She Did It

As a new mother, I couldn't wait for my children to progress enough developmentally that they could speak and to converse with one another. Then they started talking. And it seems that more often I want them to stop.The information flow from oldest to youngest is too quick and my cute little 'rainbows and unicorns' fantasy of children speaking pleasantly to me and to each other has disappeared in the wake of the "She did it" line.

It's only in complete silence that I know someone is doing something they should not (and unfortunately it's Caelan that is silent more often than the other two). Evelynn comes running with the "She did it" or "She's doing something bad"... which the whole tattling thing with Evelynn is difficult enough to deal with because Caelan's usually doing something that's hazardous to her well-being. Sigh. The moments of "She did it" have come too frequently in recent days (and will go away soon as long as I'm the Mama in this house) and I cringe every time I hear it.

But it has now become that 'phrase'... you know, the phrase that becomes your children's go-to in every situation. "She did it. She spilled the water." "She did it. She didn't flush." "She did it. She took all the toys out of her toy box." "She did it. She took all the pillows off the bed." "She did it. She took her clothes off." "She did it. She put her toy in the dog's water." "She did it. She ate the tomato." "She did it. She moved that book." "She did it. She colored in that coloring book." "She did it. She drew on the wall." "She did it. She put her plate in the sink." See? Half those things aren't necessarily 'bad', unless of course she were stripping down naked in a public place and definitely if she drew on the wall. It just all begins with the "She did it." Grrrr...

They say it so often now that today at lunch, McKenna dribbled her food on her hand and immediately said "She did it" and when I walked into the bedroom that seemed to contain pleasant children, one said "She did it" as if the only reason I was in the room was to discover the guilty one. Then it turned out that no one had done anything. Now they could say "She did it" because I naively wanted them to speak in the first place.

Drawings

Flowers, sunshine and rainbows appear on paper or magna doodles straight from the imaginations of Caelan and Evelynn. Hundreds of these drawings litter the house and are frequently gifted. This newfound joy in expressing themselves has been wonderful for a mother to see, even though the piles of paper come from important notebooks or pages from books (Caelan in both cases). I love the concept of a magna doodle, the screen holding enough space for one picture, then it can be erased. Definitely works to keep down the paper usage.

However, there are some pictures drawn on a magna doodle that I wish I could keep forever that had been drawn on paper. For instance, the picture Evelynn drew while I removed Caelan's broken bed from her room. Evelynn brought her magna doodle to me and said "This is a picture of you, Mom. You're mad because we broke the bed. See your face?" Another doodle of Evelynn's was a picture of Caelan. The stick-person-Caelan was in a circle with a line drawn diagonally across it. Evelynn, ever my observant child, said this was a picture for Caelan to know she was not to go into Evelynn's room. Ah, all the warning signs she has observed in recent weeks have paid off.

And then there are the drawings of our family. "This is Daddy. See right there, and we're all in the picture together." Why must all the pictures I want to keep end up on a magna doodle? Why am I surrounded by papers of rainbows, rainbow houses, princesses and unicorns? I've thought of taking photos of the magna doodle, but once the drawing has been shown off to me, it's immediately erased. Maybe I should encourage more paper usage.

