You'we my bobo.

 

Ever since Pike was a little guy, one of our favorite books has been Hug, by Jez Alborough. There aren't many words to the book. Actually, only 3: hug, mommy and bobo. But that's part of what makes it so special. I narrate the story for him. It is about a little monkey who needs a hug. "Bobo" is a nickname that I have given Pike. No one else calls him that, only me. Today as we were on our way to the grocery store, just me and him, he said, "mommy, you'we my bobo." That made my day. Because to me, that means: I'm his match. I'm his mommy. He loves me. We have a special bond. He's my Bobo.

 He finds a mommy elephant and a baby elephant and they set out to help him find his mommy so that he can have a hug from his mommy.

 He cries for a hug as he's seen a mommy giraffe, lioness, hippo, snake and lizard all with their children playing and hugging but still hasn't found his mommy for his hug.

 Then his mommy shouts with excitement, "Bobo!" and runs toward him with open arms.

 The baby monkey runs to his mommy shouting, "mommy!"

 And they finally hug.

"Everybody loves each other! Everybody's hugging!"

Dude-isms

When Pike is dancing around, as though he CLEARLY has to go potty:
Me: "Pike, do you have to go potty?"
Pike: "No. Me just wocking out."

When Pike's eyes are slowly blinking in the back seat of the car:
Me: "Pike, are you sleepy?"
Pike: "Me not sweepy. Me just chiwin' wike a biwain"

When Pike farts:
Pike: "Me just tooted out my buns!"

An hour after breakfast, as though he's starving:
Pike: "What me can have!?"
Me: "A banana or some cheese?"
Pike: "Me not want banana, me want oange."

Every other second of the day:
Pike: "Play with me, mom?"
To which my response varies. 

marshmallow world in the winter

On December 18th we woke up to snow. A few inches even. Secretly I kind of hoped it would melt by daylight because I knew that if it didn't melt by daylight, I would have some kids wanting to go play in it. Playing in it is fun and good, it's the getting dressed to play in it, getting undressed after playing in it and the laundry that made wish it be gone. But alas, it didn't melt and I couldn't tell my kids they couldn't go out in it.

So, at 8 o'clock in the morning, I pulled down the box of winter gear. I dressed all of the kids in layers. I wrapped Jovie's cast. I dumped the dust out of the snow boots.

Pike insisted on wearing his favorite pants, the Superman pants I made for his Halloween costume. He had to wear girls' hand-me-down snow boots. And he picked out his hat of choice from the box. Jovie managed to get dressed in snow gear over her cast and I carried her out in the snow. Pear found her winter clothes and dressed herself with little help.

Once the kids were situated in the backyard, I came back inside to watch from the warmth of our home with Crew. I am so glad that the snow didn't melt. If it had melted, our morning would have been a typical morning. But instead, the kids made memories. They played in the snow and will now dream of the next time they get to play in the snow. Why do I worry about how much work life is at times. Why don't I just roll with it and enjoy?

Broken bones.

On Saturday, December 1st, I took Crew along with me and left Stephen with the three older munchkins. I was doing Christmas Shopping at Toys R Us when I received the call. It was one of those calls that you wished you'd never received. It went something like this: "I think you need to come home as soon as possible. Jovie fell backwards on the chair and she's crying more than a usual cry. I'm not sure if she's really hurt or just really tired. I need you to come and evaluate."

I rushed to the checkout and purchased the baby doll stroller, the Legos and balls, (all to be tucked under the tree,) and got out of that toy store immediately. I went home as fast as I could with my mind racing, hoping she was okay. Hoping that she was just tired and didn't handle the fall well. I was hoping I could get home and comfort her and all would be well.

I came home and when her eyes met mine, emotions overtook and though she was calmed before, the tears began to flow again. When I asked where it hurt, she would say her foot or point to her ankle and then she'd say her leg. I was confused. There was barely any bruising to her foot. Her ankle had a little swelling but I didn't see anything on the leg.

