The Mommy Writer

Wee Little Changes, another of my favorite online stores for Cloth Diapers

2010-02-24T13:00:00.003-05:00

Recently I decided to switch to a different detergent for my diapers as the Tide was hanging out in my diapers and creating a real stink. I wanted to try Rockin' Green but really wanted to find a place with free shipping. I already had lots of stores I loved shopping at with low or even free shipping, but none came close to free shipping on laundry detergent because it's just so heavy. And that's when I found a great new store called Wee Little Changes. April, the owner, has been amazing. She shipped my order out on a holiday Monday and I got it by Wednesday! And the shipping was truly free! A lot of other places are charging an extra $4.95 handling fee, but not Wee Little Changes! So check them out! They even have an amazing rewards program. Here's a link to the page: http://www.weelittlechanges.com/

Abby's Lane on FB

2010-02-23T13:50:00.003-05:00

Since having Ian nine months ago, and even before that honestly, I've been obsessing over cloth diapers! They're just too cute to pass up and oh so easy on the baby's bum. Here's some pictures of Ian in his adorable cloth. I mean, how cute is he??

One of my favorite stores- and believe me I have a whole bunch- is Abby's Lane. She has lightening fast shipping, great customer service, a good selection, and nice prices. You can even become a fan on Facebook for bonus giveaways and information. Plus, for a coupon code you can use anytime, you can subscribe to her newsletter on her store's main page here: www.abbyslane.com And this is her facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Abbys-Lane/192201479212?ref=nf So become a fan!

It's been awhile since I posted!

2009-08-18T14:30:00.004-04:00

Last time on The Young and the Dramatic (cue soap opera music), Lily ate a crayon and learned that they "taste yucky," Lukas made rude jokes about the neighbors and farts, and Andrew said my haircut "looked weird."

So what is this strange cast of characters up to now? Let's tune in and see.

Shaun and I were discussing the latest (of many) sinkhole along the highway at dinner. We couldn't believe yet another had cropped up. How many would we get before our whole town sank into one big sinkhole?

"What's a sinkhole?" Andrew (9) asked.

I looked at him, shocked that, living where we do, he didn't know what a sinkhole was. They were all around us. How could he not know?

Apparently I wasn't the only surprised member of our family. Lukas looked at him like he was an idiot.

"You don't know what a sinkhole is?" Lukas (6) asked. He still had that "you're so dumb" look about him.

Andrew shook his head, looking between me, Shaun, and Lukas, waiting for an answer.

I was about to give him one when Lukas said impatiently, "You know the hole in the sink? A sink hole?"

Shaun and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. Andrew joined in, though I wonder if part of him thought Lukas was right.

"What?" Lukas said.

"That's not the kind of sinkhole we're talking about, buddy," Shaun said.

"We're talking about the kind that makes the ground soft and creates a hole," I added.

"Oh," Lukas said.

Poor Lukas.

And what about Lily? What has she been doing? She (and her brothers) has a new baby brother, Ian, whom I plan to use as my excuse for not keeping up with my blog. He's three months old now and she thinks he is wonderful.

It was bathtime for Ian. I filled his tub with warm water and laid him gently inside. The moment his buns hit the water and he saw the looks on Lukas and Lily's faces, he burst out laughing. Lukas and Lily joined in. I couldn't resist, I did it too. Soon all four of us were laughing. Lukas ran for Andrew, who was more interested in his video game than the laughing, so he didn't come up.

"Can I wash his belly?" Lily asked.

I nodded. "If you want."

"I want to wash his feet," Lukas said.

"No! I want to do his piggies too!" Lily whined.

"I asked first!" Lukas argued.

"Enough," I said and smiled at Ian whose lower lip stuck out too far. He was going to cry if they kept it up.

The arguing stopped, the bath continued. It was time to get Ian out of the tub. He hated this part. As I wrapped him in his towel, he burst into tears, crying loudly. Lukas took that as his cue to leave, but Lily stayed.

"My baby is so cute," she said over his cries.

Cute indeed.

And that reminds of something else that happened with Lily over the last year. It involves her beloved Bubba the lion. He's got significantly less hair than he started with.