Pregnancy and Olfactory

    Pregnancy is a curious thing and now that I'm on my fourth one, there are things about it that are just weird. This pregnancy I have a heightened sense of smell. Wonder Woman would kill for the sense of smell I have, but it's by no means a pleasant experience. I find myself grossly hindered from the most mundane of tasks... like cleaning and grocery shopping because of the odors that assault my olfactory senses. Some things smell strange or awful because they just do and normally shouldn't, or because they just do and should.
    Some instances are the fault of my children. Like Caelan spraying half a can of Lysol in the kitchen. I have yet to be in the kitchen longer than I can hold my breath. Other instances are no one's fault really. Seriously, how many people can walk down the cereal aisle in the grocery store and become physically ill because they smell the cardboard boxes of cereal? Not exactly anything you can blame but my nose. It's a little difficult to avoid that aisle when my children eat so much cereal.
    Another instance of overwhelming stench was completely my fault and one I've dealt with continually since arriving home two weeks ago. In April, I carefully planned my two month long absence from home, but somewhere in the planning failed to realize that there were potatoes and onions in the pantry cabinets. The day after we arrived home, we went for groceries. Evelynn helped me put them away and she opened a cabinet in the pantry, immediate revulsions followed... from both of us. Loud exclamations and severe gagging ensued as I gingerly removed the food items in the pantry to find the source, wearing rubber gloves of course. There on the side of one shelf was a bag of potatoes (small, white, new potatoes) putrified in an inch of their own decaying juices. Shudders of horror. For two weeks, I have not been able to rid the area of the smell. It has lessened quite a bit, but I still smell it. I refused to put any food back in the cabinet until a couple of days ago. I can't stand cluttered, covered counters, so it had been nagging at my inner peace of cleanliness. I had to see my the tops of my counters again.
    So today, I decided to put the food back in the pantry. I opened the cabinet opposite the one I have cleaned and disinfected repeatedly for two weeks. The stench in that cabinet nearly knocked me off my feet. A sweet potato and two onions. Fantastic. To just go on record, I don't know why these potatoes and onions were in found in these locations because it's not normally where I keep potatoes and onions. It's been a very unpleasant surprise. So, yet again, I'm cleaning out another cabinet and scrubbing down the shelves. And with minimal energy, these things are the only things getting done today. I'm not thrilled that my life is now run according to the sensitivity of my nose, but this too shall pass, yes?

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

    The last few days have been scorchers and I have had little motivation to get off the couch. I'm still in the first trimester, so the sickness that has gone with that and the ridiculous heat made me call for a movie day. BUT, we would be watching movies that I wanted to watch. If I couldn't get off the couch I was not going to sit there and watch their regulars... like Barbie movies, Clifford or the Backyardigans. Nope, we watched my favorite musicals. Yes, that's right. Musicals. Gigi, Singin' in the Rain and then today, it was Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. This last movie has been in the movie library for years, but the girls never got into much of it. I had a hard time convincing the girls that this was the movie of choice.

    Then I noticed that the castle on the DVD was Neuschwanstein. Ha! I showed it to Evelynn, and yes, we had to watch Chitty Chitty Bang Bang immediately. She was very excited to watch it then. Both Evelynn and Caelan were drawn into the movie, engrossed in every action. Once Neuschwanstein made an appearance, Evelynn excitedly told Caelan "I went there!". Now, unfortunately, it's been so long since I've seen this movie, that I had not realized how much of Neuschwanstein was utilized for the movie. Even some of the courtyard inside the main gate is used in the movie. My second surprise came a little later when Caractacus Potts (Dick Van Dyke) landed Chitty in the village of Vulgaria. It was strangely familiar and Evelynn told me we had been there, too. I didn't question her, but I couldn't tell where this footage had been taken. After a quick search, we have been there. It's Rothenberg ob der Tauber. Evelynn is ecstatic. There is so much footage of Neuschwanstein and Rothenberg in this movie that it has now become Evelynn's favorite movie. Oh, and FYI... Rothenberg is not near Neuschwanstein as portrayed in the movie. It is not the village that belongs with the castle like they would have you think.

Starting at about the 5:00 mark, the footage of Neuwchwanstein and Rothenberg ob der Tauber begins. There are quite a bit more of the area in the movie, but this is a glimpse.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UemArxy7soo&feature=related

 

Getting Outer and Outer

It's been a little interesting this go around of pregnancy. I've never had children old enough (or curious enough) to notice, and they have noticed a lot more than I thought. Here are their thoughts on the matter.

