Confirmation

Flashback to two nights ago. It was 6:30. I had just finished dinner with the kids and they were both covered in pudding. My daily call to Landon had confirmed his time home at around 7:30, so I was on my own with the bath and bedtime stuff (which is usually the case anyway). Mason had refused an afternoon nap (again, usually the case these days), and Rissa was a little cranky all day. Bedtime, although a little hectic, is usually one of my more favorite times of day because of the snuggles and book reading. I ran the bath and got the Rissa into it, but Mason was resisting. He didn't want to take a bath. He didn't want to go to bed. He only wanted Dad, who is much nicer and much more fun. Also, he only loves Dad the most (he's been throwing that into the mix a lot lately t00). Now, while I'm not one to force a bath on a kid, the Dude was covered in pudding and had already skipped a bath the day before. A bath seemed very much in order.
So I say to him, "You can either take a bath, or you can go to bed right now," thinking that the obvious choice would be take the bath.
He looks at me with his little "not gonna budge" face and says, "None."
"None isn't an option, Mase. You have two options. One is to get in the bath. The other is go to bed right now."
"None!" he responds, more forcefully. At this point I know I'm hitting a wall.
"Mason, I am going to count to three. Then you will tell me whether you want to take a bath or go to bed. If you cannot choose one of the two, then I will choose for you" (this is something the teachers at his school do). "One, two, three."
"NONE!" and a frustrated groan is all I get. So I inform Mason that he will be taking a bath. I finish undressing him (which is no easy task, by the way. Undressing an unwilling almost five year old as he kicks and generally throws a fit is hard). I'm getting to the point where putting him in the bath seems like a pretty awful idea, so I decide he's headed to bed after all. So, I take said flailing five year old into his room and put him in bed (naked). This really freaks him out. Going to bed is apparently an even worse option than going into the bath, and he asks to take a bath.
"Great!" I say, and instruct him to go get in the bath. He heads to the bathroom, where he suddenly discovers a small hangnail. This gets him wailing like he's discovered one of his fingers is missing or something.
"I caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan't take a bath. WAAAAAAAAAAAH! It will hurt my OOOOOWWWIIIIIIIEE!"
"Dude. Mason. I'm so finished with this. Get in the stupid bath. NOW!" says I, except I'm a yeller, so I'm yelling it sorta like a crazy person.
So there I am, yelling at my kid, who is in full blown hysterics (which is, as I have pointed out before, very, incredibly helpful), trying to put him in the bath. The girl, who is already in the bath, does not look kindly upon what is going down in her bathroom between her mom and brother, and also starts crying hard. She generally prefers a Mason-free bath since he likes to dump water on her and otherwise disrupt her precious alone-time (I know all about that), so she's really not keen on Mason joining her bath while he's all freaking out.
At this point, I'm not backing down from the bath. I stick him in it, but don't feel right about making him sit or lay down. So I splash water on his face/head (screaming escalates) to, at the very least, remove the pudding from all over his face (why did this crazy kid deserve pudding again?). I succeed in removing the pudding, then I grab him out of the tub, wrap him in a towel and throw him onto his bed.
"GO TO BED! NOW!" I scream, and slam his door shut. Since he is being a very nice boy and an excellent listener, he immediately gets out of bed and tries to open his door. My experience tells me this is going to happen, so I'm waiting by the door, anticipating his every move. "GET IN BED, NOW, MASON!"
Here's where we reach my aside. Long before I had kids, I decided I wasn't going to be a spanker. All the parenting books and magazines says it does more harm than good, and since I try to be a conscientious parent, I'm gonna go with the experts. Except, then the real world sets in and you have a screaming, collicky, GER-suffering baby who cries for hours and hours on end and a 3 year old who isn't getting enough attention, you're at the end of your rope in every way imaginable, and you try spanking said toddler once or twice. My real world parenting has confirmed what I have read in the many books and magazines... spanking does more harm than good. So, much to Landon's displeasure (and more than a little of my own guilt for striking my child), Mason has been spanked a handful of times, all in the first 6 months of his sister's life when I was a veritable crazy person. In the time since, I have pulled out the spanking threat once or twice with no real intent to follow through, which is another big parenting no-no, but this night was already pretty out of control. This is the end of my PSA on spanking. Now back to previously scheduled story...
This is the part where I yell, "GET IN BED OR I'M GONNA SPANK YOUR BUTT!" Yikes, I've really lost it. That just really came out of my mouth. I know I'm not going to spank his butt. I don't want to spank his butt ever again. Still, it's been said and (fortunately) he backs down a little (I still feel all guilty for even saying it).
"I WANT DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADYYYYYY."
"You know what, Mason? So do I. I want Daddy too." And believe me, I wasn't just saying it. Somehow, us both wishing Dad was home already found us some common ground and got Mason to calm down enough for me to get Rissa bathed and out of the bath. Mason allowed me to put him into his jammies and tuck him into bed. I got Rissa ready and put her to bed too. It was just a few minutes past 7, but I was beat. I was plum tuckered out and wondering whether I was in the right line of work. Clearly, I must be doing something wrong to have such a gigantic freak out episode, right?