Stephen called and spoke to a nurse at Urgent Care and they advised us that if it were a break, we would see bruising and swelling. She suggested we wait it out a day or two assuming it's a sprain. So we did. Day three and she still couldn't walk or put any pressure on it, we decided to go in for x-rays.

The verdict was in. Jovie had not one but two breaks.One on the Tibia, another on the Fibula. And she would need a cast, a full leg cast. This was Tuesday afternoon. They couldn't put a cast on until Thursday afternoon! My poor girl. She barely whined. She was brave and a trooper through it all. And Thursday came and she picked out a bright pink cast.

Three weeks passed and she had to have the cast removed for new x-rays and a new cast put on. I think this was the most traumatizing part of the whole experience thus far. I didn't know what to expect with the cast removal process and the doctor didn't take the time to explain and my poor Jovie sat there and watched as he pulled out a saw and advised "this might be a little loud." She clenched onto me for dear life and the terrifying screams began. She screamed asking me to make it stop until he was done. I just held her tight and tried to explain that it wasn't going to touch her and that if it did, it wouldn't hurt her and she'd be fine.

Here we are almost 4 weeks into the cast. Since December 1st, Jovie hasn't been able to walk. For the first week, she wouldn't even scoot around. At times she would ask me to move her and I'd be preoccupied taking Pike potty or tending to Crew and I'd forget and the sweet girl wouldn't even holler or remind me. I'd find her sitting in a room by herself waiting. Now she is the fastest scooter around. I still have to take her potty and lift her to and from chairs. We haven't been able to go hardly anywhere for the past month. I have to carry Crew. I have to carry Jovie. Pike requires supervision. And Pear can manage herself pretty well but isn't of much help yet when on the go. We only have two weeks left! I can't wait for her to be able to run and dance again. This experience has definitely made me appreciate her heart and attitude. Sure, she has her moments, but let me tell you, this girl is a trooper.

I wuff you much.

Lately Pike has been giving me hugs followed by saying "I wuff you much." Or sometimes he'll say "I wuff you special." This makes me so happy. My big dude, all boy, too tough to try on a girls hat or play dolls but certainly not too tough to tell me he loves me.

He is a big boy and is pretty much potty trained. (I say this and yet he had 3 poopy accidents today!) He just doesn't want to go on the potty. It is more a matter of me paying attention to him. If I notice he has to go, he'll go on the potty but when I'm not paying attention, he'd rather do the big potty in his pants.

Pike is talking a lot and it is so much fun hearing what he has to say. For the past two weeks we have been discussing costumes for Halloween. Pike is convinced he wants to be a ladybug. He must not know that a ladybug is a girly costume because if he did, he wouldn't want to have anything to do with it. At the dinner table last night, Stephen asked him what he wanted to be, he put his finger to his face as if thinking and then randomly said, "a fish!" I am trying really hard to convince him to be Superman. We will see!

Sincerely, Me.

When you think about people you enjoy being around, what is a trait you admire? When I go through my list, a trait that always comes up is being genuine and sincere. I like "real" people. I like people that aren't afraid of telling me they had a bad day. That life is tough. And that they blew it, (with whatever because we all know we blow it sometimes.)

This is a trait that I have to work on possessing. I feel like I have always been a goody two shoes. I'm not meaning to boast; I don't take pride in this fact. I was never that rebellious child. And I guess my life just seems good. But I am not perfect and I make many mistakes and as great as my life is, it's a mess! But that goody two shoes in me always wants to put on a mask and pretend like I have the perfect life.  That my house is always clean. I spend plenty of time with my kids. I never yell. I certainly never act out of anger. I cook a full meal every night. I read a dozen books a day to the kids. We clean their rooms before bed every night. I am madly in love and have no relational problems. What more could I ask for?

This. Is. Not. True. In attempt to be sincere and real, let me tell you some of the things I struggle with. I had a container of disinfectant wipes sitting on my bathroom counter for 3 weeks. It only took me 15 minutes to scrub the surfaces with them and I honestly don't have an excuse why it took me 3 weeks other than I used my time when Crew was occupied to browse Facebook instead of scrub my bathroom counters. I close my bedroom door every time guests come over because it is EMBARRASSINGLY messy. Not just a few clothes on the floor- a disaster.

