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Showing posts from 2009
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Dog Treats?!
$2.99
I have never paid $2.99 more happily than I did this morning. I wouldn't paid twice that, three times that, actually.
My 4-yr-old has an ear infection, and that means we are giving her 2 tsp. of amoxicillin twice a day for the next TEN days. If you could see what the medicine-giving experience is like, you all would've brought me cash right then, knowing that I had exactly 18 more times to put myself and Lauren thru the nightmare of taking medicine.
For just $2.99, you can get your child's (or your) medicine flavored. Strawberry, bubble gum, grape, banana, whatever sounds good to you. This morning I found myself standing in line at Walgreens for the precious flavor magic after having suffered through three doses with Lauren without the benefit of it.
You would think I was forcing her to drink toxic substances (or my cooking) when it comes time for medicine. After coaxing, teasing, pleading, standing on my head, disciplining, bribing, crying, and danc…
Kid-free traveling and other sure fire ways to feel guilty...
This is it. I am on a plane. ALONE. I have read nearly 130 pages of my novel that is pure drivel designed to give my weary mind a break. I have sat comfortably in my window seat for nearly two hours without having to sing a song, make up a story, or play I Spy. I have not have to dig thru my purse for a magic way to entertain my children with nothing more than a safety pin and expired gift cards in my wallet. I have not had to give apologetic murmurs to the passengers around me because of the alternating crying and shrieking with delight emerging from my row. I am traveling as an independent, quietly content grown woman, perfectly able to sit still and mind my own business.
Everything is perfect. Everything, of course, except the small, nagging voice of mother guilt. There are lots of things about motherhood that are totally wonderful, totally amazing. But the thing is, with this wonderful job you give up your abil…
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Getting Dressed Is Hard to Do

At our house, there are a few things that are givens. I can count on these things just as confidently as I can count on the change of seasons.
The first given is that my children will have quite different reactions to the change of season wardrobe. My middle daughter will be on cloud nine, for this is an event she has waited for since the day after all her pants, long sleeved shirts, and jackets were packed away last year. There is something about clothing in a storage bin tucked away that makes them much more desirable than the appropriate season clothing folded neatly in your dresser drawers. She will dance and sing, twirling around as she holds her “new ” clothes against her with glee. She will try on every item and declare it beautiful, and I will sigh with relief that some items still actually fit.




The next given is that my oldest child will be quite appalled at the thought of parting with her summer clothes. You must understand this is the girl …

The Great Pumpkin Search

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The Great Pumpkin
I have a theory about the world of gambling. I think it originated in the mind of some young child observing his peers at a pumpkin patch.
A couple weeks ago Lauren and I accompanied Olivia on her class field trip to a nearby pumpkin patch. We were thrilled by the intrigue of the corn maze, cuddled with the oh so clean barn animals, and even listened to the story of how a pumpkin seed becomes a pumpkin.
But then, at long last, came the much anticipated moment, the hayride leading to the pumpkin patch. That magic land of orange, that field that holds the promise of the best, most jack-o-lantern worthy pumpkin ever seen. I could almost picture the casino lights and music as I helped my children climb up into the hay-filled tractor trailer.
The kindergarteners all watch with wide eyes as the pumpkin patch draws ever closer. They wring their hands nervously and tap their fingers on their knees, as if signaling the dealer that they want another card. Will this be …

Vacationing with Children

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Vacation. Relaxation. Rest. Serenity.
Those are the words my mind instantly conjures up when I hear my husband suggest I should tag along on his business trip to the beach with him for five days. I picture a sunny coast, comfy chair with a big umbrella, a “brain candy” kind of book, and sleep. Wonderful, uninterrupted sleep.
And then, as it always does, reality sets in and new words come to my mind.
Temper tantrums. Multiple bathroom stops. Crying. And then I stop thinking just about myself and wonder what my kids might be like.Vacation is something that, exactly like my previously flat tummy and skinny jeans, disappears into the mist at the moment your first child is born. Unless you are so fortunate as to have willing grandparents, you must face reality that your children will be accompanying you on any trips for at least the next 20 years.
That being said, vacation with your kids can be a wonderful experience. Filled with laughter and fun, the memories you will make will las…

Mommy Resumes

Occasionally I hear comments about how stay-at-home mothers are “wasting their intellectual abilities” or “eroding their critical thinking skills” by leaving the workplace. I watch these people on t.v., usually women, and as they adjust their trendy glasses with their perfectly manicured hands and push a freshly cut and styled hair back into place while putting me down, I have a few thoughts I’d like the chance to televise myself. I put down my teething child, step out of the maze of freshly folded clothes, and stand up on my coffee table to better proclaim to the t.v. my adamant positions.
I am not a proponent of gambling, but I know how to fix our great nation’s financial woes. Every stay-at-home mom in this country could hold a gigantic bet....let US come run the business world for a few days and YOU people step into our shoes to take a break from your high pressure jobs and power lunch breaks. After just one week, I guarantee mommies would emerge the victors in our little wage…

