Wordless Wednesday: Making Muffins with Mommy

This post will be linked to Wordless Wednesday at 5 Minutes for Mom.

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Finding my song

I wrote this as a guest post at Bec’s I Heart Blog a few weeks ago, and I thought I’d share it with you, too. (The image is by hiddedevries.)

I remember this one slumber party in high school. I’m not sure what the occasion was, but snacks and movies and giggling were surely involved. At one point in the evening, we were piled in my friend Angie’s room singing along with whatever song came on the radio.

And I grabbed a hairbrush and rocked out.

That might not seem significant to you, but to me, it was memorable. For that brief moment, I was free. I wasn’t embarrassed, I wasn’t self-conscious. I just sang.

From middle school on, I was in every chorus and choir our school had. I sang a few solos, some duets and even a sextet (which, as you can imagine, prompted many rude jokes from the male members of our choir).

Smitty and I loved to argue about who first said it, but regardless, we both believed it: There’s a song about everything. And that means that everything made me think of a song.

But ask me to sing the song that I so cleverly thought of? Um, no thanks!

I wanted to sing. I realized how silly it was. But singing on a stage, with lights and microphone and crowds down below, is one thing. Singing by myself, standing in front of someone, even my closest friends? That was way too intimidating.

College, marriage and my early career years helped me let go of a lot of my reservations. Or, more accurately, made me a little less uptight. But I still had this thing, this hang-up about singing.

Even though I sang in a huge choir, led worship at church and sang solos, too.
There was just something so awkward about impromptu singing, something embarrassing about potential sour notes and forgotten words.

As a matter of fact, a few years ago I was forced (FORCED!) into singing karaoke at a work retreat. I fought it, I protested it; but they made me do it. I thought I was going to die. {Although, for the record, my rendition of “Walks Like an Egyptian” was quite impressive.}

Something happened shortly after that incident, though. I had a baby. A baby who likes music. And so, I sing.

I sing her to sleep. I sing her awake. I sing to her in the bath, and I sing to her as I get her dressed. I sing about her toys and our family and our cats and her hair and her toes.

I sing All. The. Time.

While before, everything made me think of songs that I couldn’t share with anyone, now I blurt out notes and melodies at the drop of a hat.

Sometimes I don’t even realize what I’m doing. Like this past weekend, when I tried to distract my cranky daughter in the car by naming all the things she could see outside her window.

After she decided that the sky was, in fact, blue not red, I could hear it in my head: Blue skies smilin’ at me. Nothin’ but blue skies do I see . . .

The next thing I heard was my husband chuckling. I asked him what was so funny, and he said, “That’s the last thing I ever thought I’d hear: you singing Willie Nelson.”

{Background: I’m not a real big Willie Nelson fan.}

Little did he know, I wasn’t. I was singing Frank Sinatra!

But what was more interesting is that I was singing at all. Not in the shower. Not to the radio. Not within the comfort of a choir or lighted stage. Nope, I was just singing whatever came to mind – without thinking about it, without even realizing it.

I love singing. And now, it seems, I can actually do it whenever I want!

Do you like to sing? Are you embarrassed to sing in front of certain people, or do you let it all hang out no matter who’s around?

This post will be linked to Tuesdays Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky.

P.S. According to the Internet, the title I originally wrote for this post (Sing a Song) is also the title of a “well-known song by Earth, Wind & Fire.” Far be it from me to argue with the Internet, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard of it. Have you? [Sing a Song by Earth, Wind & Fire]

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The dangers of potty training

Sometimes I think it would be easier to just keep her in diapers.

For instance, when we drove to my cousin’s house a few weeks ago for a family birthday party, that three-hour drive would have been much simpler with a baby in diapers. Instead, we had the pleasure of stopping more than once on the way there for potty breaks – and stopping to mop up a wet car seat on the way home.

Running errands is also a tad more difficult these days. Because my curious – and slightly conniving – little sweetheart insists on visiting every single public restroom in a 25-mile radius of our house.

Finally, I’ve recently discovered the danger potty training poses during timeouts.

Weekends are always difficult, partly because our schedules are different and that throws all of us for a loop. But it’s also due to the expectations we (okay, fine - I) place on the two days we have together. I mean, it’s our only family time. [I may have said that a time or twenty.]

Whatever the reason, most weeks present a struggle with patience and behavior and attitudes and obedience. Annalyn has some issues, too.

So last weekend, when my darling daughter spent several two-minute stretches in timeout, it was life as usual. What was new, however, was her decision to pee in her crib during timeout.

[Yes, she’s still sleeping in a crib. I know, I know. We have to move her to a big girl bed soon, but she hasn’t tried climbing out since that one time that scared both of us out of our minds. We’re on borrowed time, I know, but I’m enjoying it as long as it lasts. Bedtime is just so darned easy now!]

But back to the issue at hand: She peed in her crib out of anger!

My father-in-law said, “Oh, she just got so mad she couldn’t control it, huh?”

Um, no. She was mad and out of control, yes. But she decided to take control the only way she could – and PEED!

The second time she did it (so I had already stripped and remade her bed), she sat on her PILLOW and did it! She PEED on her pillow to get back at me for putting her in timeout!