Plop.

"Mommy!" Lily cried, panic in her voice.

I woke up, my heart pounding. What time was it? Did I just hear Lily? It wasn't even 6:30am according to the alarm clock. Too early for her to be out of bed right now, though I knew she was.

"Mommy!" she yelled again. This time I heard tears in her voice.

I jumped from the bed and ran to the bathroom, where I found Lily standing in front of the toilet looking down at a soggy Bubba. I grabbed him and looked at Lily.

"What is Bubba doing in the potty?" I asked, not fully awake.

"He fell," she said. Her lower lip pushed out and quivered. Her hands were going toward her mouth. She was going to cry. It would be nearly impossible to calm her if that happened since Bubba was involved. The two were nearly inseparable.

I looked at Bubba, now dripping, suspended above the toilet between two of my fingers. "Bubba," I scolded. "Why did you try to go swimming in the potty?"

It was just the right thing to say, for once. It's hit or miss with Lily, honestly. She laughed and joined in. "Yeah, why'd you try to swim in the potty?"

I smiled at her. "We're going to have to give Bubba a bath now."

"Can I push the buttons?" she asked, excited.

I nodded and motioned for her to follow me to the basement where the washer and dryer awaited Bubba. When he was inside and spinning, Lily pressed her nose against the window. "Have a good bath, Bubba!"

Can I Get Up?

2008-12-03T14:25:00.001-05:00

“Mommy! Where are you?” Lily sang from her bed.

Please be after 7:00am, I thought to myself, eyes still closed. The time change had messed everyone up. After spending the entire summer in daylight savings time, everybody was finally sleeping to a decent time in the morning. 7:30am.

“Mommy! Where are you?” she sang again.

I opened my eyes and groaned. Only 6:30am. The boys’ bedroom door opened and two elephants emerged, racing for the bathroom.

“Andrew,” Lukas whispered loudly. “I really have to go. Bad!”

“Me too,” Andrew hissed back.

They were boys. Why couldn’t they go at the same time? Why did it have to be the same fight every morning?

“Mommy!” Lily said angrily. “Where are you?”

I got out of bed and went to her door. I opened it a crack and the angry look on Lily’s face melted away.

“Mommy! It’s time to get up!” she said cheerily.

I shook my head. We had a rule in this house-no one gets up before 7:00am. It seemed crazy to fight for the rule right now but I was gonna do it. “Not yet, sweetie. It’s still night time. Let’s go potty and then get back in bed.”

Lily got out of bed and followed me to the bathroom where the boys had finally worked out their own bathroom issues. “Back to bed, guys. It’s not 7:00am yet.”

They stomped back to their bedroom and closed the door with very little audible argument.

“I want to lay with you,” Lily said sweetly as she sat on the toilet.

I nodded, not in the mood to argue much more. It was too early. “You can lay with me.”

She finished in the bathroom and followed me to my bed where she promptly laid in the warm spot I’d left behind just moments ago. I sighed.

“Where’s Daddy?” she asked.

I got in bed next to her. “Scootch over. He’s at work, darling.”

She moved over. “I want to lay in my bed.”

“Then lay in your bed.”

She got out of the bed and ran back to her room, only to return moments later. “Look what I found!”

I opened my eyes and looked to the end of the bed. She was holding a Halloween card in her hand. “That’s very nice, but you need to get back in bed, remember?”

She ran back to her room and I heard the slight squeak of her bed as she lay down again. The house was silent for the next two minutes.

“Mommy?” Lily called. “Can I get up yet?”

“No!” I called back. “It’s not 7:00am yet!”

“Oh,” she said.

Silence.

“Mommy?” Lily called again. “I can’t find my guys!”

“You don’t need your guys, you’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“But I can’t find them.”

“Lily, go back to sleep.”

I looked at the clock. 6:53am. Was this really worth it? Why was I doing this? But I was already in it and I had to come out the winner. What message would I be sending if I gave in now? Besides, my bed was warm and the house was cold.

“Can I get up yet?” she called again.

I sighed. Why did I continue to answer her? Wasn’t that just as bad? “No.” There. One word. Simple. What could she say in response to such a short answer?

