) and that there is nothing to do (translation: we're stuck in the house and the house is no fun). I mean, God bless you women who are able to do it every day. I have to retreat to my office a day or so a week! And even more so, God bless you people who take care of children so that I CAN retreat to my office! I tell you what. I love being home with them, but I'll be the first to raise my hand and say I'm not particularly good at it. I delete the emails sent from other moms about cool projects to do with your kids. I pretend that we'll "someday" do the projects in the Highlight magazine that Buddy gets in the mail. Ya, we'll TOTALLY make that backpack-thingy, complete with glitter, someday! I'm just dont' enjoy that kind of stuff. So maybe I'm horrible. Or maybe I'm human. Who knows.

In growth news, Little Miss went to the dr on Friday for her 18 month check. She's apparently 95% for her height and bound to be a 5'10"-6' giant, somewhat like me. However, I hope to teach her at a young age that high heels were made for tall chicks too. Gosh darn it.

She is talking all the time. She has taken on a personality all her own. (No idea where she gets her stubborn streak...if my mom chimes in, she's a liar!) She throws fits the likes of which I have never seen before. And she's sneaky as the devil. That girl has her daddy wrapped so tightly around her finger it is unreal. She can FAKE cry, yes, cry on command, to get her way. In fact, this morning, she saw her daddy eatting a cinnamon roll. It played out like this:
LM: Bite, Bite, Bite, Bite, Bite
H: No sweety, you're in the tub, you don't need a bite
LM: (scrunches up face, puppy dog eyes, followed by big ole honkin tears) cries
Me: LM, No. Daddy said no.
H: (looks at me) Honey!?! But look at her? How can you say no to that?
ME: (eyes back on paper, monotone answer...knowing what will happen next) You just do.
H: (gives LM a bite) But see how happy she is
LM: (giggles and sits back down in tub, with frosting on her lips, smiles at daddy)

Seriously, how can I compete with that?! Bah. It's going to be a long 18 years, I think! Now with her talking, she is more devious than ever before. I think the three of them scheme to gang up on me....and I think the girl is their leader.

Buddy is still enjoying preschool, and schock of all shockers, his children's church teacher says he listens and obeys and is great. Huh? My kid? I mean we talk about listening an obeying at home, but it doesn't really seem like it sinks in, what with all the time outs and all. But, apparently he can manage some good behavoir when we aren't present. And the kid is a lady killer in his new little tie that he wears to church. What a cutie. And, after the whole riding the bike with training wheels incidents, I'm not sure if I'm going to be the parent of choice to teach him how to drive a car, though. Apparently I'm a bit short on patience. Huh. Who knew? He's quite the little daddy follower as well. He has recently taken to repeating everything we say at the dinner table, some times its a bit comical, other times...not so much! Nothing like hearing a three year old talk about profit, loss and other business items. :) Maybe I'll just call it educational.

All in all, it's hard to believe that the cold weather of near-winter have started to move in. I'm still in denial sometimes as I bundle them up in jackets, only to realize that it's freezing outside, and that winter coats with hats would have been the better choice. I cannot believe that yesterday marked the half-way point in November already, or that turkey day is next week. Apparently, time moves on whether you're ready or not. Funny how that works...