Well, joke’s on her. Because have you ever tried to wash a pillow? It never comes out the way it started. It’s lumpy and fat and generally uncomfortable. So there.

Seriously. I anticipated wet pants and weeks of bare feet. Once I recovered from the initial shock, I wasn’t even that surprised about this episode. But I never guessed that my sweet little angel (ha!) would respond to timeouts by peeing on herself.

Crazy.

Then again . . . I guess I do some pretty stupid things when I get mad. No, I don’t typically stomp my feet, spit, throw myself on the floor, wail and whine, or otherwise act like a certain two-year-old I know.

But I do hold on to hurts and bitterness, instead of letting forgiveness and time ease them away.
I decide that fine, I’ll just be perfect from now on, so you won’t have anything to criticize – instead of apologizing for a mistake or explaining my viewpoint or decisions.
Or I eat. I push my feelings down with salt and sugar and a round of carbs for everyone.
Sometimes I clam up.
Sometimes I scream.
Sometimes I cry.
Almost all the time, I give myself a pounding headache.
I really don’t behave well when I’m mad.

Well, well, well. Once again, I’m forced to see the similarities between myself and a toddler.

How do you behave when you’re mad? (Please tell me you don’t pee in your bed!)

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Rolling with the changes

Annalyn enjoying her daddy at dinnertime!

Life at my house is a little different these days. Mark has a new job, and we’re doing things differently than before.

From the time I was pregnant until just a couple months ago, Mark has worked evenings. And when I say “evenings,” I mean that he was gone from early afternoon to late at night, sometimes not getting home until after midnight.

In other words, for Annalyn’s entire life, we have never had family time during the week. She had time with her daddy, she had time with her mommy, and we all met up on the weekend.

It wasn’t as bad as it sounds, although it did drive me to blog. Then again, I hope you’d agree that my blogging isn’t a bad result, either!

A couple months ago, though, Mark changed jobs and now works (mostly) nights. So now, we have our whole evenings together. We also moved Annalyn’s bedtime back to 7:30, giving us even more time to play and eat and be together.

All this change has spurred more change. It’s all good, but change still takes some getting used to. The first two nights that Mark was home, I thought I was going to lose my mind.

He was just so . . . THERE! In my space! Sitting on my couch! Watching my TV! Looking at me!

Thankfully, I realized quickly that I was being a jerk. I apologized, and we adjusted. Ahem. We’re still adjusting. As a matter of fact, I came up with 10 ways (as in Top Ten Tuesday, of course) that we’re adjusting to change right now:

1. Family time: As I mentioned, we have a lot more time together now. Or, as Annalyn says, “all of us.” If we want, we can go to the store together or play in the backyard together. Granted, it is summer, and the backyard is ridiculously humid. So I should say that it allows Annalyn to play in the yard with Mark while I sneak inside to the house. With the air conditioning.
2. Cooking dinner: But that does bring me to my second point: I have more opportunity to cook dinner now. A real dinner. Not a plain cheese quesadilla and canned fruit for Annalyn, while I eat chips and salsa until she goes to bed. But a real, cooked on the stove, featuring at least three of the four food groups dinner. Sometimes (like last night), Mark does the cooking and I do the playing. Either way, we get the chance to cook for our family, and that’s something we both enjoy but didn’t get to do often when we spent our evenings apart.
3. Family dinner: With Mark’s previous schedule, our only chance to eat meals as a family was on the weekend. And weekends are usually busy, leaving us little time to plan or cook or eat nice meals together. That left lunch on the days I came home from work, but it’s hard to enjoy much together-ness in 30 rushed minutes, with a 2-year-old. So being able to eat dinner – all of us, at the same time, with manners! – feels like a small miracle.
4. Bathtime and bedtime: For the first two and a half years of Annalyn’s life, I was the only person here (during the week) to give her a bath and put her to bed. You know what that means, right? Poor girl did NOT get a bath every night – or, sometimes, even every other night! Seriously, she’s a good girl and there’s only one of her, so it’s not like bedtime was always such a hardship. But having Mark here to help with the nighttime routine is so nice! And I think it’s really good for Annalyn, too.
5. Gas money: Okay, this one has nothing to do with being a family and everything to do with money. Mark’s new job is way closer to our house than the old one. So he buys gas half as often as he used to – saving us more than $100 a month!
6. Mo’ money: On top of the gas savings, he’s also making more money, which means we're finally going to get out of debt. And that makes him feel really good. Not in a money-is-the-most-important-thing sort of way. But he worked really hard to get this job – and he persevered even though that’s not normally his MO, and now he’s proud of the fact that he’s providing so well for his family. And I’m proud of him, too.
7. Flexibility: This might surprise you, but I’m not the most flexible person out there. I like rules and schedules and structure and lines around my colors. But Mark’s new job, at least for now, has none of that. He works a different shift every night, and we don’t know what that different shift will be until the day it happens. When I first realized this (after he’d signed paperwork but before he started the new job), I may have had a complete meltdown. Okay, let’s be honest. I did. But since then, I’ve managed to adjust to this new way of life and can see that it’s not a bad trade-off for the family time we’re gaining and the debt we’re starting to pay off. {Not to say I didn’t freak out a little bit on the night he didn’t get called in to work at all. But c’mon! That would frustrate any budget-creating and bill-paying wife, right?}
8. TV watching: Having Mark home in the evenings was a wake-up call. His presence was like a mirror, held up to my lazy habits. I didn’t like it. Seriously, I’m pretty sure my husband was appalled to realize just how much of my evenings have been spent sitting on the couch. He understands how it happened (newborn + unemployment and then underemployment + too much alone time = a LOT of time spent on the Internet, watching TV and generally not moving around). But he still wasn’t impressed. Thankfully, it’s summer, so TV isn’t a big draw anyway. But we may have some more adjusting to do come fall.
9. Blogging time: Just like it seems that I watch too much TV (and I do), it also seems to Mark that I spend too much time on the computer. And…I do. I haven’t had to be a good manager of my time, because it’s been all my time. Nobody was here to care if I spent three hours in front of my two favorite screens and then stayed up late to change laundry, pick up the house and clean up the kitchen. But now that Mark is here to point out (gently, of course. Ha!) how ridiculous that is? I’m trying to figure out how to be more efficient.
10. My bed: For nine years, Mark and I shared a full-size bed. Not long ago, we finally upgraded to a queen, and we’re not quite sure how we lasted those nine years. Now that we’re sleeping – for the most part – during two completely different parts of the day, though? We are in slumber heaven. Neither one of us has someone snoring in our ears or rolling over too far or breathing in my face. It’s just me, my pillow and nothing but space. Having the bed to myself is a definite change – but I have to say it’s kind of nice. {Weird disclaimer: Please don’t bother being concerned about the state of our marriage based on this situation. Of course I miss my husband at night, and yes, we do sleep in the same bed at the same time on the weekends. So, really, it’s all good.}

