Ain't No Day Like A Snow Day

This pregnancy has, thus far, been kicking my butt.  And in case you didn't already know (or gather it from the opening sentence), I am pregnant.  But alas, I am closing in on the the first trimester and for the past few days, I have wakened each morning feeling alive and happy.  The morning sickness has vanished and I no longer require fourteen hours of sleep per night.  So once again, life is peachy.

Yesterday, school was canceled due to 'weather and illness'.  When Mae and I went outside to feed the dogs in the afternoon, I couldn't help but notice that the snow on the ground was the perfect consistency for snowball-making.  I wasted no time doddling and immediately challenged Mae to a snowball fight.  Throwing her feeding pail in the general direction of the house, she grabbed up as much snow as she could handle in both arms and threw it...directly into the wind so that it flew right back in her face.  After pummeling her with about a dozen snowballs, I then took the time to properly teach her how to pack a snowball.  We then noticed Kenny and Kyler standing behind the sliding glass doors, smiling slyly.  We threw a couple of snowballs at the doors and laughed when it scared them.  What we didn't know is that they had already snuck out the front door and pre-packed a whole bucket of snowballs.  Mae and I did not have a stockpile, so when the doors slid open, all we could do was turn our backs and hide our heads as they catapulted endless snowballs at us. 

After the snowball fight, Kenny decided that we should build an igloo.  The way he suggested it made me think that he'd had prior igloo-building experience.  Wrong.  He got out the snow shovel and started digging up our yard into one giant snow pile.  His idea was to pack it all down, then dig a tunnel through it.  As the pile reached about four feet high, I told him we should pack it down.  I jumped on top of it and sank down a few inches.  Kyler followed my lead, then Mae.  There was just enough room for one more person to join in on the packing-down fun, so Kenny took the opportunity and jumped on...and fell right through.  This caused a large rupture of laughter from the rest of us and Kenny's such a good sport that he even laughed along.  It wasn't until just then that I realized that he was wearing Mae's bright purple stocking cap, complete with enlarged pom pom on top.  So many reasons to love him!

After completing the "igloo", we hauled our frozen fingers, toes and noses back into the house, created a large pile of snowy coats, scarves, gloves and hats in the doorway, then settled down for some hot cocoa and a movie. 

I wish this was a 'snow life' instead of just a 'snow day'. 

We Gonna Let It All Hang Down. Unless You're A Cop.

Here's us, driving home from swim lessons on a much-too-cold and darkened winter evening (yesterday).  Mae is in the back seat (behind me as I'm driving) playing video games.  Kyler has scored a card-collector's album from Shopko and is excitedly tearing into it with the dome light turned on just above his head.  And Eric Clapton's 'After Midnight' is on the radio.  This becomes more rare with each passing day, so I crank the radio up, grab my bottle-of-Aquafina microphone and sing my heart out.  We're happy as can be, just hip-hopping down the highway and having ourselves a rip-roaring time.  I notice a car to my left and am instantly annoyed because I can only assume that they are watching my singing performance and are, most likely, making fun of me.  I choose to ignore them as there is a pretty good chance that I don't know them and never will. 

The chorus ended right as Mae advanced to the next level in Mario Kart.  Taking a small break, Mae noticed something and blurted out loudly, "Uh oh.  Oh NO, Mom, look to your left!"  I turned my head to the annoying car in the next lane, still keeping pace with us, only to see a State Trooper beside us.  He, too, had his dome light on and I think it was on purpose just so I could see him give me his, "Really?" look.  In less than one second, the backseat light was flipped off, my hands went to 10 and 2 and my eyes were focused on the road.  I can't even say if I threw my microphone-bottle on the floor or put it back in the cup holder as I was in such a panic that I don't remember. 

Now that I was driving as safely as possible, the trooper stepped on his gas pedal and sped ahead of us.  The remaining fifteen miles it took to get home were the most boring miles I may have ever put in as far as driving time goes.  Still, paying a ticket for 'obnoxiously singing and dancing while driving' is not something I ever want to do. 

Terrors in the dark. Or not.

I woke in the dark of night to the sound of a high-pitched, blood-curdling scream in the distance.  It happened so quickly that I couldn't tell if it was real or I had just dreamed it.  Either way, I sat upright in bed, quite shaken.  Not more than a couple of seconds passed before I heard it again. 