I hate the fact that I do get angry and act out of anger towards my kids far too many times. In fact, I called Pike a turd bucket yesterday. I then had to tell him that he isn't a turd bucket (I don't even think he knows what it is but he knew by my tone that it wasn't a compliment.) and ask him to forgive me. And that's not the worst I've done, just the most recent.

We do love books but lately I have just been too tired and lazy. It takes too much effort and I have found myself letting my kids entertain themselves. Sure, they can do that. But are they feeling loved? Am I cherishing my children? I don't know.

Over the past month, I have only cooked a handful of times. I am not superwoman.We eat at Taco Time a lot occasionally. Tonight I could hardly walk in Pike's room. The girls' room is a disaster and I have about 8 loads of laundry to fold.

Stephen and I know that we love each other. Deep down we do. But to be honest, it is hard. We haven't been on a date without a baby for 6 months. And we haven't been on a date WITH a baby in 6 weeks. When Stephen gets off work these days, one of us cooks dinner or we hop in the car and go out. Then one of us runs errands or goes to the store usually with 1 or 2 of the kids. Then I try to go to the gym to run a couple miles (gotta burn that baby fat...sad thing is, I also have to have that chilly goat!) Then we have about 30 minutes together before I start to fall asleep on the couch or Crew starts crying and needs fed. Crew is waking up every 2 hours through the night and Jovie and Pike are up at 5:30am.

I am a sinner. My life is a mess. Sometimes I don't know what to do. Sometimes I cry while pacing the floors with Crew trying to get him to sleep. I am not a perfect homemaker. I am not a perfect wife. And I am certainly not a perfect mom.

All for a Chilly Goat

Lately, my craving of the day is a Chilly Goat. It's a blended espresso beverage from Dancing Goats Espresso in downtown Olympia. Yum! Some days, it's that one thing I get for ME. Sometimes you have to have just a little something that makes you happy to get you through all of those tough moments throughout the day that might not be so happy or may be just difficult. Anyway, it's a treat and some days I go out of my way to get one. Like driving downtown before nap time so that I can enjoy it during nap time.

Last week, I thought I'd get one. I hauled all of the kids into the coffee shop. Stood in line...and just when it was my turn to order, Crew blew his diaper out. (WARNING: if you are disgusted by baby happenings such as this, read no further.) There I stood with Crew in my arms, Pear and Jovie dancing around as usual and Pike running back and forth to make the automatic doors open and close, and what did I notice? Mustard, dripping down my hand, through my keys (which were in said hand), onto the floor. Embarrassing- for me. I looked like the crazy woman I am with four kids, out of control. I then tried to nonchalantly tell the kids we are ready to go, trying to not make a big deal of the poo. And of course Jovie, my inquisitive one, says in her loudest little girl voice, "why mom? Why are we leaving already?! Why do we HAVE to go? You didn't get your coffee yet."

If you were a fly on the wall, this is what you would've heard me saying in about a 30 second period: "Really? You really had to do this Crew? Oh, great. Come on kids we have to go. I'll explain in a minute, Jovie. Come on Pike! You need to obey me. Stop touching that. Come on. Pear, honey, stop dancing come on, this way. Our car is this way, Buddy. Let's go! Jovie-Joves, look both ways. Do you see cars? Hold hands. Oh brother, what a disaster. All for a coffee!"

We made it to the car. I bathed Crew while the rest of the kids jumped throughout the car. Pike had the hazard lights on, the wipers turned up and the rear-view mirror adjusted. Thankfully I had a spare t-shirt in the car, (I'm not that organized mom, always prepared for catastrophe.) And we decided to do a take II. I got my chilly goat and headed home. By this time, Crew was tired and decided to cry the whole way home. Worth it? Maybe. It's the little things that keep me sane. Or maybe it's the little things I try to do that will lead me to insanity. Either way, I'm blessed, I'm loved and we've made it through another day.