Those are the main ways we’ve been adjusting to all the changes going on. Does everyone in your family work, eat and sleep on the same schedule? Have you had to adjust to any changes lately?

This post will be linked to OhAmanda’s Top Ten Tuesday.

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Wordless Wednesday: Popsicle Face

Sometimes the mess is worth it!

For more Wordless Wednesday, visit 5 Minutes for Mom.

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Pink toes

Pay no attention to the Skittles on my mouth!

As I buckled her into her car seat, she said, “I have white toes.”

Okaaaaay.

Then, “Elise has pink toes. I have white toes.”

Oh! I get it now. Her friend Elise has painted toenails.

“Would you like me to paint your toenails pink?” I asked.

“Yeah!”

And just like that, I made her day. Actually, based on the way she showed off her pink toes and “stingers” [fingers] over the next several days, I made her week.

I couldn’t help but think just how easy it is to make her happy now. Two year olds throw fits over the most ridiculous things, but they also delight in the simplest pleasures.

Like pink toes.
Or princess band-aids.
Or a new bouncy ball from the store.
Or blowing bubbles on the front porch.
Or rediscovering a bucket of stuffed animals that have been neglected for six months.

It’s so easy now. But it won’t always be that way.

I think of the times my parents just couldn’t – or wouldn’t – do what I wanted to make me happy. I think of dance lessons we couldn’t afford and extracurricular activities they didn’t approve. I think of church camp and parties missed and rules and budgets enforced.

But then I remember hugs and lessons and support and love. And I know that they gave me everything I ever needed – and so much more. Like piano lessons and Camp Fire uniforms. Like a second pair of basketball shoes, after my first pair got stolen. Like a dress for a dance that I never got asked to.

And I know that my little girl will be just fine, even if she doesn’t get everything she wants.

Still, I’m glad I can give her pink toes.

This post will be linked to What I Learned This Week at Inmates to Playdates and Tuesdays Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky.

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A mish-mash . . . not to be confused with a mash-up.

Have “mash-ups” always been a thing? Or is that a recent development in the world of pop music, YouTube videos and Glee?

Anyway, I know there’s not much lamer (more lame?) than a post full of random bits of nothing important. Unless it’s publishing a boring post that you don’t like just to post something – and then deciding to delete the post after all.

I know, I know. Blog foul. I’m sorry. I’ll try not to prematurely post – or badly post – again. But, since I already hit that low this week, we might as well just dive headfirst into this random list of stuff. (Also known as a mish-mash.)

First, if you didn’t get a chance to read yesterday’s post before its untimely demise, here are links to my recent guest posts:

Earning my nerd status . . . again at Mommin' It Up
Last-minute cleaning for guests at I Dream of Clean (a reprise from an earlier post)
Does anyone make a Two-Year Bible? at Life's Not Always Fireflies & Hummingbirds

The strangest thing happened last week. After throwing my salsa party and then eating the leftovers for four days straight, I actually became – get this – tired of Mexican food. Can you believe it? I never thought I’d live to see that day.

Mainly because I was sure that if the day arrived that I didn’t want to eat Mexican, I was surely dead. Probably as a result of a queso incident.

But it’s true. Mark offered to take me out for Mexican food for Mother’s Day – and I said, “No thanks.”

Weird.

Speaking of too much spicy food (Well? Weren’t we?), I have a couple of stories that I am dying to tell you about the potty training that’s been going on in our house lately. But, I’m restraining myself. Literally.

