Time well spent

Levi has been missing his grandma and asking to go visit her, so for the next few days he is in Texas with his grandparents. Levi is the most rambunctious of my kiddos. The one I have to keep my eye on constantly to make sure he isn’t throwing the cat down the stairs, creating masterpieces on the wall with a sharpie or prying the buttons off the laptop keyboard. So I thought I was going to get a lot done around the house since he is gone. Today I did sweep and mop the kitchen floor---then I sat on my ass and watched 4 episodes of Gossip Girl. Life is Good.

xoxo Jeni

Litter Box Trained...

My kiddos are enjoying Billy. His frisky kitty antics keep us all laughing. What doesn’t have me laughing is his litter box. Why does it surprise me that such stinky messes can come from something so little. Isn’t that what happened when I had my first kiddo, Kylie? A cute, adorably irresistible baby girl who’s daddy refused to change her diapers cause they made him gag. The litter box in the bathroom makes me feel the same way. But there have been some horrendous smells in this house today.

Levi has been working very hard to master the fine art of buttoning his own pants. He isn’t being all that successful. So today when he needed to use the potty he was fighting to get the button undone and well, had a bit of an accident. It was a mushy mess. He hasn’t had a poop accident in his pants for well over a year, but there I stood in the bathroom smelling the mess in his undies combined with the smell from the litter box and I almost puked. I hadn’t even started to clean him up yet.

I help him out of his gooey filled undies, and quickly threw them into a plastic bag which landed in the garbage. God bless flushable wipes because without them I couldn’t make it through cleaning a 4 year olds bootie. Belle was standing by watching everything going on, and something in her little body says –me too—because Levi got off the toilet and she was pulling down her panties saying she had to poop. She decides this is a good time to get modest and tells me “you go away mommy. I poo poo.” Gladly I retreat from the bathroom, that smells like an outhouse and get Levi some clean clothes.

When I return Belle has tried to wipe her own bootie. There is greenish brown goo all over her fingers and on the toilet seat. She even flushed the potty with those same fingers--smears of poop everywhere. So once again I turned to my box of flushable wipes and let the clean up begin. Belle is proud of her accomplishment “I do it myself mommy.” Levi is running all around the house yelling “I am nakey, I am nakey.” At least he was clean. I just felt like I could not take the fumes anymore and I switched on the bathroom exhaust fan.

Why didn’t I think of the fan earlier?

Since I had been playing in poop I might as well just clean the litter box too. While getting an empty shopping bag for the scoop up clean up Belle starts sifting through the litter herself and dumping it in the floor. After playing tug-o-war with Belle over the scooper I finally win. I start sifting the kitty litter for clumps—Billy is carefully taking notes from the top of the commode—carefully watching my every move, when I realized that the litter is all wet underneath.

Did the cat pee that much in one day? Whatever.

I decided I just need to dump the whole box and put in fresh litter. As I am carrying the box to dump it out Levi asks what I am doing, so I tell him the litter is all wet and needs to be changed. He looks at me with his big eyes and says “is it because I peed in there?”

My son peed in the litter box. Great.

Thighs causing friction?

Exercise has never been on the top of my to-do-list. Actually, the idea of exercise has rarely entered my mind at all since I met my P.E. requirements in high school—and that was quite a while ago. A new fitness center opened near me a couple weeks ago. I kept hearing all these great things about it “blah, blah, blah…2 hours per day of childcare…blah blah” What?! Wait did I hear correctly- 2 hours away from my whiny, fit throwing kiddos? Every day? Where do I sign up? As it turns out, you must stay at the fitness center to enjoy the benefit of someone else chasing your kids around. So my new daily routine includes dropping my children off with complete strangers while I reacquaint myself with physical exercise.

This movement is a whole different genre from what my body is accustomed to. Instead of stooping down to clean a poopy booty I am stooping down to do squats and I am finding muscles that I do not know I had.

When I first walked into the cardio room I felt a little intimidated. Everybody else was expertly maneuvering their machines, clearly pros, and here I stood, the rookie, wondering “how in the hell do I even get this treadmill to turn on?” Notice I picked the treadmill because it did not seem as foreign to me as some of the other torture devices machines that were lined up. But this treadmill had more options than my microwave. Is there an instruction manual? After some careful consideration I pushed a few random buttons and got it started. I was speed walking with the best of them and feeling a little proud. Then I caught a glace of myself in the mirror.

First of all, what are the mirrors for? Possibly for the pretty people to watch themselves sweat or a clever way for guys to peek at hot chick a few machines away. The mirrors are definitely not for people like me. All I saw were my black shorts that had crept up between my fat white thighs--because said fat white thighs rub together when I walk. I was embarrassed, mortified! Obviously I need to be here to work off the excessive roundness my body has accumulated after 4 kids but, being here like this—exposed—allowing others to see the blubber I normally keep concealed under clothing was a horrible feeling.