I instinctively jumped out of bed and ran to the kids' rooms to check on them.  They were both sleeping soundly.  I walked to the back door and cautiously unlocked it.  I slid it open just far enough to pop my head out and there I stood and listened for at least two minutes.  Everything is darker in the country.  And scarier.  There are no street lights or patrolling police officers out here.  Just the two dogs who, oddly enough, were not barking at all.  The only thing I saw in the whole two minutes I stood there was my own breath.  I shut the door and relocked it.  I went to the front door and repeated the process, hearing only silence.

I checked on the kids one more time, then reluctantly headed back to bed.  As I pulled the covers over myself, I again heard the scream, just exactly as I'd heard it the first two times.  Upright again and shaking even more, I was wide awake and glanced at the clock in case I would need to report the time to the police because certainly, they would need to be called soon.  Somebody, somewhere was suffering something terrible. 

I decided that before I went to investigate again, I would wake Kenny up.  I wasn't about to head out into the darkest dark and coldest cold night all by myself.  And anyway, he's way better at dealing with trauma than I am.  As I inched nearer to him and was just about to shake his arm, I heard the scream again.

And that is when I realized that the horrific, high-pitched little girl or woman-scream was actually the sound of my husband's nighttime nose-whistle.  Needless to say, I did not get much sleep after that. 

Shootouts and resolutions.

I awoke this lovely New Year's Eve morning to the sound of guns blasting and people screaming.  I could soon hear the police reading somebody their Miranda rights. 

So, maybe I failed to mention that the blasts were mostly mouthed sounds and the guns were Nerf guns, but either way, I decided to roll out of bed.  With shootings going on the house, I thought it would be best if I was sneaky, so I slid against the dark walls of the bathroom, through the laundry room and then peaked into the living room.  Officer Kyler was putting criminal-Mae into couch-jail as Officer Kenny stood nearby with a gun pointed at her, just in case.  Once she was securely...well, secured, they decided to go look for other criminals.  Kenny said he thought he'd heard one coming from "that direction" (points toward our bedroom) and they took off, Kenny limping from a leg wound he endured when Mae shot him while she resisted arrest. 

As the brave and noble policemen exited the room from the north, I slinked in from the south and committed my very first ever jail break.  Except things didn't go as I planned and I made too much noise as I laughed insanely while abetting my partner in crime.  The two officers were able to shoot me straight in the heart at least three times and I fell to my shocked death (of course, only after seeing Mae make her great escape).  And this is pretty much how every day has gone since I started my 'Staycation' and the kids began their Christmas breaks from school.  Kenny has received many 'surprise' days off of work and we have been having the time of our lives with all of our the kids' new Christmas gifts. 

Being the last day of the year and all, this is typically where I would type out my resolutions for the upcoming year.  I've been thinking and thinking and I just don't have anything major to resolve.  I suppose I resolve to be happy?  And be fair?  And live?  And laugh?  And love?  Just like every day?  Last night, Kenny got on the subject of resolutions and said that maybe this is the year that he will quit smoking (we call this a reoccurring resolution).  So he will "quit" smoking and I will just love him no matter how many times he sneaks out the back door and leaves it hanging wide open for the cold air to filter in.  As the smell of smoke wafts throughout the entire house and fills my lungs (gag), I will remember to be fair.  I used to be a smoker.  I did the same thing.  So there it is.  My resolution is to endure Kenny's soon-to-be failed resolution with kindness and endearment.  (Not that I don't think he can't quit smoking, but he's already started in on the "after this pack" and then "no, after the next pack"...and we have maybe been through this thirteen-thousand times already. 

Life is good and swell.

It's a great day to be me.  Heck, it's a great month...no, YEAR to be me.  My most recent biggest problems consist of: I can't find the nail clippers.  Seriously, life is just so very good.  I either endured some horrid multi-tragedies in my last life, or I'm in for it in my next life.  Either way, all I can do in this life is smile and try not to wonder too much why that saying 'Life is Good' pertains so much to me. 

So, what have the Bigley's been up to?  Well, I'll tell you.

Kenny enjoys entertaining me in the mornings and early afternoons with a series of song and dance, including but not limited to:  his best high-pitched woman-voice, enthusiastic clapping and foot-stomping, exaggerated facial expressions and on special occasions, he parodies songs to fit the moment.  And sometimes he even has a dance partner (poor kitty).  I'm not sure what he's so darn excited about lately, but I'm happy that he's happy.

Kyler continues to do thorough research on every rock, animal and plant that he crosses paths with.  For the longest time (I'm talking years), I really just assumed that when he called animals by their actual names, he was simply making these names up as I had mostly never heard of them.  But now he checks out books at the library just to prove to me that these names are not just in his head.  Huh.  Who knew?