Okay, not literally. Because first, that would be weird. And second, I wouldn’t be able to type. And while I don’t think you need the details – hilarious or not – of Annalyn’s transition from diapers to underwear, I am just sure you’ve been wondering about the whole process.

No? Huh. So . . . you mean your world doesn’t revolve around who went pee when and if they got their Skittle?

Oh, all right. Fine. I’ll just tell you this: a) Potty training has not been nearly as difficult as I feared, b) After four weeks, Annalyn is doing GREAT and she hasn’t had a real accident in several days, c) Despite the lovely princess potty chart I made and shiny gold star stickers my mom gave us, Annalyn has responded much better to candy. As her bribe. Because yes, I’m a briber. And last but not least, d) It turns out sopping wet Pull-Ups smell just as bad in the trash can as dirty diapers.

I think I might write a post later about what I learned throughout this whole adventure. But not until we make it through the night-time training. And that is a monster I am not ready to tackle yet!

[Although, it IS a monster we’ll be tackling anyway. Probably in about a week. And I can’t wait. Really.]

Speaking of getting up in the night with your child (No, you cannot convince me that night-time potty training won’t involve a lot of that. You just can’t.), my friend Daphne just had a baby. A second baby. Her son is three months older than Annalyn. And she just had another baby.

I know. I know, okay? I realize that many people have their babies close together, some even on purpose – and they survive. But I just don’t know how. Honestly. I cannot imagine having another child right now.

[Friends and family who have lots of littles running around, please keep your eye rolling and comments to yourselves. Because. I know.]

But Daphne now has another child. And . . . I have to admit . . . Annalyn and I both thought he was adorable!

We visited them in the hospital on Tuesday, and the whole way there, Annalyn chattered about her balloon (which is valid, as I’d gotten her a pink balloon to make sure she didn’t hijack the blue balloons for the baby) and her baby (which is not valid, but I could not for the life of me convince her that the baby we were visiting was not, in fact, hers).

Thankfully, our visit was a short one, so I don’t think the baby-is-so-cute-must-have-one-now vibes stuck with me.

And now, I think that’s enough random for one day. Stay tuned for an update on Mark’s new work schedule, summer trips I have planned, the sadness I feel about my friend who is moving across the country, and a near bee attack.

What random thoughts are filling up your head today?

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What's in a name?

When I was young, I picked out names for my future children. One would be called Megan Elizabeth, I remember. And another would be called Samantha, but go by Sam. Because I thought boy names for girls were cute.

[Still do.]

I had a whole list of names that my friend Nichole and I came up with together, and I kept that piece of paper for many years.

Sadly, it didn’t make it to my adulthood, so when Mark and I found out we were expecting, we had to start from scratch.

[Although I was a big proponent of naming a girl Charlotte and calling her Charlie for short. Because I think boy names for girls are cute.]

Annalyn has recently learned how to say her full name - first, middle and last, like it's all one word. She says it so matter-of-factly, just as I do when I'm hollering at her to not run into the parking lot or getting on to her for not obeying her daddy. So it's funny to remember how hard it was to decide on that name just three years ago.

We went round and round and round. We read through several baby books, vetoing each other’s every choice. We (okay, I) scoured the Social Security name database. And we took long and winding tours up and down our family trees, delighting in family names such as “Melvin,” “Mervin,” “Bubba” and “Junior.”

[Don’t tell me you don’t have a Bubba or a Junior. I don’t even believe it.]

See, I felt a lot of pressure for this naming business. As the owner of a name that rhymes with words like “scary” and “hairy,” I know the pain a name can bring a young person.

And then there’s the initials. You don’t want a child’s initials to spell something weird, either. Or be shortened to something awkward. Or . . . or . . . or . . .

So I was a little stressed.

But then. Then! I had an idea. And I loved it. But ohhhh, I was so nervous. I was afraid Mark wouldn’t like it, and then we’d be back where we started.

We were sitting in a restaurant, and I tentatively said, “I have an idea.” Then I wrote it on a napkin and slid it across the table.

Like I was offering him a raise.

He asked me how I thought it would be pronounced, I told him, and he agreed. It was a done deal.

Right. Okay, so there was still much debate and worry and consideration. But that was the name we went with: Annalyn.

I wanted a name that was not common but not weird, and if possible, I wanted to honor our family at the same time.

No small task, but I think we met all those goals.

My great-aunt’s name was Anna, and I’m named after her (with my middle name). Mark’s mom’s name was Marilyn, and while I didn’t like that name for a child, I was excited to use the “lyn” part with “Anna.”

The good news is – besides loving the name we finally settled on for our daughter – that thanks to all our research and discussion, we actually have both a girl’s name and a boy’s name picked out for a future second child.

If you have children, how did you pick out their names? If not, how did your parents pick out your name?

This post will be linked to Kelly’s Show Us Your Life.

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A picnic on the living room floor

As I may have mentioned before, I don't always feel like cooking dinner. Especially when Annalyn is in one of her "Pick me up, Mommy! Up! I want up!" moods. And that's...pretty much every night I try to cook dinner.

So one night a few weeks ago, I decided to do something different. We drove through McDonald's ("Chicken nuggets! I want chicken nuggets!") and took the meal home.

