I'm not asleep... but that doesn't mean I'm awake.

The feeling of sleepiness when you are not in bed, and can't get there, is the meanest feeling in the world. ~Edgar Watson Howe

Whether it's late nights or light sleep interspersed with random periods of sleep and awakeness, there has not been one night in two weeks that I've managed a sound six to eight hours of sleep. The girls are waiting. The family is not complete and going to bed with such an important member of the family away, the girls have not slept well. My emotions have run the gamut of insomnia. Frustration, irritability, denial, ignoring the situation, humored by it, etc.  I am sympathetic to their main reason and after fifteen days of this ridiculousness, their various other reasons for not sleeping are laughable.

• They are hungry to the point of starvation.
• Their thirst is insatiable (which also has other ramifications).
• Yes, trips to the bathroom. With Caelan in the midst of potty-training, it's hard to decide when the potty trips should happen and when I'm totally being played. She may play me on occasion, but she always goes. And laughs.
• The sounds of little feet and giggles as they think they have gotten away with not staying in bed.
• The concern about monsters in the bedroom. Well, if you didn't sleep with Gollum, you would be fine.

What they tell me has to be the funniest:

• "Evelynn won't go to sleep."
• "Caelan won't be quiet."
• "Evelynn's not in bed." Neither are you, dear, if you are in here tattling on your sister. "But she's not in bed." That reasoning must work for her.
• "I'm cold. I need covers." Then cover up. Their arms are broke and they are incapable of pulling the covers up. Their covers are not on them because one of them slipped into the other's room and they are wrestling on the bed.
• "I'm trying to sleep." Then be quiet. "Mom, shhhhh, I'm trying to sleep." Then be quiet. "I can't sleep because you are talking, Mom."
• "Caelan took her pants off."
• "Chaucer won't stay on my bed." Wonder why?
• "Can I sleep in your bed?" You are in my bed. You are just not sleeping. "Oh, yeah."

JC Day, Minus the Heels and Pearls

    Days, days, days... a continuous flow of time that changes very little. Then there is a random day that is so completely sporadic and exceptional I feel like June Cleaver. Everything in place, children clean and happily playing without destructive bents. The deep sigh of housewife satisfaction. Today has been a June Cleaver Day. I can actually say there is an entire floor of my house that's clean from ceiling to floor. Of course, we're not talking about the floor of bedrooms, which is one reason I'm tempted to sleep on the couch. Ah, clean and fresh upholstery.
    Today also began my foray into canning. Hey, something has to be done with the tomatoes in the garden. I know for a fact, that the writer "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes" had a garden full of tomatoes. Our little garden has produced much more than we had even thought feasible. In the last week, I have picked three gallons of the small varieties that we have growing and I've picked twenty of the heirloom tomatoes that have the potential to become killer tomatoes. They are massive, some rivaling the size of Caelan's head. Before they became 'killer' I knew I had to can them. I have been queen of my kitchen today. It's been cleaned, the dishes have been done, and I've even baked cookies. Whoa. And my children are pleasant and strangely calm.
    The canning has gone well. I have succesfully canned four large jars of tomato sauce, like a spaghetti sauce. I am in my June Cleaver element. Then I recall a conversation I had with my Grandma a couple of days ago. This amazing woman, in the midst of telling her my great canning plans, tells me of her canning. I looked proudly at my four jars, in all their red, juicy, yummy goodness and my June Cleaver moment paled in comparison with my Grandma's abilities. In one day, this woman who is an amputee and had knee surgery on her only knee only eight months ago, told me that she had canned twenty jars of peach jelly and ten jars of plum jelly, the fruit from the trees of the homeplace. Burn. Forget June Cleaver. I want to achieve a Grandma day.

After much deep and profound brain things...

Well, to say that the last few days in the Brannon household were less than epic would be a complete fabrication caused by acute denial of the situations I've found myself in. I won't list them. It's exhaustive and-- exhausting. Ha, it's utter pandemonium. I hate days that are solely reactive, me on the offensive, and lasting12-15 hours. I would be the first one to say that there are no 'jobs' in the out-of-the-home workforce that have required what this one has since last Wednesday. We've had a few more 'movie' times than normal, but desperate times equal desperate measures. I have enjoyed movie time this week, for more reasons than should really be good, but oh, well, another few days of this and I think we might actually make it. I have found peace, calmness and laughter-- sheer inspiration-- from their movie choices. The characters are truly inspired and speak to me at this point in my life. I have felt to be in many of these same scenarios and might have said something similar to these characters. Mind you, I said similar. So in light of all the negatives of the last week, I choose to be encouraged by the following quotes, beginning with the title of this post, well-spoken by King Julian of Madagascar.