“I’m hungry.”

I looked at the clock again. 6:59am. Almost there. This was ridiculous.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

The boys’ bedroom door opened again and they emerged. “It’s 7:00am!” Andrew said proudly.

I looked at my own clock again. They were right.

“Can I get up now?” Lily called again.

I sighed and went to her room. “You can get up now.”

“Yay!” she said and ran past me, down the stairs. “I want Yoo-hoo.”

Another day had begun on my mothering adventure.

The Witch Next Door

2008-10-16T15:49:00.004-04:00

As Halloween approaches, my children's imaginations grow. It probably doesn't help that all our neighbors seem to be-excuse the pun-in the spirit and decorate their porches with all sorts of strange things. One has a skeleton bride and groom on their porch while another has a life-sized coffin in their yard complete with skeleton bones. Another neighbor has headstones and a giant, blow-up pumpkin covered in spiders and webs in their yard.

"That pumpkin is mad," Lily says every time we arrive home.

"I wonder what it's so mad about," Lukas says.

Today when we got home, another neighbor had a woman visiting him. She was dressed all in black with a black hat atop her head. They were sitting outside together on the porch talking and laughing.

I parked the car and turned it off as Lukas said, "Look! He has a witch on his porch!"

I glanced at Lukas in the rear view mirror before turning to face him. "Don't say that when we get out of the van."

"Why?" he asked innocently.

"You'll hurt her feelings." I opened the door and got out, pressing the button to open the kids' door as I did.

Just as Lukas, Andrew, and I stepped outside, the woman on the porch let out a loud laugh. Actually, it sounded more like a cackle.

Crayons are not for eating!

2008-09-15T11:20:00.004-04:00

“Mommy, it’s yucky,” two-year-old Lily said on her way upstairs.

I looked up at her from the computer, located at the top of the stairs. She was holding her hands out open wide and her mouth was partially open as well.

“What did you eat?” I asked, not certain I really wanted to know.

“A color,” she said matter-of-factly.

“A what?” I said in disbelief. I stood up and moved closer to examine the inside of her mouth. And there, on her teeth, was the purple evidence I needed to confirm her story. She had indeed eaten a crayon.

“Lukas!” I called. “Do you see a crayon down there that Lily might have eaten?”

I pulled her along into the bathroom as I awaited his response.

“No!” he called. And then a pause. “I mean, yes!”

I rinsed her hands in the water and started brushing her teeth as his elephant foot steps sounded on the steps. Moments later, he was at my side holding the crayon in question.

I mumbled a thank you, handed Lily a Sponge Bob cup to rinse with, and took the offered crayon from his hands. There were little girl sized teeth marks all over it.

“Crayons are not for eating,” I told Lily.

She nodded and returned my solemn gaze. “Colors aren’t for eating,” she repeated. “They’re yucky.”

Santa likes ice cream??

2008-08-29T10:32:00.004-04:00

A few weeks ago, I did two things. I joined Absolute Write at http://www.absolutewrite.com/ and I went to the local ice cream place with my family.

At Absolute Write, I joined a blog chain and it's my turn. You can see the one before me here: http://www.southasiafair.com/2008/08/spam-mails-are-the-funniest/ about spam and the one after me here: http://returnengagement.blogspot.com/ Everyone's been writing about "funny events and things" for the chain, so I came up with this. If you're a regular reader of my blog, then you know I normally only write about things that my kids have done. This time is no different.

"Who wants ice cream?" I asked my children.

"Me!" Andrew and Lukas said in unison.

"Me!" Lily said, delayed. I smiled at her. She always wanted to be like her brothers. She pushed her hair out of her face again and ran for her stroller.

Outside, Shaun and I walked together with Lily in one stroller, our neighbor girl Brenna in another, and the boys on their bikes in front of us. The walk was short and pleasant and we arrived at the ice cream shop in no time.

Inside, we went through the usual chaos of attempting to get an order from everyone. Andrew and Lukas wanted stuffed snowballs (italian ice with ice cream, very good), Brenna wanted a cone with sprinkles, and Lily wanted her usual mixed in a dish with sprinkles and a cherry. As Shaun moved to the counter to order, Andrew pointed outside.