I spread out a blanket and pulled our food out of the bags, and we had a picnic. Right there on the living room floor.

Annalyn didn't quite understand what "picnic" meant. She kept pointing to various things - fries, bags, feet - and asking, "This a picnic? This a picnic, Mommy?"

But she understood that we were doing something different. Something fun. Something special for just the two of us.

How do you make the ordinary special?

This post will be linked to Tuesdays Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky.

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Perspective on a Monday

I have not had a good week, you all. It seems that every aspect of my life - work, home, parenting, marriage, finances, blogging - is overwhelming, discouraging, frustrating or all of the above!

But instead of dwelling on all that (because, believe me, it's boring), I'm going to share the view I had last week as I left Cedar Falls, Iowa. I'd just been blessed to spend the afternoon with two amazing women, two blog friends who are real friends, and this is what I drove into for about 45 minutes.

I love it when rays come through the clouds like that. When I was a kid, I thought it was God pouring His love down on us.

Okay . . . I still think that.

A couple weeks ago, I was having a rotten morning. As I rushed down the hall of Annalyn's daycare, I barely glanced at the mom and son in the foyer. But as I walked back out, cringing at the screams I could still hear coming from my child's mouth (how much do I just love that separation anxiety comes and goes more than once?), that mom said, "Have a great day!"

I looked over at her, sitting there beside her son and smiling. And I remembered that I really don't have that much to complain about. See, she was sitting with her son, like she does every morning, waiting for the bus that takes him to his preschool. She sits next to him, and he sits in his wheelchair.

My daughter gets 60 minutes of physical therapy once a week. And she takes it upon herself to exert her strong-willed personality every single day by yelling, screaming, hitting, pulling and running away.

But that little boy? Can't do any of those things, despite therapy services much more extensive than Annalyn's. And yet, there's his mom, every morning: smiling and laughing and, I imagine, thankful for what she has.

It's good to have perspective, isn't it?

Has anything put life into perspective for you lately?

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On the other hand, I've got hitting the snooze button DOWN.

Yesterday did not start out well. After going to sleep more than two hours late (Thank you, Daylight Savings.), Annalyn woke up 45 minutes early.

[Side note question: Can anyone explain that phenomenon? At what age do we develop the skill of sleeping in to recover from late nights?]

So the early start turned into yelling (me) and frantic showering (me again.) and frustration over yet another chaotic morning (um, yeah, me.). Then, because I like to use stress as a reason to make poor food choices (feel free to turn away now, Losing It friends), I buzzed through the McDonald’s drive-thru on the way to take Annalyn to daycare.

This not only started my morning with 14 points under my belt (Thank you, dollar menu.), but also prompted my already cranky daughter to cry because I didn’t get her any fries.

The nerve!

It should come as no surprise, then, that I had a little – shall we say – incident in the daycare parking lot.

See, the thing is, those spots in that lot are really stinking small. And though I didn’t see it in the handbook, I’ve realized in the last three weeks that all daycare parents are required to drive SUVs or vans.

Anyway, back to my morning from, well, anyway. I found a spot and squeezed my wannabe-SUV into it. As I turned off the car, I was a tiny bit proud that I’d overcome the small spaces and SUV that was three inches over the line and a tiny bit annoyed that other people don’t know how to park.

And then I walked around to the other side of my car to get Annalyn out of her carseat. Juggling a package of diapers (Thank you, potty training FAIL.), her hat and gloves, and a sippy cup of milk, I looked up and realized that a) in my effort to maneuver around the SUV on my left, I had totally swerved into the spot of the SUV on my right, and b) the owner of that SUV on the right was standing on the sidewalk, admiring looking at my parking job in disbelief.

By that point, I’d already gotten Annalyn out of her seat. So I did the only thing I could think of and said, “Can you go stand by that lady, baby girl?”

Of course, even my small child couldn’t fit between my badly parked car and the badly parked car next to it. So we had to walk all the way around the car, stack all of our stuff on the sidewalk and say reassuringly, “Mommy will be right back. [I’m so sorry.] Just stand right here, okay? [Thanks. I do know how to park. I was trying to avoid that, oh, I’ll just move the car.] One second, baby!”

I’d like to say that’s where the humiliation ended, with me leaving my 2-year-old daughter with a stranger and backing out of a parking space.

But no. Then I had to turn a simple task – move from one parking space to another – into a 9-point turning ordeal. The other spaces were tight, too, okay? And it’s not as easy as it sounds to back up your car and re-park directly behind the original space.

[I wish I was as creative as my friend, Erin, and could provide you with a diagram at this point. I just know it would clarify any questions you might have at this point.]

Finally after at least 32 minutes (or 3.2 minutes, I’m not sure), I pulled my car safely into another space, gathered my daughter and all our stuff, apologize AGAIN to the lady who was not quite as friendly and forgiving as I’d have preferred, dropped off my kiddo, and left.

Ready to start my day. Or something.

Oh, and if you were wondering about my whole getting up early plan? Yeah. Not so much. Don’t get me wrong! It’s still a plan. And I still want to do it. But I haven’t. Not in several days.

Annnnnd this whole story JUST MIGHT be the perfect example of why I should start my mornings earlier.

