I was feeding Sadie(3 mos) this morning and Aubrey(4) walked in the den, fresh out of the bed and yelled, “Fire the ho!!!” “What?” “FIRE THE HO!” She screamed again, this time sounding a whole lot like Yosemite Sam. “Fire in the hole, you mean???” “NO, FIRE THE HO!” She said, for the third time. I just shrugged and hoped she wasn’t talking about me.
The Shirt Off My Back
When I was a little girl and my mother would go out of town, or even out for the night, and I was really missing her, I would go in her closet and steal a nightgown to snuggle with. Being able to hold on to something of hers, something that smelled like her was so comforting. The only thing I can think of to this day that smells better than Rachel Wiley is my babies after bath time. And if my mom has been holding one of my babies and they get the Shuggie/baby combo going….I could sniff them until I pass out!
Emma (2) hasn’t been feeling well or sleeping well lately. A few nights ago she came in our bedroom in the middle of the night and wanted to crawl in the bed with us. If you have read ANYTHING about this child, you know that she is never still. This includes during sleep. So, in order for Zeb and I to get any sleep, she HAD to go back to her bed. She was crying for me as Zeb was picking her up to carry her to her room. I asked her if she wanted to sleep with my shirt and she quickly agreed. I snatched my shirt off and gave it to her and went back to sleep in my sports bra.
Nap time can be a big to do around here. Someone is usually protesting or picketing about having to go to sleep, so on a couple of occasions I have once again, ‘given her the shirt off of my back’, just to expedite the whole sleeping process.
Tonight, Emma who is still running a fever wanted to sleep in our bed. Zeb told her no but said he would lay down with her in her bed for a few minutes. After feeding Sadie (3 mos), I went in to the big girls room to give the baby to Zeb, so I could get in the shower. Aubrey(4) was crying because Daddy had snuggled with Emma but not with her, so I laid down with Aubrey for a few minutes to console her. As I passed out hugs and kisses and got ready to leave, Emma started raising a ruckus because I had laid down with Aubrey and not with her. GEEZ, can’t win for losing! So, once again, just to move things along, I asked Emma if she wanted my shirt.
Emma: Yeah, yeah, yeah….cober me up wit it Momma.
I did, my shirt covered her from head to toe.
Aubrey: Why you give that to her Momma??
Me: I don’t know, baby. She just likes it.
Aubrey: Wellllllllll, I like your pants.
I didn’t even hesitate or stop to think about it. I want a shower and I want to sleep. ASAP. I ripped my pajama pants off and threw them to her. The girls have totally dissolved into to giggles. I am now standing in between their 2 beds in nothing but my bra and panties.
Emma: Well, I wike you underwears Momma….
I LITERALLY fell in the floor I was laughing so hard!
Me: I don’t know who y’all think you are or what you’re playing at, but that is IT! I’m drawing the line! GOOD NIGHT!
I could still hear them laughing as I closed the door.
Stupid Cookie
The girls woke up as I was starting to watch Oprah today. I normally don’t watch “grown up” shows with my kids. Aubrey(4) recently started talking about Hannah Montana and I told her to forget about it, that was for grown ups and she would have to settle for Dora the Explorer for a few more years. WE are not ready for Miley! The following conversation took place after my kids saw approximately 60 seconds of the intro into Oprah.
Apparently Steve Harvey was on, promoting his new book, “Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man”, in which he explains to single women that they need to value themselves for a man to value them and I quote “stop giving ‘the cookie’ away…that’s just stupid.”
Emma(2): OOOOOOO, he said stupid. That not nice, Momma.
Me: (changing the channel)
Emma: Momma, why he say stupid? Why, Momma? Why? That not nice…
Me: (going to the kitchen to do laundry)
Aubrey: I fink… because… her giving the cookie away…huh, Momma? (nervous giggle) Maybe, or… maybe not.
I think avoidance is the best policy for this particular subject at this particular time, so I just kept on walking!!
Get Your Own
Miracle of miracles, EVERYONE in my house napped at the same time today. Sadie (3 mos) is no longer projectile vomiting, but Emma(2) has been running a fever so we skipped ballet class for Aubrey(4). I decided I would give Emma the luxury of sleeping until she woke up. My kids inherited their horrendous morning time disposition from me. So I understand when they wake and are grouchy or crying because someone is looking at them. I get it. I feel that way every morning.
Aubrey wakes up screaming and crying, wallowing in the floor, just generally actin‘ a fool. Ah, I think, she needs food. She screams something about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the midst of her writhing fit. I am ON it. Even though I have a headache, am dying of thirst, not wearing any pants (I was jerked out of the bed by Emma and not allowed to dress) AND I realize that all I’ve eaten all day was half a chicken salad sandwich. (On the heel, gross.) But my baby is hungry and she wants a sandwich, and all that other stuff can wait. My headache, water, pants, motrin….it’ll all be there after I make a quick PB & J. I am a mother, a martyr, I will sacrifice for my children.
I make the sandwich, generous with the jelly and cut into squares. Just the way my baby likes it. And even though I know she’ll only eat half, I make her a whole sandwich because to do otherwise would insinuate that she is “a baby.” Done.
Me: Here baby, here’s your sandwich.
Aubrey: Thanks Momma.
Me: Can I have one bite?
Aubrey: (Totally aggravated and annoyed with me…) Make your OWN sandwich.
AS IF she had just worked so hard to make that sandwich herself. The nerve of that child. Whatever, I’ll eat the other half once it ends up on the floor. At least I swept yesterday, that should cut down on miscellaneous debris that will get stuck to it when she drops it in the floor. I am after all, a mother, a martyr…I can sacrifice for my children.
It’s A Sister Thing
Sisters share a special bond. My sister is absolutely, hands down, my best friend in the whole ENTIRE world. She just gets me. If we are watching the same TV show at the same time, I can tell you from 3 states away when she is laughing or crying…because that’s what I’m doing too. We can laugh hysterically for no reason AT ALL. Seriously, we can look at each other and bust a gut laughing like a couple of idiots.
On occasion, our sweet, precious, wonderfully fabulous, rock star of a mother will be talking to us about something….anything (subject matter is truly irrelevant), and we will both simultaneously, spontaneously AND hysterically burst into laughter. Not pretty giggles. I’m talking snorting, snot bubbles, tears flowing, side splitting laughter.
Rachel’s response is always the same, “WHAT?”
“NOTHING!” We’ll scream in unison.
Which only adds to her theory that we are hiding something, and to our hysteria because we KNOW it’s nothing, and the fact the we both said it in stereo makes it funnier, somehow. Rachel usually sighs and leaves the room.
Zeb was out of town one night, so at bath time, I put Aubrey(4) and Emma(2) in our bathtub, and put Sadie(3 mos) in her stroller beside the shower. I turned the shower on and went into my bedroom to undress, I put all my clothes in the laundry hamper and walked back to the shower. As soon as I walked back in the bathroom, naked, my 2 year old and my 4 year old LOST IT. They started laughing like a couple of hyenas. I realize I’ve just had a baby, crying at the site of me naked I could understand…but laughing, this was NOT good for Mommy’s self esteem!
“WHAT? What is so funny?”
Oh, that just did it. They really lost it then, simultaneous, spontaneous AND hysterical laughter. (Here’s another a-ha moment for Mommy, Oprah would be SO proud.) I sighed as I realized how my mother has felt all these years, and got in the shower.