"Look! It's Santa Claus!" he cried. He looked at Lukas who started to giggle.

"Yeah! It's Santa!" Lukas agreed.

Lily and Brenna joined in the giggling. It was getting louder and louder in the small room and "Santa" was approaching the front door. I didn't want him to hear what was going on inside. He'd be insulted.

"Shh! Boys! Stop it!" I hissed.

"Ho ho ho!" Andrew said, ignoring me.

"I didn't know Santa liked ice cream!" Lukas shouted and burst out laughing again. He and Andrew fell to the floor in a fit of laughter.

"Boys! Enough!" I said louder. "Santa's" hand was on the door. The man couldn't hear this. I was getting desperate.

Shaun walked over with ice cream for the boys and frowned. "Enough guys. Eat your ice cream."

That's all it took. One look from Shaun and instructions to stop and they were sitting at the table as though nothing ever happened. I sat down too and breathed a sigh of relief as "Santa" walked through the door with "Mrs. Claus." She didn't look the way anyone expected. She was quite thin and wore no red.

Lily chose that moment to break into song. "Santa, Santa, Santa," she sang loudly.

The boys laughed again, ice cream dripping from their chins. Brenna joined in the song too.

"Santa, Santa, Santa," they sang laughing.

"Santa" didn't turn around. He didn't stay long either.

"Girls," I whispered. "Stop, that's not nice."

After a little more persuasion and a lot of ice cream, the girls did stop but the damage was done. "Santa" had already heard the song. Hopefully, he was used to it and understood. I felt terrible but there would be no apology. The man disappeared too fast.

Who knew that Santa liked to eat ice cream in the summer?

Rainbows

2008-08-11T15:18:00.004-04:00

Last Wednesday was beautiful. The sun was shining and bright in the sky, the kids played out back with their toys.

And then it rained. Hard. For ten minutes. I'm not joking. It only rained for a couple of minutes, but it was enough.

When the sun started peeking out from behind the clouds again, the combination of light and water created the most complete rainbow I'd ever seen. It was big and long, deep and bright, and the most magnificent reminder of God's existence.

Fart Jokes

2008-08-11T15:02:00.000-04:00

We make jokes about farts in our house far too often. Lukas will run to his father, who lays unaware on the couch watching the Olympics, and leave a loud fart. He giggles as Shaun pushes him off yelling, “Aw, Lukas! Why would you do that?” Though he yells, Shaun also tries to hide his own look of amusement at the situation.

Last night, another fart joke was made. This one was completely inappropriate for stranger’s ears and so I said, “None of you are to repeat that outside of this house.”

Eight-year-old Andrew got a confused look on his face and very smartly said, “Who do you think would be dumb enough to repeat that?”

Shaun and I smiled at each other and each pointed to one of the two boys. Lily sat on my lap at the time and took in all that was happening. After Andrew showed a proper amount of shock at the accusation, Lily pointed her little finger at ME!

“Who are you pointing at?” I asked her, surprised.

Maybe the youngest among us is also the smartest among us.

My haircut

2008-04-30T20:59:00.002-04:00

I got my haircut today for the first time in two years. No seriously. It's not an exaggeration at all. My last haircut took place when Lily was just six weeks old-March 11, 2006.

The entire thing was exciting. I'd been growing my hair for two years in the hope that I would be able to donate it to Locks of Love. But when it got unmanageable and didn't seem to be growing any more, I decided it was time to give up on that dream. So imagine my surprise when my hairdresser told me I had enough! I had ten inches! I immediately told her I wanted to donate it. I couldn't believe it. One of my dreams was coming true!

When she finished cutting and styling, I couldn't believe how light it was, or how good it looked. I went to my mom's to pick up the kids (since Shaun was working late) and my kids just looked at me.

"What do you think?" I asked.

Nobody answered.

I kneeled down to my daughter and asked her. "What do you think of Mommy's hair? Do you like it?"

"I like my hair," Lily said and touched her own head. Not exactly the response I was expecting or hoping for.