I love it when I teach myself a lesson.

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Who wants a worm, anyway?

 

Image by chefranden

I’m trying to become an early bird.

A few weeks ago, I decided that I really need to start getting up earlier. Of course, I make this decision about once a month, so it isn’t quite a dramatic statement as it seems.

But this time I actually prayed about it. I asked God to help me get up earlier. And you know what happened the next morning? A certain two-year-old woke up a good 40 minutes earlier than normal!

And she’s been doing that for the past several days, waking up and hollering, “Get me out, Mommy!” until I pull myself out of bed and join the land of the living.

Now that Annalyn’s going to daycare, we’re going to have to make this a regular thing, this getting up before the last minute, this rising before the sun, this not hitting snooze half a dozen times.

It’ll be good for me. Right? Staying up late and sleeping in is overrated, right? (Not that 7 a.m. is sleeping in. Because it’s not.)

Yes, I think I’m convinced. Getting up early will be good. As a matter of fact, I thought of 10 benefits of getting up early, and I’m linking up to OhAmanda’s Top Ten Tuesday (which is hosted at Mandi’s It’s Come 2 This today).

1. I can finally, once and for all, for real this time read my Bible every morning.
2. I could change a load of laundry. And maybe, after a bunch of early mornings in a row, my hamper might be empty for at least 10 minutes.
3. I can empty the dishwasher before breakfast. So I can actually sit down with Annalyn at dinnertime.
4. If I get up before the sun, it’s possible I might actually snap a picture of it coming up. (I said it’s possible, not probable. Quit laughing.)
5. Once I get tired of oatmeal (my Weight Watchers breakfast strategy), I’ll have time to scrambled an egg and nuke some turkey sausage.
6. If I’m really feeling good (and Annalyn’s not awake and wanting to play blocks, watch a movie or play with her clubhouse), I could work out. Water aerobics class is over for now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t pop in a Walk Away the Pounds, Shred or even Tae-Bo video.
7. I can wear my needs-to-be-ironed shirts. The ones that have been crammed in the back of my closet for months because I never have time to iron.
8. I can make coffee for Mark and wake him up nicely – as in, without shouting, “Come on! You’ve got to get up now! I’m going to be late!”
9. I can actually dry my hair and go to work looking like a grown-up.
10. I can breathe. Instead of spending the first hour of my day in a panic, I can spend that time with purpose.

Are you an early bird? If not, what could you accomplish if you got up a few minutes early?

Also, for inspiration to wake up earlier, you should check out Kat’s new blog, Inspired to Action.

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Whiplash

Friday will be Annalyn's last day with her babysitter, and on Monday, she'll start full-time daycare.I'm really excited for her. And sad. And nervous. And feeling a little bit like I've got whiplash.

Emotional whiplash.

Every time I think about it, I feel differently. I know we've made the right choice and that this is best for Annalyn and for our family.

But she's been going to this babysitter for two years. Two years! For two years, it's been her second home. Her second family.

And even though she's going to learn so much and make new friends and get consistent physical therapy at her new daycare, I know she'll miss her friends. We both will.

I feel this back and forth about almost every decision I make regarding Annalyn. Should we potty train now or later? Use Pull-Ups or only big-girl panties? Call the doctor about her runny nose or wait it out? Move her to a twin bed or keep her in her crib as long as possible?

Even when I know (KNOW!) the right answer, my heart still wavers. And it's been like this from the beginning. You know what I'm talking about, right? Bottle or breastfeed? Disposable or cloth diapers? Stay at home or work?

Sometimes - like, for me, the working question - we don't really have an option. But when we do? Ugh. Being a mom, being the grown up - it's hard!

Have you struggled with any big decisions lately (parenting-related or not)?

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Random Readings, 1.23.10

You all, I am FRIED. My bad mood just got worse and worse today. My morning started with Annalyn waking up an hour early, then moved quickly into news that a client had blasted me for a small mistake that I’d already apologized for and offered to fix by emailing my bosses about it. And then I ended the evening by backing into a truck when leaving my friends’ house after what had been an otherwise lovely visit.

So. These links are about as random as can be, and I don’t even think I can offer you much explanation. Please just know I’ve been collecting them all week, and for various reasons, I think you need to know about each and every item. Enjoy.

• Shelly began a series about intentional parenting, and I can’t wait to read her insights. She’s a wise lady who is raising teenaged girls, and since I know I’ll be there sooner than I think, I am trying to soak up as much of her knowledge as I can!
• Have I mentioned I love Chuck, the TV show? Yeah, just a few million times. Well, it turns out that the actor who plays Chuck is a Christian. I love that.
• Matthew Paul Turner, an author, blogger and husband of a fellow (in)courage writer, spent the last week in Uganda with World Vision. Read about his journey in Uganda Week.
• Shaun Groves is amazing. The work he does – and the passion with which he does it – for Compassion blows me away. And he’s doing it again, bigger than ever. Stay tuned for more info about the benefit he’s planning for Haiti.
• What do you do when you see homeless people? I always feel weird and end up doing . . . nothing. Jenn has a great solution and detailed instructions: Keep care packages for homeless people in your car, including items like toothbrushes, hand warmers, water bottle and more.
• Did you read the Babysitters Club books back in the day? Apparently, they’ve been out of print for a while, but they’re coming back and there’s a prequel. I might have to read that!
• If you’re a blogger and you’re not reading Savvy Blogging, check it out now. These ladies are offering up honest, realistic and so very relevant advice, and everyone who wants to improve their blog should be reading every word. I know I am. 
• And I'm over at (in)courage today, talking about a time (not the only time, believe you me) I got in trouble for rolling my eyes. You don't want to miss this one.
  