Mae, like Kenny, has been very sing-songy and dancy lately.  You should hear how her voice roars throughout the house during bath time!  Somehow, she thinks that nobody can hear her.  When she walks out of the bathroom and we all start singing the song that she'd been singing in the shower, she looks shocked and says something like, "That is SO weird because I was just singing that song in the bathroom!"   She has also been very busy creating and wrapping Christmas presents for Kenny and me.  Her room has been strictly off-limits for nearly two weeks now.  She has smuggled a roll of last year's wrapping paper and the underneath of our Christmas tree is quickly filling up with gifts that are the size of an 8x10 sheet of printer paper.  I get the feeling that my entire Christmas morning will be filled with me opening up gift after gift of sheets of paper that say, "I love you!"...but I'm quite okay with that.

The Dogs Bigley have a new home...the OUTDOORS!!  On Thanksgiving, they thought it wise to eat nearly one-hundred cookies that Mae and I lovingly made and had sitting across the counter tops.  This is not the first time this has happened.  Nor the second.  Nor third.  I was so angry when I woke up in the morning that I immediately drove to Tractor Supply Co., purchased fence, wire cutters, wire, cement mix, fence posts and a post driver and worked my butt off all the long weekend.  Oddly enough, they seem quite happy out there...except when a bunny hops by just out of their reach.

And me, well, I already told you that I'm doing just swell.  I have some pretty big surprises in store for Christmas this year.  As for Kenny's big super-secret surprise that I posted about a while back...well, the kids told him what it was.  I was a little bummed when Kenny told me that they'd spilled the secret until he said, "It'll be nice to have a push mower to get to the places the rider can't reach."  One:  that's a total lie. There's no place in our yard where the rider doesn't reach that a push mower could get to.  And two:  I didn't get him a mower.  What brilliant children I have!!  Kenny wouldn't quit hounding them about what I got him, so they totally lied and it completely threw him off. 

That's it for now.  Twenty short days until Christmas and I will be ba-humbuggin' if we don't get some snow soon!

Mae's theory on God.

We were driving home from Christmas shopping, just me and Mae.  We were excited and exhausted.  I looked in the rear view mirror to see Mae staring thoughtfully out her window, pondering away as she is so accustomed to doing.  I saw an idea spark in her eyes and she suddenly sat straight up (as opposed to her previous slunched-over postural position) and asked, "Mom?  Who decided that God gets to be God?"  I told her that I'd had that exact same thought many times.  She then asked, "And HOW did he get way up in the clouds before there were planes?"  I laughed but didn't respond.  She sat back and looked out her window again.  I figured she had already moved on to new and different thoughts and wonderments.

After a few minutes, she again shot upright, this time with a touch of wild in her eyes.  She exclaimed, "I KNOW!!!"  I asked, "Know what?"  And she said, "I know how he got up there.  God.  In the clouds."  I asked, "Oh...how?"  She explained, "Well, he's SO old, right?  So he must be SO old that he was here before gravity, just floating around and going wherever he wanted.  And one day he must have been in the clouds and that's when gravity showed up.  So he fell onto a cloud and he's been stuck up there ever since."

Mae crossed her arms, nodded her head and sat back looking quite pleased with herself.  She then moved on to new and different thoughts, having conquered her own confusion.

I really like her way of thinking.   

The fat Alpha Dog

It seems that I have taken a long and unexpected break from my blog.  Vegas will do that to you.  Somehow, I was the sole person in all of Nevada with no internet access.  I'm still not sure why that happened.  And as much as I'd love to blog about the time I spent there, I can't.  The slogan says so.

It's good to be home.  I missed my kids, my house, my dogs, my cats...and my PILLOW.  I've never been a fan of the smothering pillows piled across the beds at hotels.  No matter which way I lay, I can't seem to breathe and that just so happens to be very necessary.  And to let my pillow know just how happy I was to be home, I gave it a good hug and then slept like the dead for twelve hours straight.  Vegas will do that to you, too. 

Kenny is pretty darn proud of the ten pounds he gained while away.  It is the most weight he has gained in all the years I've known him, including the six months he added weight-gainer milkshakes to two meals per day.  Yeah, I know...poor guy.  He is putting in great effort to ensure the weight stays with him by spending much idle time on the couch with a collage of potato chips, lil' smokies and Nutrageous bars on his lap.  I, on the other hand, gained an equal amount of weight so while he is sitting on the couch coveting his new found fat (which is really just a slightly swelled six-pack), I am running and sweating and crying and dying on the treadmill, regretting every last calorie of last week's margaritas and endless buffets.