When we got outside, I asked again. I was sure they were just distracted. That was why they didn't answer me. "What do you think of my haircut?" I asked Andrew.

Andrew studied it and made a face. "It looks weird."

"What?" I said, hurt.

"You don't look like our Mommy anymore," he said and crawled in the van. "I thought Daddy liked long hair."

"Yeah, you're not our mommy," Lukas chimed in.

I shook my head, not believing my ears. What would Shaun think?

I worried on the drive home, sure he would hate it too. But I'd done it for a good cause. I wanted a child to have my hair. It was important to me.

When I walked in the house moments later, I faced him waiting for the comments. "So what do you think?"

"That looks nice," he said. "I really like it."

I breathed a sigh of relief. He liked it. Someone liked my haircut. Not just someone. The only man whose opinion mattered to me. One more quote from him, "You're beautiful."

Is it Broken?

2008-04-28T19:38:00.001-04:00

At my house, when things get crazy, my husband and I ask each other if “you can hear the circus music.” I heard it loud and clear tonight.

I was making dinner. Aren’t I always? Not spaghetti this time, I swear. It was chicken. Anyway, I was making dinner when my oldest son came downstairs screaming like he’d been stabbed or something.

“Can you stop screaming like that?” I said over his noise.

“I can’t!” Andrew wailed.

I continued cutting my asparagus. “What happened?”

The sobbing continued, so I looked up. His nose was a pale shade of purple and swelling, but there was no blood.

“Oh my…” I said, my eyes growing larger. “What happened?”

He covered his nose again and took deep breaths, trying to get enough control to tell his tale. “I accidentally hit Lukas and he cried, so I told him he could hit me back to make him feel better, and he kicked me in the nose!”

“Why did you that?” I cried, rushing to the freezer for an ice pack. “I can’t believe he kicked you!”

I steered my crying child out to the living room and ordered him to lie on the couch with his ice pack while I investigated the rest of the story. Do you hear the circus music people? It’s getting louder.

I went on to yell at Lukas and order him to his bed as he cried about his side and then asked my neighbor to examine Andrew’s nose, since Shaun wasn’t home. Meanwhile, Lily was not only stealing money (her new favorite past time), but she was also sucking on it. Gross. The circus music grew louder once more.

My neighbor studied the nose, which was going back to its normal size (plus Andrew had stopped crying and was rather reasonable by this time) and it was decided that it was not broken. We thanked him and went back in the house. It was getting quieter again. The drama was past.

April Fools

2008-04-02T13:35:00.002-04:00

My oldest son played his first April Fool's trick on me yesterday. I had just woken up for the day and was checking my email (as I try to do every morning), when he came up to me giggling with his younger brother.

"Shh!" I said to them, not wanting Andrew and Lukas to wake up Lily, who was still sleeping in her room. Unusual, I thought, for a two-year-old.

Still giggling, Andrew said to me, "Mommy, come with me. Lily got out of bed by herself last night."

I looked at him funny, confused in my sleepy stupor and unaware that it was indeed April Fool's Day. "What are you talking about?"

I stood up and followed my sons who still giggled and gestured largely that I should follow them. They led me to their room and Andrew pointed at his bed. "See?"

On his bed, lay one of Lily's baby dolls. I smiled and shook my head at him.

"April Fool's!" he said, jumping in place.

It seems that my son isn't the only one who played April Fools jokes on people yesterday, however. It seems that Writer Beware blog author, Ann Crispin did the same yesterday, telling her readers that she was selected to write a novel for a popular Disney movie and was about to get pulled from the project. Most of her faithful readers knew she was joking when she mentioned a publishing house that doesn't exactly love her. Others reacted as though the news might actually be true and berated her. How sad. Apparently, humor is dying a slow death. Check it out on her blog if you want by clicking the Writer Beware link to the right.

Would you like Play-doh with that?

2008-03-28T07:54:00.002-04:00

What is it about my meatballs that brings out the weird in my children?

Last night, I was making spaghetti again, just as I did a couple of weeks ago, when I heard a disturbing question. My five-year-old’s voice rang out through the house.

“You didn’t just eat that, did you Lily (actually it sounded more like Wiwy than Lily)?” Lukas asked in disgust.