That’s all folks. Have a good weekend!

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Tea party time

Last Sunday, we skipped church. And we stayed in our pajamas all day long. I could say that I regret it, especially in case my choir director reads this. But you know what? After three weeks of Christmas chaos, we needed a day to just BE.

We spent the entire day playing tea party and kitchen with Annalyn. It took hours for the plastic steak to turn into a hamburger that turned into a jelly sandwich, but we were up for the challenge. And that steak/hamburger/sandwich needed lots more sauce, and we practiced stacking up beans and corn and chicken legs.

It was important. And I'm glad we didn't miss it. Even for church. For more small, important moments, visit Chatting at the Sky for Tuesdays Unwrapped.

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Can we get a translator over here?

The other day my manager was talking about how her 4-year-old daughter only has a couple words that she mispronounces, and she's sad to see those cute, funny words disappear.

As she said it, I thought to myself, "Well, I won't ever know what that's like, because Annalyn's vocabulary skills are so advanced that she really doesn't mispronounce most things. That girl can enunciate!"

I even believed what I was thinking.

Then I started listening for mispronunciations. I'm sure you're not as surprised as I am that I noticed a few. Okay, a lot.

And they are Super Cute. Here are a few, used in sentences for your ease of understanding:

• Lie-vray - "Where do we get Elmo videos, Annalyn?" "The lie-vray! Pincess moovie! Pink pincess movie!" (We're temporarily over Elmo these days.)
  
• PQ - "Where did Annalyn go?" "PQ!!" "Oh, peekaboo! There you are!"
  
• broccoli - "Bockolee and panties! Mommy's tummy! Hahaha!"
  
• gunnel bar - "Do you want cheerios for breakfast?" "No! Want gunnel bahr!" (In other words, she wants Mommy's Fiber One granola bar. The kind with chocolate chips. The ones Mommy rations and considers the perfect snack. Those.)
  
• hamma - "Mommy want a hamma?" "A what?" "Hamma!" "Um, okay?" (It turns out she was saying "hamburger" and referring to the fake plastic steaks that came with her fake food set.)
  
• fah-pah- "Daddy watch fah-pah." Lots and lots of fah-pah. Good thing the Superbowl is almost here. You know, so we can move on to baseball. Or, um, base-bah?
  
• eemo - "Send eemo. Send eemo to Kyle." Annalyn calls my manager Kyle (which is not her name, but it's close). And one morning I had to send her an e-mail from home. Ever since, Annalyn likes to pretend that she's sending "Kyle" e-mails from her computer.
• pooter - I almost forgot. "Computer" is actually "pooter."
  
• CDO - "Watch CDO, Mommy! See baby! Watch CDO!" No, no, she's not referring to a strange and confusing Phil Collins song. She's confusing the many forms of media we have in our house - CD plus DVD plus video plus uploaded video of herself on Youtube (what she was actually referring to) equals "CDO."
• Slinky bankie - "No! Don't want slinky bankie in here!" Annalyn has a really soft pink blanket. And she has an unexplained love/hate relationship with it. Some nights, she can't go to sleep without it. Other nights, she can't go to sleep if it's anywhere in sight. Most nights it's folded up in the closet.
  

I have to admit, I'm glad she has all these cute little words. I've told her several times - although, clearly, not enough - to stop growing up and to Stay Little!

This post of ten words I realized (learned) Annalyn mispronounces in her super cute way will be linked to OhAmanda's Top Ten Tuesday and Musings of a Housewife's What I Learned This Week.

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My 2010 New Year's Resolutions

Image by katehra

It’s that time of year again, isn’t it? In the past week, I’ve read post after post about New Year’s resolutions. So of course I’m going to join the party.

Would you be surprised to know that I have a two-page typed document with my goals listed out with various strategies and tactics for achieving each one? Right. No. I know.

Don’t worry. I know your eyes are still bleeding from yesterday’s crazy long post. So I’ll keep this short and sweet. Here are my goals for 2010:

1. Read the Bible all the way through. I’ve never done this, so I finally did what I’ve said I should for the past couple of years: I bought a One Year Bible. Granted, it’s now the 8th and I’ve just gotten started. But I have gotten started.
2. Obtain and maintain a healthy weight. I started a water aerobics class on Monday, and I’m still a member of Weight Watchers. This is the year I will get healthy.
3. Improve our finances: live within a budget, save more and pay off some debt. I’ve already increased the amount automatically deposited to savings each month, and I’ve allocated extra paychecks to pay for car maintenance, gifts and vacation. Now it’s a matter of sticking to my revised monthly budget and figuring out how to pay for birthdays and Christmas.
4. Go on monthly dates with Mark. I’ve got most months mapped out. I’ve already bought concert tickets for April, and we’re hoping to take a trip to Chicago in May. Most months will be smaller affairs, though, like a movie or a trip to Target. You know how I love both of those outings!
5. Roll with the punches in our life with a toddler. In other words, potty training, moving to a big girl bed, working on our bedtime routine and possibly starting piano lessons. Yikes, that’s a lot of big stuff!