Settling back into normal life, Mae asked me sweetly if I would paint her left-handed fingernails today.  I agreed.  As I touched the polish brush to the first nail, she jumped back and screamed, "OOOUuuuuCHHH!!!  She gave me a very stern look and told me to be more careful.  While stunned, I agreed, though I had no idea what I'd done to hurt her.  So I slowly and gently pressed the brush to her nail again...and AGAIN she jumped back and yelled, "OW!!  MOM!!!  WHY DO YOU KEEP HURTING ME?!!"  I was completely baffled.  I apologized profusely and told her that I didn't mean to hurt her and if she'd just tell me how I was hurting her, I'd make sure it didn't happen again.  She said, "Well, it BETTER not."  And then, she smiled just a little and said very quietly, "Man, you can never tell when I'm joking."  She was SO pleased with herself.

The neighbors' dogs have been spending a great deal of time in our yard this week.  Since I am not a fan of german shepards, I have basically not left the house.  Common sense would tell me to just release our dogs outdoors to 'take care of the situation', but not me.  No.  Instead, I release the Kenny.  It is much more entertaining.  He runs after them, barking and growling.  He even chased one around the entire pond a couple days ago.  I sat in the window with a bag of popcorn and enjoyed every second of it.  And he gets the job done.  Those dogs go right home...except the one that was so terrified of him that she couldn't find her way home, so she went and sat outside of the gate for the duration of the day.  Kenny has officially claimed his spot as 'Alpha Dog' in our strange little country neighborhood.  Add that to his new fat and he's a pretty happy camper these days. 

And that's about it.  I have too many thoughts in my head that have yet to be un-jumbled so until that happens, I'll just call it good.

My children: polar opposites

Kyler and Mae wake up at the exact same time. 

Kyler feeds his cats and gets dressed before he even leaves his bedroom.  Mae mosies out of her room, wiping her eyes and yawning.  She fills the dog's water dish and spills at least half of it across the kitchen floor.  She feeds the dogs, also spilling at least half of their food across the kitchen floor. 

Kyler and Mae get ready for breakfast.  Kyler pours a bowl of cereal, adds milk, grabs a spoon and starts eating.  Mae sits down and in a whiny voice inquires, "Mom, what can I eat?"  I'm prepared for this and I answer, "We have three different kinds of cereal and two kinds of oatmeal.  You can make eggs.  You can make toast.  You can make eggs and toast together.  You can have a bagel or you can even make a sandwich."  She yawns again and says, "That's ALL?"  As Kyler's rinsing his bowl, she finally decides on cereal. 

Kyler brushes his teeth, puts on his glasses and checks his backpack to ensure he has everything he needs while Mae is eating breakfast.  She finishes and exits the kitchen, leaving her milk-filled bowl sitting at the table.

Kyler pulls on his socks and his shoes, then tells me he's going to read a book for thirty minutes.  Noticing the unusual silence, I walk into Mae's room to find her changing her doll's diaper.  She's still in her jammies.  I tell her she has thirty minutes until we leave and she should probably think about getting dressed.  She fires back with, "I don't have ANYTHING to wear."  I look toward her dresser filled with drawers of stretchy pants, jeans, skirts and skorts.  I then look toward her closet where multiple dresses and at least twenty shirts hang.  She notices this and says, "Well, I don't have anything I WANT to wear."

I go back to my desk to work and about five minutes pass before Mae yells from her room, "Mom, I need you to get something off of the top of my wardrobe that I can't reach."  I ask her if it's something she plans on wearing because all she needs to focus on at this time is getting dressed.  She replies with a simple, "Yes."  So, I go into her bedroom once again.  I see no clothing on her wardrobe so I ask what I'm supposed to retrieve for her and she says, "My Magic 8 Ball."  I say, "You told me it was something you were wearing," and she says, "Well, it's going to tell me what to wear."  I roll my eyes and hand her the Magic 8 Ball.  She says, "Is my mom a big, giant turd?", then she shakes the ball and says, "Yes, it is certain!!  Mom, you are!  I KNEW it!!"

I go back to my desk.  About ten minutes later, Mae comes out of her bedroom and by some sort of Thursday miracle, she is dressed.  I tell her, "Now brush your hair and brush your teeth," and she puts her elbows on my desk and her hands under her chin and says, "Tell me about the day I was born."  I give her a look and she decides she better just listen this time, so she heads for the bathroom, though all hunched over and dragging her feet.