Jump ahead to today. Mason is sick and home from school for the day for some rest. Rissa is still acting a little cranky (I think she must either be sick or cutting her 2 year old molars, but I'm not sure yet). I put Marissa down for her morning nap and let Mason finish watching Sesame Street. After it's over, he came and got me. I convinced him to lay down and rest, but he wanted me to come with him. So, we climb into his bed and crawl all the way under the covers. We laugh a little. We snug a little. We decide his bed and his covers are too small for our needs and move into my bed. More snugging and laughing occurs. We talk about hibernating and how cool it would be to sleep for three months (okay, mostly I talk about how cool it would be to do that). Finally, we're both quiet, laying together under the heavy down comforter, and I realize I am in the right line of work after all.
If I were a lawyer, I wouldn't be in bed with my sick little boy at 11:30 am snugging and making him feel better. If I were a doctor, I wouldn't be creating these sorts of memories with my kids every day. If I were anything other than a mom right now, my kids would be spending their waking hours with someone I am paying to do these things that I really would prefer to do myself. And for that, I am truly grateful. I am grateful that I get to be the one raising my kids, during the fun times and the tough. I am grateful that we are fortunate enough financially to allow me this opportunity, and I am grateful that I have a spouse who supports me in every way to be home raising my own kids.

Today is Easy

About a month ago, we had our first rain of the season. It didn't roll in all easy and nice. Nope. The rainy season started with a freaking monsoon (well, at least it seemed monsoon-ish to me). The storm we got was the end of what WAS a typhoon while the system was over the Philippines. It rained good and hard for a solid 24 hours. It made fantastic puddles that we enjoyed for days, but it also brought a less welcome surprise . . . a surprise which came in the form of mold.

It actually got worse than this, but my whole itchy scalp thing prevented me from getting more photos.

Now, I generally try not to completely freak out about things. I try, but I don't always succeed. I have seen shows about "toxic mold", and I even knew a family who had a toxic mold invade their home and cause some medical issues for the whole family. So there I was, with a moldy wall, trying not to freak out. I made the excellent choice to post the picture on my Facebook page with the caption, "This worries me". Within minutes, a bunch of my friends all respond with comments that do nothing to assuage my fears. (Lesson learned: Facebook friends may not be the best source of comfort OR factual information).
Really long story made short: our landlord responded pretty well, got their insurance right on top of things, and then we played the get this problem fixed game. That involved a lot of strangers coming to my house (insurance adjusters, environmental scientists, mold abatement pros, roofers, etc) over the period of several weeks, getting a new roof put on, having the mold removed, and now finally, getting a new, mold-free wall. We still need to let the texture dry, hang trim, and repaint, but the end is very much in sight.
So today, it's easy for me to feel grateful. I'm grateful that my landlord did their best to get this resolved quickly and painlessly. I'm grateful that the mold wasn't of the crazy "toxic" variety, and that we didn't have to burn all our stuff for fear it was infected with toxic spores. I'm grateful that all the strangers that have been in and out of my house have been friendly and honest and not weird molesters or rapists (see how I try not to freak out about stuff?). I'm grateful that we got a brand-spanking new roof out of the deal. I'm grateful that I was able to get the mold abatement crew to test the whole house for mold (no mold anywhere else... hooray!) and for the peace of mind that has brought me. And I'm really grateful today that we have a new, mold-free wall in our family room.
Today is easy. We're mold free and all put back together!