I paused mid-stir of the pasta and looked toward the living room. I could see nothing of the two of them, but I knew something was amiss. I had to ask. I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know, but as her mother and caregiver, I had to ask.

“What did she eat Lukas?” I called to the living room.

I heard the tell-tale sound of Lukas running to the kitchen to share something big, some huge news that only he is privy to. When he arrived in the kitchen, his eyes were wide and gigantic. He wore a look of shock on his face. His hands gestured wildly and in his sweet little-boy voice he said, “Lily just ate the play-doh!”

I bit my lip trying to not to smile at his slight overreaction over the play-doh. “I guess that’s why it’s nontoxic,” I muttered to myself. Then louder, “Don’t worry about it, Buddy. It won’t hurt her.”

Soon Lily was toddling in to join the fun in the kitchen. She had a disgusted look on her face and she was attempting to swallow the last bit of purple play-doh she’d shoved in her mouth on a whim.

“That didn’t taste very good, did it?” I said to her, knowing the answer. Looking down at her, my mind flashed to images of my younger brother, CB, who also ate play-doh as a child. Though he did it regularly and for shock-value I think.

All in all, an interesting evening.

Candy Caper

2008-03-27T13:18:00.002-04:00

The living room was a silver sea of foil candy wrappers. In mere moments, my angelic cherubs transformed my somewhat hospitable home into a trash can. Again.

I looked at each of them in their usual movie-watching positions on opposite couches. Two-year-old Lily lay relaxed on the loveseat, little feet crossed at the ankles, right middle fingers planted firmly between her lips, and Bubba the lion’s tail in her left hand by her side. She rubbed it absently. “Did you do this?” I asked, gesturing to the room at large. While normally my most vocal child, she only blinked in response and didn’t even attempt to remove her fingers from her mouth.

I turned my gaze to my older child, Lukas, who lay on the larger of the two couches holding his own smaller lion and looking eerily green like a sickly “land lubber” on a rocky ship. He’d been sick with the stomach flu all day and, while I thought it unlikely that he would get up, I still had to ask. “Did you give her these?”

He shook his head slowly, obviously not wanting to upset whatever balance his stomach had managed to find.

“So she got them herself?” I asked in disbelief. He nodded and lifted his lion’s butt to his face. Sniff. Sniff.

I looked back at Lily. Blink. Blink. I was going to get nothing from her. I sighed and stalked from the room. Along my path to the kitchen I found several more wrappers carelessly strewn about. Two more were by the doorway to the dining room. Another was shredded by the kitchen. It was definitely Lily’s style. I picked them up and continued on.

In the kitchen, the candy dish was still high up on the counter top. No stools or elevation devices of any kind were found. I pushed the dish further back for good measure. The candy wrappers remained a mystery and so, I decided to drop it while I made dinner.

Soon, water was boiling for pasta and spaghetti sauce with homemade meatballs was warming on the stove. The air smelled of baking garlic bread from the oven and delicious tomato sauce. Presumably smelling her dinner, Lily toddled into the kitchen, still sucking her fingers, still holding Bubba, whose nice full mane was looking less full…and less nice. He had several bald spots, in fact. Not only on his head, but on his tail as well. Is there a hair club for lions?

“I hold you,” my daughter whined at my feet, interrupting my thoughts. She held her arms up and bounced a little in place, hoping that would get her dire message across.

I stirred the sauce not wanting the meatballs to burn and stick on the bottom of the pot. “I’m making dinner, Sweetie. Not now.”

“I hold you,” she said again.

“I’ll hold you later,” I replied, preparing to say the same thing in varying forms for the next ten minutes.

Surprisingly though, she gave up quickly. I moved to the other side of the kitchen and got out plates to set the table. On my way out, I watched my daughter stand on her tippy-toes by the candy dish that I thought was out of her reach. She was much taller now than I remembered. She stretched her arm up, put her hand in the bowl, moved her fingers over all the candies, then plucked one from inside and ran from the room. The candy wrapper was strewn about her on her path to the living room. The mystery was solved. Now my only question was, how many of those did she eat today?