• Madagascar, King Julian:After much deep and profound brain things inside my head, I have decided to thank you for bringing peace to our home.
• Mort the Mouse Lemur: I like them, I like them! I liked them first! Before I even met them I liked them! As soon as I met them I liked them right away! You hate them compared to how much I like them!
  Julian: Oh shut up, you're so annoying!
• Alex the Lion: They should call it the San Di-lame-o Zoo. First they tell you, "Hey, we got this great open plan, where animals can run wild." Next thing you know, you have flowers in your hair, and everybody's hugging everybody.
• Mason the Chimpanzee: If you have any poo, fling it now.
• Marty the Zebra:Yeah! You don't see that on Animal Planet.
• Marty the Zebra: Aw a thermometer!Thanks!I love it Melman, I love it!
  Melman the Giraffe: I really wanted to give you a personal present. Do you know that was my first rectal thermometer?
• Alex the Lion: That is your side of the island, and this is our side of the island. That is the bad side, where you can skip and prance around like a magical pixie horse, and do whatever the heck you wanna do all day long. This is the good side, for those who love New York and care about getting back.That's not the fun side. THIS is the fun side! This is the fun side where we're gonna have a great time surviving until we go home! Whoo! I love this side; this side's the best! That side STINKS! You're on the JERSEY side of this cesspool!
• Melman the Giraffe: Augh! Underpants!
• Kung Fu Panda, Oogway: My friend, the panda will never fulfill his destiny, nor you yours until you let go of the illusion of control.
  Shifu: Illusion?
  Oogway: Yes.Look at this tree, Shifu: I cannot make it blossom when it suits me nor make it bear fruit before its time.
  Shifu: But there are things we *can* control: I can control when the fruit will fall, I can control where to plant the seed: that is no illusion, Master!
  Oogway: Ah, yes. But no matter what you do, that seed will grow to be a peach tree. You may wish for an apple or an orange, but you will get a peach.
  Shifu: But a peach cannot defeat Tai Lung!
  Oogway: Maybe it can, if you are willing to guide, to nurture it, to believe in it.
  Shifu: But how? How? I need your help, master.
  Oogway: No, you just need to believe. Promise me, Shifu, promise me you will believe.
• Tigress: It is said that the Dragon Warrior can go for months without eating, surviving on the dew of a single ginko leaf and the energy of the universe.
  Po: Then I guess my body doesn't know I'm the Dragon Warrior yet. It's gonna take a lot more than dew, and, uh, universe juice.
• Ice Age:1-3, Sid: I'm a single mother with 3 kids. I could use a little compassion.
• Sid:Come on, spit him out. If you don't spit out little Johnny right now, we're leaving the playground this instant! One... two... don't make me say three...
• Sid: Is this how you resolve conflicts? No wonder you're single.
  [Mamma Rex roars]
  Sid: oh, that's your answer to everything. I don't exactly call that communication. I say they're vegetarian, you say "grrr". I say can we talk about it, you say "grrr". That's not what I call communication.
  Mother T-Rex: GRRRRRR!
  Sid: See that's your answer to everything!
• Manfred: Diego (Caelan), spit that out. You don't know where it's been.
• Sid: [about the baby] I bet he's hungry.
  Manny: How 'bout some milk?
  Sid: Ooh, I'd love some!
  Diego: Not you. The baby.
  Sid: Well, I ain't exactly lactating right now, pal.
  Diego: You're a little low on the food chain to be mouthing off, aren't you?...
  Manny: Enough!
• Manfred: Hey, buddy, want a lift?
  Diego: No, thanks. I'm saving what little dignity I've got left.
  Sid: You're hanging out with us now, pal. Dignity has nothing to do with it.
• Traffic Vulture: Parents: Please do not leave your children unattended. All unattended children will be eaten.
• Manfred: Okay. Thanks to Sid, we're now traveling together, and, like it or not, we're gonna be one big, happy family. I'll be the daddy, Ellie will be the mommy, and Diego will be the uncle who eats the kids who get on my nerves.
• Sid: I'm gonna be the first one to jump off the Eviscerator, and then you guys are gonna have to start showing me some respect.
  Manfred: You jump off this, the only respect you're gonna get is respect for the dead.
  Diego: Come on, Manny. He's not that stupid.But I've been wrong before.