I’d also like to take a photography class, increase my blog traffic by providing better content and community, start a cooking club with my girlfriends, read some good books, stay fairly caught up on my scrapbooking and get a new job. But I’m not putting those on the main list. Short and sweet, remember?

Now, what about you? Have you blogged about your New Year’s resolutions and/or 2010 goals? I’d love to read it, so link up below!

If you aren’t going to blog about it, I hope you’ll still share your goals in the comments!



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Watch out for that snowman!

This month, Annalyn has come up with some of the cutest toddler-isms. From singing "Jingle Bees" (Jingle Bells) to insisting that Santa Claus's sleigh is pulled by donkeys, she certainly has her own spin on the season.

On Saturday, we had plans to visit with friends who were in town. Since we hadn't seen them in a year, we weren't about to let a little thing like A FOOT OF SNOW get in our way.

As we pushed our SUV-wannabe car up the very steep hill to our friends' parents' house, skidding and sliding, I said to Annalyn, "We're stuck on the snow!"

To which she replied, "Yeah. Stuck on the snowman."

Somehow, that little phrase morphed in her little head until, later that day on the way to my brother-in-law's house, Annalyn told Mark: "Snowman gonna get us."

Mark said, "Oh yeah? What are you going to do if the snowman gets us?"

"Knock it down!"

She had it all figured out, I guess. Just like she figured out that the Fisher Price Laugh 'N Learn Playhouse she got from Santa Claus is actually Mickey Mouse's Clubhouse!

Considering that, Santa found her Playhouse on Craig's List and should such a thing as Mickey's Clubhouse actually exist, I'm quite confident Santa couldn't actually afford it, I'm not about to tell her she's wrong.

Have your kids (or students or nieces and nephews or, well, you get the point) come up with any holiday-isms?

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Four Days

Four days to spend with family.
Four days that Mark didn't have to go to work.
Four days that I didn't have to go to work.
Four days to play with my baby.
Four days to eat ridiculous amounts of delicious food.
Four days to make lists, scan flyers, map out stores and hit sales.
Four days to spend half our Christmas budget.
Four days to get coughed and sneezed on.
Four days to catch a cold. (Annalyn, not me.)
Four days to fill up my purse with post-its, receipts, tissues and wrappers.
Four days to clean the house and mess it up again.
Four days to read one book and watch three movies.
Four days to laugh and cry and love and fight and plan and remember.
Four days to celebrate Thanksgiving.

How was your Thanksgiving weekend?

P.S. If you missed it yesterday, I was at (in)courage, talking about my list of hard questions. And in case you're not quite ready to return to the real world just yet, don't miss my favorite (fictional) Thanksgiving scenes.

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The library brings sunny days and sweeps the clouds away

Can I just tell you that I am unable to count to 12 – in English or French, not that the francais comes up often, except maybe it does – without doing it Sesame Street style? Anyone else?

I know, I know. Sesame Street had its big birthday party two weeks ago. Google and the rest of the world shouted their congratulations and wished the kids show well, and it’s all over and done with.

Right?

Except . . . I want to talk about it today.

Being late to the party is fitting, though, because our family has just recently gotten hooked on the friendly neighborhood. Of course, Mark and I are long-time fans, first-time callers of all kinds of Muppets. (Although, to be fair, more me than Mark.) But Annalyn is a newcomer to the Street of Sesame.

More specifically, it’s only been in the past couple of months that we have seen the start of a beautiful relationship between Annalyn and – I’m sure you can guess – Elmo. Sometimes we even pray for Elmo before bed. That’s how much “we” love him.

Actually, I don’t hate Elmo yet. He might have that crazy voice and ridiculous grammar, but that happy-go-lucky guy makes my daughter so happy that I just can’t complain.

The reason she’s just recently discovered Sesame Street is that for most of her life, she took a morning nap. And it coincided, unfortunately, with the daily airing of the show on PBS.

[That didn’t stop me from saying, every time I saw that our friends Amy and Jeremy did this for their kids, “I should record episodes so Annalyn can watch them any time she wants!” Not that I did it. But I totally thought about it.]

Since live TV isn’t working out for us and I couldn’t get it together enough to set the VCR, I finally had a better idea. We get our Elmo and Sesame Street fix from the library.

So far, the biggest hits have been Elmo’s Christmas Countdown (with a Ben Stiller Muppet – brilliant!) and Elmo & the Bookaneers with Tina Fey as a pirate. And yesterday we picked up Sesame Street: Being Green with Paul Rudd, also forever known as Josh from Clueless. Next on the reserve list: straight-up Muppets.

To sum it all up: Sesame Street has just celebrated their 40th anniversary, we love Elmo at our house, and checking out Elmo videos from the library works for me.

Do you watch Sesame Street at your house? What’s your favorite Sesame Street memory or story?