It is almost time to go now so I tell Mae that she needs to check her backpack and put on her shoes, socks and jacket.  She completely ignores me, looks at Kyler and says, "Kyler, you NERD, are you actually reading in the MORNING?!"  Kyler's maturity level exceeds even my own, so he just ignores her and continues his reading.  Seeing that she cannot get a fight out of him, she decides that now is a good time to stare in awe at her new ant farm.  After a very long moment, I tell her, "Backpack, shoes, socks, jacket.  Now."  She says, "I tried to eat an ant once when I was little.  It was a black one.  I never told you about it."  I set her backpack, shoes, socks and jacket right next to her and give her a one-minute warning. 

Kyler now has bookmarked his spot in his book and is fully ready and waiting to walk out the door.  Mae slowly pulls her socks on, complaining that they are not the ones she planned to wear today (yeah, like I'd ever believe that she PLANNED something) and as Kyler and I stand there watching her, she says, "What're you guys staring at?!" 

We finally make it out to the Jeep, get inside, start driving and Mae says, "Mom, I forgot my assignment book!"  I slam on the brakes and she runs inside to get it.  We start the leaving process over.  Halfway down the driveway, Mae says, "Mom, I forgot my homework!"  I slam on the brakes again and let out a long sigh and say, "You've GOT to be kidding me!"  I put the Jeep in reverse and start backing up when Mae says, "Yeah, I am.  I didn't even have homework.  You should know that."

Every morning that we make it to the bus stop before (or at the same time as) the bus, I am amazed.  I wonder if the bus driver knows just exactly what it takes to make this happen.  We're almost always somehow on time, so he probably has no idea that each and every school morning is a roller coaster for us.  Are there other 'Mae's' out there?  Do other parents deal with this constant morning drama every single day?  I'd like to know.  Maybe we could start a support group.  PORFF:  Parents Of Refusing and Resistant Children.  We'll meet in secret and  work on our coping techniques together.

Super-secret mission is cause for super-human strength.

I have a super-secret mission to accomplish today.  I can't fully tell you what it is, but it requires sole use of the Jeep.  Nope, not taking the kids mudding...we did that two weeks ago (on accident).  I just need to pick up a very large Christmas gift for Kenny and it won't fit in the trunk of the car.

Kenny woke up less than one hour before he had to leave for work today.  He paced around the house, drinking his coffee and talking about the day ahead of him.  When there was less than thirty minutes to go, he caught a glimpse of the headlight bulbs sitting on the counter that he had purchased last night.  This caused him to remember that the driver's side headlight in the car is out.  He grabbed the new bulbs and decided that now was the perfect time to take on this project.  He walked out the front door and I could already see that I was going to have to fight for the Jeep, and without giving off any notion that I need it (remember: TOP secret.) 

Five minutes later, Kenny stormed inside, slammed the door and proclaimed, "I'm taking the Jeep today.  The stupid headlight won't come out and there's not room to fix it unless I take the whole battery out and I don't have time for that right now!"  That's actually only part of what he said, but I had to edit out all of the swear words.  This is a family blog.  (Also, he whines just like Mae).  His plan was to just leave the tools outside and the hood propped open until tomorrow, when he has more time. 

Alarmed at the thought of him taking the much-needed Jeep, I clocked out for an early lunch.  Not wanting to look suspicious, I told Kenny, "Well, it has to be fixed before you leave because I have to take the kids trick-or-treating."  I pulled on my rain boots (to avoid the hassle of tying laces)  and raced outside.  Since this was basically a pressing emergency, I took full advantage of the extra adrenaline that flowed within me and quickly shimmied the headlight out.  It took approximately two seconds before I was popping the cap off to get to the bulb and unscrewing the screws.  Kenny, who had been watching from indoors, then came outside and announced that, "I can take over from here"  and, "When did you get so strong?"  He looked afraid, and rightly.  If I had felt the dire need to jump directly through a brick wall at the moment, I bet I could have.  That's just what happens when a woman needs to get something done.  I shuddered a little when he said, "Wow, you really want to take the kids trick-or-treating, don't you?" 

So, tragedy averted.  The Jeep is mine and my secret is still secret, except the kids will have to be a part of this mission so they, too, will know.  And most likely blow the surprise before Christmas.  But at least it will still be a surprise at some point.

Llamas always lick if your name is Mae.

From where I sat, my favorite Saturday night brain-snapshot looked like this:  Kenny was sock-sliding into the kitchen with a plate filled with freshly grilled burgers and hot dogs.  My brother was spinning the swivel chair as fast as he could while the cat hung on with all her might (and all her claws).  My niece was laughing hysterically at herself because her motto is: It doesn't really matter if anybody else thinks I'm funny; I KNOW I'm hilarious.  The kids are all gathered around the food because they know that in order to earn smores, they must first endure real food.  And the dogs are both tangled amongst the kids' legs, waiting eagerly for food to drop to the floor (which, of course, it did).  And I like to just sit and watch sometimes because these people and this house and these days just make me so happy.