Caelan: Do you have a baby in your tummy right now? (Somehow she came to the conclusion that when I'm sick, the baby isn't in my tummy and when I feel better, the baby is there. Evelynn thinks the same. Maybe they had their own conversation about it.)

Evelynn: Is there a baby sack in your tummy? (I was surprised by this one and told her yes, actually, there was a baby sack called a 'uterus'. Now she says it all the time. If she volunteers this information, it's the only technical term she knows and she's still convinced that baby's are in mommy's tummies until the doctor gives the baby to the family. She has yet to ask how the doctor gets the baby, so don't worry if the 'uterus' conversation comes up.)

Caelan: If you're sick you can take medicine... you can take my medicine. (Her medicine being Tylenol. She's so thoughtful.)

Both girls check my tummy at some point every day, asking "Is there really a baby in there?"

Evelynn: You are getting outer and outer. There is a baby in there!

There are daily fights over what I'm having, boy or girl. Evelynn wants a 'brother... because we don't have one of those. All we have are two sisters.' Caelan secretly wants a brother as well, but she has never owned up to that in front of Evelynn. When she hears Evelynn say she wants a brother, Caelan immediately responds by saying she wants a sister. And then the fight breaks out.

Evelynn: "But McKenna is our baby. What will we do with another one?"

McKenna, of course, is oblivious.

Full Moon Antics

It seems every few months my children lose their minds and forget everything they've been taught. They have exceptional abilities to completely ruin a day or two and can only tell "I don't know" when I ask why. I've heard enough "I don't knows" in the last two days to question just about every bit of my parenting abilities. Tomorrow they will wake up and more than likely be back to normal, but I have to wonder if in fact they are howling at a full moon when they go nuts like they have yesterday and today. These two days have put a, well, fresh spin on childhood insanity. In other words, they have really outdone themselves.

When these days occur, I immediately consider their behavior a reflection of my parenting skills... which appear to be grossly lacking. It's like a cycle. We do well for a while, I think I'm on the right track, they go nuts, I go nuts, back to doing well, etc. I guess it's knowing that they will wake up tomorrow in their right minds that makes me even write this post. A lot of you will think what they have done today is quite hilarious. I, on the other hand, have been completely ashamed of this behavior, questioning my decision to have any of these children and to admit utter insanity in  producing another Brannon in the new year. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, hind sight 20-20) there's not much I can do about those decisions except trudge onward and upward. It is what it is. This, however, does not mean I didn't take the time to ball my eyes out this afternoon after sending them all to their rooms. I hit 'The Wall'... that place that's covered in tears and self-doubt, not seeing what's on the other side. I took a break. I have wonderful friends who rescued me. Now, with a somewhat clearer mind, I'm trying to figure out what the heck is wrong with my kids. These are things I've come up with in the last two days.
Q: Why is every toy, every book, every game they own covering the floors? A: I'm pretty sure it's because my children have not been at home for more than two months. It's like Christmas in a candy shop. They're still enjoying the fruits of the Easter Bunny (our travels began the week after Easter).
Q: Why do they not listen to me? A: Again, traveling has its downfall in that I've been separated from my children in spurts, they've been surrounded by doting family members they see once a year, and there was always another adult to back me up.
Q: Why does most of their mischief happen when I'm on the phone with my husband? A: Caelan has expressed her semi-anger in not finding Keith at home when we returned Tuesday night. The two youngest children have not seen him since the end of April. They even talked to him on the phone before this afternoon's mischief, he encouraging them to be nice and to help me out. Apparently it was reverse psychology day. Whatever is said the opposite must be acted upon. They did a smashing job of that.
Q: Why do my children have such 'bathroom' issues? A: Two days ago, I was thrilled with the prospect of having three children out of diapers before #4 made an appearance. Today it seems like I will have three maybe four in diapers if my children continue to regress.