Day Two

    Life happens. It's fluid and the best way I've found in dealing with the daily occurrences is to go with it. Don't fight it. It is what it is. Yesterday felt like a battle ground. Today was no where near that. Yet here I sit, my two older children still awake, waiting for Daddy to get home. It doesn't matter if I've gently told them that won't be happening for a while. Sitting straight up in their dimly lit rooms, they are waiting. More than a year's worth of months has he been gone in the past and in all that time, they have never been affected as much as they are this time.
    This is only day two. The girls have been in bed (well, since the first time I tucked them in) for two hours. Caelan refuses to go to sleep. A pile of books lie beside her. I've read a few of them to her, but she's waiting on Daddy to read to her. Evelynn has her own pile of books. She didn't want to pray about Daddy tonight. I did it for her. Then she tells me, "Daddy will be home soon. Then he will hug me and kiss me. I saw him go away on the plane. I can't see it anymore. Can you see Daddy's plane? Is he coming back soon? I want to see him." I don't think I can go with the flow right now. "It is what it is" seems a dirty, discouraging phrase in the midst of my children aching for their Daddy.
    The lights are still on. Caelan has finally dropped off to sleep. Evelynn is still holding out. Her pile of books is growing and she has a picture of me and Keith in bed with her. I peek in on her every once in a while and sometimes the picture is on her chest. Life might be fluid, but the emotional needs are not.

Butt Paste

    For three days I have looked at the thick, chalky white smears gracing the pillows and cushions on my couch. I would love to do something about it now or even on Monday night when my children were inspired to impress me with their butt paste/couch art. I don't know why, but I cringe inwardly at the term 'butt paste.' I even had a hard time typing it into the title, but there have been a few of you begging for the story. So, butt paste. I've used Boudreaux's Butt Paste since I had Evelynn. (You're welcome, Boudreaux, for the brand plug.) It's smooth and thick and does a great job in healing little bottoms.

    Monday evening was busy, the kind that's running around like a chicken with its head cut off busy, and I know, I've seen plenty of chickens in that state. It ain't pretty. We got home from Williamsburg, VA around 6:30pm and Keith still had to pack for his world travels. He packed, but a few things still needed to be done-- like the laundry from the weekend so that he could take some of those items with him. I took over at that point and let him sit down with the girls to watch a movie. All of them on the couch together was so sweet to see. They were watching Harry Potter. Evelynn and Caelan sitting next to each other toward one end and Keith at the other with McKenna sitting on his chest. I could see the backs of their heads as I ran around getting things done.

    I finally chose to pick up some toys that were between the TV and the couch. The sweet, picturesque view I had in my mind was anything but. Keith is asleep. McKenna is in LaLa Land, and my two darling oldest children are still sitting next to each other, smeared with butt paste. Thickly smeared. The whole tube. I was immediately thankful that it was the small tube and not the vat of the stuff with the screw on lid. Just the tube. Two cushions and three pillows. Caelan's entire face and half her hair. If it weren't an off white color, the stuff would make a great hair gel. Her hair was sticking straight up on top. It's on her arms and legs, too. Apparently, she thought it was lotion. Once Evelynn saw that my reaction was not a good one, she immediately said, "Caelan did it." Which prompted the question, "Then why is it on your hands and arms?" She didn't really have an answer, but quickly volunteered to go wash off in the sink.

    Caelan was not so happy a little later. That stuff is murder to wash out of hair. Oh, yeah, and Keith woke up the moment he heard my "Are you crazy/I can't believe you did this" voice. He decided to make sure McKenna was okay. Smooth. Just like the butt paste across the couch. It's so thick, it doesn't wipe off. It smears even more. Fun. So there it has stayed. Why? Because ten minutes of fun will now cost me at least three hours of labor. The covers have to be removed and washed. As if the green marker geometric shapes weren't enough... they had to add the butt paste.