Then it was Sunday.  It was more than apparent that the weekend was coming to an end and the dog was NOT happy about it.  On Saturday, Mae and her friend, Grace, had dragged Mae's mattress off of her bed and into the living room.  They then set up a tent around it, filled it with comfy pillows and blankets, found a flashlight and had a 'secret sleepover'.  We won't tell them that every word they whispered echoed throughout the house. 

On Sunday morning, when the tent was taken down and the mattress was stripped, Teeyl-doggy let it be known that she was not having any of this.  It is still Saturday and it will always be Saturday and the smell of grilled food and laughter donning the entire house is vital to her very existence.  She placed herself onto the mattress in such a manner that she thought we could not move her.  And it turns out that we couldn't, but mostly just because we were doubled over with laughter:

She stayed like this for a very long time, all limbs sticking straight out and making her body as heavy as possible.  (We didn't have the heart to move the mattress until it was getting dark outside.)

Unsure what to do with our Sunday, we headed to Lincoln to drop Grace off and purchase food that required us to do nothing more than eat it (pizza).  We then decided that even though we're not your typical pumpkin patch kind of family, we'd give it a go this year.  It wasn't until we'd already arrived at the pumpkin patch and paid that I realized I was not wearing proper pumpkin patch footwear.  Walking through the corn maze in high heeled boots was less than pleasing, and Kenny called me a 'bad example' when he caught me cutting through the corn toward the exit. 

Speaking of bad examples, please enjoy the following photos of Mae and Kenny showing us how children do as we do, not as we say.  I would like to add that before Kenny came climbing up the haystack (rather than using the wooden steps provided), Mae was sliding down the slides happily and properly.

See how Mae was all ready to go down the correct way, until she spotted her dad swooping down the INCORRECT way?

You can't hear him, but when this was taken he was saying, "No, Mae, you shouldn't go down like that..." as he was fully ready to catch her.

And one last picture, just because it makes me laugh.  Mae has a way with llamas.  At the fair last year, she was licked from chin to forehead by a llama.  This photo was taken right after she was licked in the back of the head as she turned to say, "Mom, look, this one didn't lick me!"

We picked our pumpkins and purchased snacks.  I ate my very first caramel apple and I shouldn't have.  It was delicious but really, my bad habit limit is pretty much full and I shouldn't be trying to add more.  I suppose it can be a once-a-year deal.

When we got home, we ate makeshift leftover supper.  The kids took showers and got their backpacks ready for school.  They were both fully asleep by six o'clock.  I guess they can only handle so much weekend.  Fun is exhausting!

After you finish that nap, DON'T take out the trash.

Sometimes, I sit here without a thought in my mind that I want to share.  I go to my blog, click 'New Post' and just let the blank page sit there and stare at me.  My brain finds this unacceptable and quickly comes up words to fill this space.  Something is triggered, we'll call it the need-to-write-stuff-in-case-I-die-too-young part of my brain, and funny/happy thoughts fill my head.  Like a lightning bolt, these thoughts whisk right through my arms and into my fingertips, released only by keystrokes on my computer.  Now, if I could only figure out how to also trigger the need-to-clean and need-to-save-money parts of my brain, I'd be set.

Halloween is fast approaching.  Mae announced that she wants to be a cat this year.  Before she could change her mind to something that would cost me more money, I raced to the store and purchased a pair of cat ears and a tail. 

Over the weekend, I needed to do some grocery shopping and Mae wanted to tag along.  We made it through almost the entire store before she walked in front of me and I noticed that she was wearing her tail.  No ears, no whiskers painted on...just a tail with her regular clothes.  I suppose it could be worse, like the day she wore roller skates to Wal Mart and I didn't notice until we got there.  Or the day she learned the f-word and spouted it proudly to every person that passed her in the store no matter how many times I scolded her (she was two years old; this wasn't recent).  As I was born without the neeed-to-save-money part of my brain, I am quite sure that Mae was born without the I-get-embarrassed part of her brain.  It just doesn't happen.  Ever.