Of All the Blessings In My Life...

Perhaps the one I am most grateful for is my husband, Landon: I know that this blog is rather full of posts about why being married to Landon is a huge blessing in my life, but I do not think one can sing the praises of one's spouse too much. To honor my amazing husband today, the 29th celebration of his birth, I write this post.

I think my favorite thing about Landon is his dedication to family, particularly to his children. Since I have known Landon (we're at about 13 years now), the primary driving force in the decisions he makes and the life he leads is being a good father. Most everything he has done up to this point in his life has been to make sure he would one day be able to provide a good, stable, happy, worry-free life for his children, from the women he dated to the career he chose. Landon has always operated from a place of concern for how it might one day affect his family. As a woman who puts family at the very top of her priority list, it was hard not to fall deeply in love with a man so focused and dedicated to the children he would one day have.
While Landon is focused and driven and dedicated, he doesn't take himself too seriously. Although he is confident in his intelligence and abilities (and we all know how sexy confidence can be), he is humble about his achievements and self-deprecating in his sense of humor. He isn't one to get caught up in self-pity or selfishness, and doesn't have a lot of patience with those things in others. Instead, Landon chooses to laugh and have fun and enjoy his life. Lots of Landon's time is spent on play and tickles and silliness. And although Landon can be a bit cynical about the world, he isn't pessimistic. He looks to the future with hope and a sincere desire for happiness through gratitude for the many blessings in his life. And Landon can make me laugh like no other person on this earth.
Last night, on our way home from the Cal/ASU football game, I told Landon that I am incredibly lucky to be his wife. He asked me why. I don't remember all the things I listed, but it was a long list, and I was being absolutely sincere in my praise of my husband. He is an amazing man. I was sure lucky the day I convinced him that he should marry me, and luckier every day since.
Happy Birthday, love. I look forward to growing old with you. Congratulations on your 29th birthday, and here's to many, many more to come!

Smiles All Around

Today started rough. Mason woke me up way before I was ready. After spending all morning moving furniture and preparing the house to be torn apart during the mold abatement process, the mold crew arrived to let me know it would not be safe to start their work until the roofers were finished replacing the roof (not to mention the irritation I was already experiencing with the roofers for not being finished yet). I felt all annoyed and grouchy, but then I decided to be happy that we wouldn't have plastic up over the weekend as planned and to enjoy my day.
I had planned on needing to be out of the house as much as possible since there were supposed to be guys tearing moldy walls and ceilings out of my house, and so I had set up a playdate with my beautiful sister Caitlin and her fantastic kiddos. I packed a nice little lunch, surprised The Dude early with an early pick up from school and headed up to a great little park about halfway between where we live and my sister's house. Mase declared the surprise "Great!" and we set out to enjoy the beautiful day with which we had been blessed.
As Mase, Rissa and I ate dinner this evening, I realized I felt really happy. Content. Peaceful. Lately, by dinner time, I have not been feeling any of those things. I've mostly been feeling frustrated and tired and just plain finished. And frazzled. I often feel frazzled at the end of the day.
Feeling these good feelings got me thinking about how my choice earlier in the day to be happy about the situation that was frustrating me helped to reshape the day I would eventually have. It certainly helped that I got some fresh air, my kids played hard and had fun, and I got to spend time with some of my most favorite people in the world, but really, that small, easy choice shaped the way I would feel for the rest of the day. And that has kept me smiling all evening.