The initial shock of seeing lumpy thighs in clear view of everyone did fade away, but I vow to only stand on machines where I cannot see myself. I must return everyday to work out; it is my only escape from the little creatures that call me mommy and in the end maybe I will be able to stand in view of a mirror and not cringe…maybe?

New Moon book cover

I just could not resist. So here it is for your viewing pleasure the New Moon movie book cover.

Playtime at 5 in the morning

I was already having a hard time sleeping last night, tossing and turning, watching the clock. Then Levi appears beside my bed with his blanket and pillow. I groan and glance at the time 4:26 am. I help him up into my bed and try to snuggle into my pillow for a couple more hours of tossing turning before the alarm goes off. Our kitten, Billy, has better ideas. Bouncing and pouncing all around Levi, running all over my legs. I am thinking how pointless it is try and lay in my bed and rest--- Levi is even getting frustrated at Billy. So I put Billy in the bathroom and shut the door. "Meow, Meeeoooww.......MEEooww!" Levi says "Mommy Billy is sad. Get him out of the bafroom." So up I go with Levi trailing behind me. After the cat is freed from his prison, we head to the living room with our blankies and pillows. Resting in here is not an option either. Billy is everywhere, knocking over picture frames, climbing in flower pots, playing with legos under the coffee table. So Levi decides that now would be a good time to play too. Really? At 5 in the morning? Yes--- I am tired. It is now 8 am, Kyle just left for work, Levi and Belle are screaming at each other because he wants to watch Tom & Jerry and she wants to watch Barney. I go for classic cartoon violence over the sugary sweet freakishly happy dinosaur, but the toddler who screams the loudest will have the deciding vote.

McConaughey to be Daddy again

Matthew McConaughey took to his blog on Father's Day to announce that he and his girlfriend, Camilla Alves, are expecting another kiddo. Congrats!! But lets not forget-- the hotness that is Matthew McConaughey doesn't wear deodorant and he buried the placenta from his first child's birth in an orchard because he thought it would help fertilize the land. Odd? Yes. Still Hot? Definitely.

Furry Friend

My kids have been asking for a kitten for several months now. At one point I was on board with the idea of a fur ball running around, and then I decided that the kiddos getting a kitten simply added to my daily chores. So a firm NO has been seeping from my lips with every beg, plead and sob story about how much a neighbor around the corner needs to get rid of their kittens.

Said neighbor around the corner has 3 female cats that are obviously not spayed and they all had kittens at the same time! Not my problem—let them take that one up with the SPCA or Bob Barker, whichever.

Kalvin comes home from a bike ride with a petite fuzzy grey, meowing kitten with the sweetest little face and my heart melts. “Absolutely we can keep this kitten!” I exclaim. How could I resist such an adorable creature?

Kyle would not approve so I used a cowardly non-confrontational way to deal with that storm. I introduced this new addition to the family via email to Kyle. It was the safest way. I sent the email with a picture so he too could be taken over by the cuteness this little furry creature was empowered with. He was not too pleased. But, if I had asked him “Kyle, Kalvin brought home the cutest kitten and do you think we could keep him?” I would have heard an answer I did not want. So it was easier just to tell him rather than ask.

By the time he made it home from work I had already been to the store to pick up the necessities; litter boxes, food bowls, kitten food, toys and a jingly collar. So there was no going back.

Billy is quite the sweetheart, and has quickly won Kyle over. So much so that he doesn’t even complain about the Billy sleeping in our bed. I was even shocked by that one. There are times I have to put him on the floor at night because he will wake up and decide that my foot would make a great wrestling buddy, that my hair is a toy or that my eyelashes taste good enough to lick--- yes, he has licked my eyelashes.

Let's eat

Eating off my floors is not recommended. They are dirty, covered in Bevo’s dog hair and sticky from unknown substances. The kids drop everything on the floor. So much so, that I am beginning to wonder if Belle and Levi actually get anything into their mouths. If Levi was as slender as Belle I would be more concerned. There are crumbs, and bits of food, sticky drips from popsicles, dried messes that are unidentifiable-- often covered in dog hair. Luckily the shedding of the Bevo’s winter coat is almost complete. But I still let the kiddos eat stuff that has fallen on the floor….that whole 5 second rule is about a minute long in this house. I will look the food over for obvious debris to be removed and then return the fallen edible goodies into the hand of a kiddo willing to consume it. This does not work well with the bigger kiddos but the little ones have not complained yet. I have trained them so well.