Superhuman Powers and Birthday Cakes

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I am a decisive, determined person. Once I decide something, that’s how it’s going to be. Period. My husband can tell you that I am slightly stubborn. If my mind’s made up, there’s no turning back. I am like the tree that withstands the tornado, the levee that does not break, the bird nesting outside your window that will not die.
Could someone please then explain to me why, on a regular basis, I cannot do something as simple as holding my ground when it comes to daily life with the three small little people who live in my home?
I am beginning to suspect that these darling daughters, these lights of my life, are more than meets the eye. I have been keeping notes of times when their charm overtakes me, and as if they have superhuman abilities, I find myself doing things I SWORE I would never do.
Case in point: birthday cakes. I HATE decorating cakes, and every year I swear that is the last time I’m going to do it. My resolve on this point cannot be swayed. I am in the zone,…

Motherbrain and Other Embarrassing Disorders

I recently had to make a visit to my eye doctor. I have the eyes of a 103-year-old in a 29-year-old (ok, ok, 31-year-old) body. The technicians literally gasp when they first see my prescription and I get the feeling they dread the “which is better, one or two?” game just as much as I do because I answer “blurry is blurry” for so many times they have to quit to take a smoke break.
But this is not my point. Because this was my first time to this particular office, I had to fill out the 1000-page medical and insurance forms before I could be seen. No problem, I thought, I won’t have the girls with me and will quickly and easily fill out any forms and answer any questions necessary. I am a college educated adult, after all.
Name, Sharon Webber. Male or female? Female. So far, so good, I think.
I breeze through the form asking for my address, maiden name, and medical history. No one asks me to take them to the bathroom. No one colors on my shoes with a sharpie. No one even lay…

Vocab. for Supermoms

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Vocabulary and I go way back. With a minor in literature and all the reading and writing assignments that came along with that, I have done my fair share of studying word meanings. But as a supermom, I have found that all my college training is basically crap. My new professors are my three daughters, and some days they are lenient and patient as they teach me new definitions, sometimes they are slave drivers giggling with glee as their mother fails miserably to get their drift. Below are a few of the terms I have learned as a supermom...
*back massage - when I lie down on the floor and let the girls take turns walking on my back *steam treatment - putting my face over a steaming pot of boiling potatoes during dinner prep *willpower - saying no after allowing my children to eat just 4 popsicles...each *adult conversat…

Adventures in Eating Out

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I'm telling you...feeding my family is a result of the Fall. I've already explained how cooking (and the grocery shopping necessary) is caused by sin in the world. Today I'd like to explore this line of thinking and how it plays out in the world of restaurants.
At my house, we have an understanding on Sunday mornings. I, Mommy, am supposed to go to church to worship Jesus. After dressing three children (two of whom argue with me about wardrobe choice and one who spits up on at least two outfits), enduring the hair brushing scene (which we may explore in a later blog), directing breakfast, and getting myself ready (why, yes, it WAS another ponytail kind of morning), I am already struggling mightily to have a heart ready to worship. If you add in being responsible for an edible meal when we return from church, Satan just won the battle that morning. Look out, here comes Mama on the rampage.
That being said, our only other option is to venture into the world of food ind…

A Rodent Problem

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Let's talk rodents. Actually, I have just one specific rodent in mind, a Mr. Chuck E. Cheeses. Just the mention of his name brings on chills and immediate dread in the hearts of parents. This rodent laughs in the face of Terminex, Cooks, even the less than legal methods some of us have been guilty of using in order to get rid of unwanted pests.
Lauren received a birthday invitation this week for a little girl in her class (and so far the only things I've heard about this child is that she cut a hole in her shirt with scissors and also that she scratched another child's face...so I'm already jumping at the chance to buy her a present). But alright, I suppose we could fit that into our Saturday. And then I see it. The location. And like a slow motion movie in my head, I'm already picturing the scene that will become my Saturday afternoon.
I will step into the purple and green themed party place known as Chuck E. Cheeses, have my hand stamped with a coordinatin…

Exercise with Kids and Other Myths

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Sanctification is defined as the process by which God makes you more like Him.
I propose that there are few activities in my life which sanctify me more than taking my 4-yr-old on a walk/bike ride in our neighborhood. For proof, I've added two pictures. This is the pre-walk picture....all smiles and enthusiasm, ready to have an adventure.
I do realize that life is about the journey, not the destination, and that's a good thing, because this if I were trying for any respectable distance it would end in disaster. But come on, I do like to try for more than two blocks. Block one is pure joy. Lauren spots a cat in a garage and stops to collect pine cones for her bike basket. Though she is slow ing my pace considerably, we are having fun and I am even halfway entertaining the notion that I just might get a very small cardiovascular workout.
One and a half blocks in it begins to rain. No big deal, everyone's still happy. Leighanne's looking around and trying to figur…

Grocery Shopping and Other Acts of Bravery

I am convinced that cooking is a product of the Fall of Man. Just think about it for a minute. I have to feed my family and the only way to do that is to spend an hour the night before making my menu and list, load up my troops, and try to act cheerful as I pull into the parking lot of one of the scariest places on earth to a mother of young children, the grocery store.
I build up my resolve that we WILL be in and out in an hour's time as I gather my things, and take a deep breath as we enter the land of flourescent lit hell.
After searching for the "right" buggy (my kids will only ride in the two-seater kind that I'm sure have resulted in multiple customer injuries because they are impossible to steer...I'm still nursing a bruised ankle from the last trip) and strapping the kids in, we are finally ready to get started. Everyone wants to be part of the action and excitement of choosing fruits and veggies from the produce section, so each child is given a pla…