Day One

• Children up by 7:30am. "Where's Daddy?"
• Breakfast: "I want cereal." Done. "I changed my mind, I want soup." No soup, cereal only half eaten, Goldfish demolished while I search the house for dirty laundry.
• Weekend trip recovery: laundry, clean house. Plan is to start in living room. Then the kids have an impromptu tea party in the kitchen. I was not invited. Until the Kool-Aid was spilled all over the floor. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• I'm a top/down kind of cleaner. Start at the top, all debris falls to the floor which is the last to be cleaned. It efficiently takes care of the cobwebs and crumbs on the countertops and promises a fresh floor. Score: Mom, 1 point.
• Kids playing happy. Start laundry. Start on the kitchen. Cleaned and mopped. It's beautiful. I feel at peace. Score: Mom, 1 point.
• McKenna is ready for naptime. Sweet. Not so the other two. Lunchtime for them. "I don't like that kind of cheese. I don't want a sandwich." Too bad.
• Laundry is cycling through at an even keel. Definitely wait until later to put the clean clothes away.
• Phone call. A five minute conversation with Keith. All is well. Caelan paints the bathroom with purple foaming soap. All walls must now be cleaned from the bottom to about four feet up. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• Can't clean it now. Caelan is without any remnant of clothing. Laughing, she tells me "I pottied in the floor." Fantastic. Reclothe her and clean up the puddle. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• McKenna is awake. The stench coming from her room precedes opening the door. Diaper on the floor. Poop everywhere. Shower kid and strip bed. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• Sweet. Washer ready for bedding. Score: Mom, 1 point.
• "Mom! Caelan is eating all your gum!!" Gum on face, shirt and couch. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• Clean up gum. Send Caelan to bed. Score: Mom, 1 poi...... "What are you doing??" Caelan is naked again, trying to put on a swimsuit. Not in bed, obviously.
• Time for family meeting. Explain importance of helping mom while dad is gone. See a glimpse of acceptance in Evelynn's face. Caelan laughs and goes back to bed. She stays in bed for a while, but no nap. I let her get up after about thirty minutes. Score: Mom, 1 point.
• McKenna is hungry. Fed. Cycled laundry. Sit down and take a break. Score: Mom, 1 point.
• "Mom! I need your help!!" Caelan decided to #2 in the portapotty and then dump it into the big potty. #2 EVERYWHERE. Lord, I think you hate me. Score: Kids, 2 points.
• Recovery mode: bathroom with #2, more laundry, movie time? Absolutely. WW3 over what movie to watch. Evelynn sent to bed for disrepectful behavior. Much is desired of the oldest. Not fair, but she leads the way. I was the oldest. It's a bummer. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• Pick up living room. Pillows back on couch. Oh, the butt paste. Right. Not happening today. Score: Mom, 1/2 point.
• McKenna happily playing. Caelan watching a movie. Perfect! The bedding can go back on the crib. First, have a talk with Evelynn. I reached her heart. I saw it in her eyes. She can watch the movie now. Score: Mom, 4 points.
• Clean and remake McKenna's bed. Go back downstairs. There are three go-gurt tubes squirted in the living room floor. Caelan. Another talk. Supervise her cleaning it up. Remind myself that she's two and not only that she's my precocious middle child. Score: Kids, 1 point. Mom, 1 point.
• Walk into kitchen. Are you freakin' kidding me??? Count to ten. She's two and not only that she's my precocious middle child. Lo Mein all over the kitchen floor. New Plan: Be in same room at all times or sit on her. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• In same room, she sneaks Play-Doh. Not happening. Jumps from the coffee table to the couch. Not happening. How about we color? Rips Evelynn's paper and draws more on the couch. How about we dance? Turn music on. Makes her want to jump on the couch. Falls over the pillows and hits her face on the console record player. Score: Kids, 2 points.
• Dinnertime: Soup, the Princess variety. "All right!!" but then "I don't want it."
• Evelynn tells me, "Mom, I want to be your big helper. What can I do for you?" Score: Mom, 5 points.
• I take the trash out. Caelan meets me at the door, running and yelling "Daddy's home!" Remind myself that she's two, my precocious middle child and doesn't know how to deal with daddy being gone.
• Bedtime: Bundle my babies in their blankets and listen to their prayers. "Thank you for Mama and Daddy. Keep Daddy safe. Help me to listen to Mama and be her helper." All previous Mom and Kid scores are obsolete. The good Lord is in this home. Tomorrow is a new day.

The Joys of Being Home

“Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing is like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing.” - Phyllis Diller

    I think I appreciate this quote more because of my experiences living where it snows a lot more frequently and heavily than what I grew up with. The effort of shoveling snow or cleaning the house is something I consider at some times to be pointless. When it snows here, I always have a mental debate with myself, trying to decide at what point I should actually go out and shovel that white stuff. Wait until it's done snowing? Get a head start? Shovel a path now? Shovel the whole walk? It is definitely the same quandary I have over cleaning house with three little ones constantly in motion.
    We have taken quite a few trips this summer, and I've decided to just laugh at how my kids settle back into home. I try my hardest to leave a clean house. Toys put away, laundry done, floors clean, etc., but it never fails that once we get back home all that work will be completely undone in a matter of minutes. I'm not kidding. It's like Christmas and birthdays all wrapped up into one moment-- the moment they walk through the door. Toys, dressup, cars, clothes, bedding, it's like they've never seen them before and it's  all new and wonderful. At one point, I used to feel that my time cleaning was wasted. Now it's just funny. It is more joyful to see them excited to be home and enjoying the blessings of our home. It will be clean again. I'm just not sure when.

Caelan loves to take all the clothes out of the dress up bins and her dresser.

Oh, Barbie... why do you come with so much stuff?

One car for each of my cuties. Notice even the curtains at the window in the back have been tampered with. The couch has green marker and Boudreaux's Butt paste on it (another very good story).

And the floor is sticky.

The Dragon and the Frog responsible for the fun. ;)

Oh, and it appears that I need to finish painting. Hmmm, maybe after I get it all put back together?