I feel like I don't report Kyler stories nearly as often as I write about Mae, but he is our sweet boy who always does (almost) everything that he's supposed to do, when he's supposed to do it, how it's supposed to be done and without complaint or worry.  He's so honest that I trust his words more than my own thoughts.  Just yesterday, he told me that he's worried that he has lost muscle mass since he didn't participate in football this year.  With the wrestling season just around the corner, he decided he needs to do something to make up for it.  I suggested that he could run a mile on the treadmill each night and do some push-ups and sit-ups.  He took that in, thought about it for about three seconds, then hopped onto the treadmill for exactly one mile, followed by push-ups and sit-ups.  See what I mean?  He just does what's right all the time in a way that I am very unaccustomed to.  You want me to run?  Then I'll sit.  You want me to work?  I'll roll down a hill.  Clean?  Take a nap.  I believe that everything that is requested of me is a form of reverse psychology, like people are trying to trick me into doing good and I won't stand for it unless it's on my own terms.  And then I wonder why nothing ever seems to get done.  Maybe if I was constantly ordered to take long naps, make large messes and embark on multiple vacations every year, I would counter those orders and be productive.  Yeah, I'm sure that's what would happen.

I reNember the day you stepped on your own hand.

It has recently occurred to me that my kids no longer use kid-talk.  Mae doesn't 'reNember' things anymore.  Kyler doesn't ask me to 'back-forward' (rewind) the movie.  And neither of them ever use curse words  because they are fully aware of which words will get them into trouble.  I can't pinpoint exactly what day this happened, but it seems to all have happened at once.  They are suddenly big kids and it makes me sad.  I wish time didn't have to be so straightforward.  I mostly like living in the here and now, but it would sure be nice to hold my babies again. 

Okay, enough of the emotional baby stuff.  Here's a good reason that I LOVE the age that my kids are:

Last night, we were enthralled in the longest game EVER of Uno.  I told Mae that she should go pop us some popcorn and she got really excited because she loves popcorn.  As she eagerly tried to stand up from the floor while at the same time sprinting to the kitchen, she somehow stepped on her own hand and went somersaulting into the kitchen.  She was laughing, but didn't want to lose any time so she gracefully rolled out of the somersault and jogged to the microwave, leaving Kyler and me to wonder what had just happened.

A few minutes later, as Mae walked back into the living room with a large bowl of popcorn, Kyler and I were still trying to reenact her folly.  She said, "No, you're doing it wrong.  It's like this."  She then was able to show us exactly how she had stepped on her own hand while twisting into a jumping run.  She asked me quite seriously, "What, have you never stepped on your own hand and fallen down?"

I can honestly say that in all of my thirty years, no, I have never accidentally (nor purposely) stepped on my own hand and fallen down.  That takes true talent.  Mae revealed to me that this was not the first time it happened.  Apparently, it also happened at school last year.  I'm not sure whether to laugh or feel sorry, but I do take pride in the fact that she can laugh at herself because that's really a great characteristic to have.

Stop laughing and start sleeping. (Impossible!)

Sleeping.  We've been doing a lot of that lately.  Not sick-sleeping.  Not I-worked-too-hard-sleeping.  Just simply I-feel-like-sleeping-sleeping.  I'm sure it's the weather.  When the temperature drops, hibernation mode sets in.  And it seems to have struck every member of this household, all at the same time.  One minute, we were running through the yard, catching frogs and flying kites.  The next minute, a waft of cold air went through us and we were all laying across the couches, snoring and dreaming of running through the yard, catching frogs and flying kites.

And when I say every member of our household, I mean EVERY member:

Two nights ago, Mae, Kyler and I were all strewn across my bed top, happily reading our books.  It's a great way to wind down.  Kyler announced that he had read for enough minutes to earn a 'hunk of pizza' from the grocery store, so he would be retiring to the television to watch wrestling.  It must have taken Mae and I about five minutes to pass out, books still atop us.  When Kenny got home, he turned on the light, saw Mae laying there, pushed her into the middle of the bed and then flipped the light switch back off to dive into his pre-warmed spot in bed.  He whispered to me about his day at work, so as not to wake our slumbering little princess.  I whispered back to him about our day at home.  After a few minutes of this, Kenny whispered, "Okay, I'm going to sleep now.  I love you."  I whispered back, "Good night; love you."  Then, loudly, Mae said, "I LOVE YOU GUYS, TOO.  BUT WHY ARE YOU TALKING SO QUIET?"  Oh, that little girl.  It then became one of those I-can't-quit-laughing moments that went on forever.  Once I'd finally quit chuckling, Kenny would start and that would set me off again.

I love my funny, sleepy family. 

Parks are for playing, not sitting.

Yesterday, it was so nice outside that after swim lessons while the kids were still dripping wet, we were able to go to the park and play. 