Oh, and to give you the icing on the Mom's-gone-insane-and-hit-the-wall cake, I will tell you the one incident that completely tipped the scales to ruination. After all their conversations on the phone with Keith, I finished the call by heading upstairs to put the sheets back on McKenna's bed (think Piccasso art of #1 and #2...oh, yeah... that's how the day began). In those minutes, my children completely trashed the living room. Not even kidding. Game pieces from three different games, water on the coffee table (I assume it was water but since I never found the vessel the water could have been transported in, it's highly likely that the liquid came from the completely naked McKenna), pencils and crayons thrown about, stickers on furniture, wet wipes ripped out of the box, every toy strategically placed on all visible surfaces in the room, and smashed animal crackers in the rug. This was NOT the breaking point. Certainly it all needed to be dealt with but that's not what I saw at first. On the way back downstairs, my two older children ran past me to conveniently play in their rooms. I should have known. Standing on the bottom landing of my stairs, I saw my youngest child (completely naked) standing on the couch and the brass chandelier only inches away from her. THE CHANDELIER WAS RIPPED FROM ITS WIRE IN THE CEILING. I sat on the stairs and fell apart. Ten minutes at the most had passed since I had left that room. HOW COULD THEY? HOW COULD THEY HAVE ACCOMPLISHED THAT? They know, after a bazillion scoldings, to not touch the chandelier. I have never actually caught them swinging from it, but have walked in to see it swinging. There is an undeniable lure to touch the pretty fixture. It's shiny and has at least fifteen bulbs on it. It also hangs directly above the couch and a console record player table, accessible. Sigh. Is this a sign of a full moon? Is this a sign that something is going on in the mind of my kids that I'm totally missing? Is this a sign that we have been away too long? Or is it because they know I'm not at my best right now and their Dad isn't home? Who knows. At least we're finally getting a new light fixture. One closer to the ceiling. My husband even suggested one with a climbing rope attached. I guess he sees the humor in it, I still haven't.

"Tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet."

L.M. Montgomery



Traveling Circus, Jetta Style, Part Two

It took five hours to go from Hot Springs to Memphis. On a good day of traveling, it should take about 3 1/2 to 4 hours. My overnight stop was set in Knoxville, which is seven hours from Memphis. The odds were not looking good for us the first day. I stopped at least half a dozen times to buckle children back into their restraints, namely the Caelan trunk incident. By the time we reached Knoxville that night, I was more than ready to be done. And yet I faced another full day of driving.

McKenna began the trip by moaning, yelling and crying. And she did this for an hour. Mother insanity set in well before the trip was well underway. Claustrophobia set in, the Jetta shrinking around me. The din of McKenna carrying on combined with two sisters yelling at her because they were equally as fed up with her as I was, threatened to bring this circus to a screeching halt. I don't handly whining/crying/yelling very well but I refused to pull over. I had stopped too many times the day before. There was not going to be a repeat performance of that, circus or not. Things did calm down and a couple of them drifted off to sleep. The hours and the miles passed easily, with one traffic incident in Virginia. By the time I made it to Winchester, Virginia, McKenna was resigned to her seat... for the most part. She still had random spurts of anger. If I understood all her  baby babble, I'm pretty sure she was yelling profanities at her carseat while hitting it violently.

At one point, Chaucer had moved to lay between Caelan and McKenna, his back to Caelan and his face and paws toward McKenna. That dog put his paws on McKenna's carseat. She came unglued, yelling at him to get his paws off. For the next thirty minutes, Chaucer would put his paw on her carseat for the reaction and then remove. It was like having another kid in the back seat. She was furious. He kept right on teasing her until finally he decided to put a stop to it by put his entire leg across her body, pinning her shoulders back against the seat. She was livid. And I was laughing. Shoving his leg off, she began a tirade against him. Whatever she was saying, she was not joking. She covered him with her books, blanket and pillow. Out of sight, out of mind... or just complete vengeance on the dog. She won. He got up and went to the trunk, where he stayed for the last two hours of the trip. Those last two hours were very calm for McKenna. I think she finally got all her frustrations out.