Both kids immediately climbed the human-sized spider web all the way to the top and I began wondering just exactly how hurt they could get from falling off.  I decided it would depend on how many times they got tangled up on their way down, but the possibility of severe injury was very great.  And since this thought was in my head, Mae decided to go ahead and test it.  Except she fell more from the bottom than the top, as she was getting down, but she still caught her arm on one of the ropes on the way down.  She laid on the ground, scream-bawling and holding her arm.  I ran over to her and inspected it: scraped but not severed.  I decided she would survive.  Her screaming was very persistent so I told her that maybe we should go home and get a band-aid.  She abruptly stopped crying, said, "No, I'm not done playing," then jumped up to begin the uphill spider web trek once again.

After the web fun dulled, the kids decided to have monkey bar races.  They made me race, too.  I let them win, but they didn't believe me.  (Neither do I.)

Next, Kyler and Mae crammed themselves into the tire swing.  They're almost too big to fit at the same time.  I began spinning them around and didn't stop until they were both screaming like little girls.  When they finally did come to a stop, they both tried to exit the tire swing through the tire hole and got stuck: chest to chest and face to face.  They stood there like that for quite a while, arguing over whose fault this predicament was.  Every time one of them tried to move, they would end up bumping the other in a painful way.  They finally looked at me, told me to quit laughing and then left it up to me to fix the situation.  After carefully lifting Kyler out, Mae was free, too.

As the sun was setting and I was thinking we should be on our merry way, Mae told me that I had to try out her obstacle course.  I'm pretty sure she was making it up as she went along, but she sure was having fun so I just tried not to let her see me laugh ("Go down the slide backwards, then jump in the air and fart if you can.")  In the meantime, Kyler somehow got himself stuck on top of the rocking crocodile.  He was nicely asking if somebody would please help him and Mae said, "I will."  I just love it when they get along so well.  She walked right over to him, gave him a nice, big shove and watched him fall to the ground.  She said, "There, you're not stuck anymore," and walked away.  From where I sat, atop the monkey bars, I could see Kyler give Mae his oh-no-you-didn't face.  As he heisted himself up off of the ground and ran full-speed toward her from behind, I made the decision that it was time to go home.  Announcing this aloud saved Mae by mere seconds as Kyler yelled, "Last one to the Jeep is a rotten egg!"  He changed his goal from sister-tackle to first-kid-buckled and the rest is just a memory. 

To be honest, I didn't even want to go to the park.  But I know that the day you let it be known that you don't want to go to the park is the day you become labeled 'old and dull'.  From a kid's standpoint, if you don't want to run and jump and swing and play, you may as well shrivel up and die.  What is life without a playground?  And I did have so much fun yesterday that my heart beat faster and we laughed until we felt tears stinging our eyes.  I never wanna not go to the park again. 

My life is a maze...ing.

Today is the one day each year that I go into the office.  Not to work, but for a health screening that is required in order to qualify for insurance benefits.  It is also the one day each year that I don't eat breakfast, which is terrifying for all involved because I am not good at being hungry.  It gives me a headache and makes me irritable.  But it is the afternoon now and the screening is over and my belly is full so I'm back to being normal.  But of course, since I left the house, there's a story to tell.  It's actually a pretty common happening in my life and I'm wondering if I'm the only one.  Does this kind of stuff happen to other people?  Repetitively?

I headed into downtown Lincoln and was already cursing all the traffic.  (Anything more than three cars in a one-mile radius is considered 'heavy traffic' to me).  As I neared my work office, there were NO parking stalls free.  I ended up parking two blocks away and I had exactly one minute to get where I needed to go (which changes every year so I had no idea where I was really headed). 

I walked the chilly two blocks to the front doors, wishing I had worn my winter coat instead of my hoodie.  I went straight for the escalators but...they weren't there!!  They were there LAST time, but this time it was as if they'd just disappeared into thin air.  The escalators were now a wall.  How do you take escalators out?  But I didn't have time to be baffled.  I hate elevators but I had no choice so I headed toward the one opened elevator, which contained a whole group of people who only stared at me as the door shut and I was running toward it.  Buttheads. 

I then noticed a big sign that said 'Stairway' and decided that sounded much safer anyway.  Up to the second floor I went, then through one skywalk.  At the second skywalk, there was a sign with an arrow on it that said 'Wellness Check' so I followed it.  And from there, there were at least ten identical signs, pointing me in all different directions, down two escalators (yeah, the escalators were still on the OTHER side of the building), and finally landing me in a foreign part of the building.  I was completely lost, but at my destination.  I looked out the window to try and figure out exactly where I was, and directly in front of the door...my Jeep was parked. 

It was much simpler getting out of there than it was getting in.