ROLLIN' WITH THE PUNCHES

Friday was quite the day. It all began in morning when I recieved a much unexpected phone call from Mr. Shelton while perusing random isles at Target.

Me:"hello?"

Mr. "Hey, what are you doing?"

Me: "Nothing, what's up?"

Mr. "I was thinking of taking a half day today. Maybe we could go out on the boat with the kids."

Me: "Really? Wow! That would be great! The kids are going to be so excited!"

Mr. "Good, I will try and get out of here by 1 or 2pm, sound good?"

Me: "Yes, I will get home and start packing up and things, see you soon!"

Internal Dialogue after hanging up:

What am I thinking? How many times has he said he would take a half day only to have him walk through the door at 5pm? Ugh. I am getting my hopes up for nothing again. Why do I do this? Oh well, I will stay positive. He will be home by 2pm at the latest. He will..he will..he will. I will get home and get busy - pack the cooler, the towels, sunscreen, toys and all the other paraphenalia that needs to be packed up to go on the boat and to the beach with four kids. Yep. I will keep busy getting ready and stay positive. He will be home by 2pm. He will.

And I did just that. I went home and let the kids play outside, while I busied myself with the task at hand. 12:30 rolled around and the phone rang. It was the Mr.

Me: Hello?"

Mr.: "Hi, it looks like it will be more like 3pm when I get home."

Me: "Oh, I knew it. I knew you would never manage to get out of there when you said you were." [insert big, long, drawn out BOOOOOOOOOO!!!]

Mr.: "Hey, it is only an hour after what I said it would be, things keep coming up."

Me: "Things always keep coming up, you need to just leave.... Alright, see you at 3pm."

Internal dialogue:

So much for thinking positive. I knew he would never be home when he said he would be. Now I have a cooler all packed and ready to go, and the ice is going to melt. I have snacks, towels, and all other crap packed up, blankets, sippy cups, and the rest in their prospective spots in the car. And most importantly I have 4 kids, clad in their swimsuits, standing out front waiting for Daddy to arrive home. Waiting, and waiting and waiting. Why did I even mention that we would go out on the boat? I should have never said a thing. Then when and if Dad did get home, it would be an extra special surprise for them. You think I would have learned by now. Nope, not me. Stupid me. So here I go, spending the next 2 hours hoping and praying that he gets home by 3pm all the while listening to the kids yell, "mom, is he home yet? How much longer? It is taking waaaaaay too long!!"

So we waited. 3pm came and went. Then I recieved a message in the form of a text saying "Just closing on the Sea Ray, be home soon." I am thinking he made a smart choice by going the text route, as if he had me on the phone I think I would have had some words for him.

It was now closing in on 4pm, and the thought of going on the boat with 4 kids, at dinner time, knowing that their bedtime would fast approach soon after getting out on the river, did not sound all too fun.

Internal dialogue:

I. Give. Up. Now he is closing on the sale of a boat? That is not a quick process at all. So much for a nice afternoon out on the river, boating and playing at the beach. We will just not go, it is too late now. I am betting the Mr. won't be too happy that I won't want to go anymore. Well, actually... he will understand. I don't think he will want to go anymore either. He knows it is getting too late. I think. He surprises me sometimes though. I can see him coming home and wondering why we are not all standing by the front door ready to go. Yep, I can see him doing just that. And am thinking he will. But I won't go, nope, I won't. Aw, who am I kidding? I will give in, I know I will. Brian will be upset I no longer want to go, and the kids will be whining up a storm, so I might as well not even put up a fight. No, I won't even bother. I will go with the flow on this one.

So again, we waited. And then around 4:30pm it happened. Mr. Shelton pulled into the driveway. And as I assumed, he walked in the house and said, "Are we ready to go?"

I did not say much, just packed the kids into the car, and off we went to enjoy a late afternoon/evening of boating and playing at the beach.

As we cruised along the St. Croix river in the pontoon that late afternoon, I realized some things. I need to start letting go of my frustrations about Mr. Shelton not getting home when he says he will. I need to start rollin' with the punches a little bit better. I need to start reminding myself that he is working his tail off for me and the kids, and that he is no more happy about being at work later than expected than I am. I need to start reminding myself of how lucky we are to have a boat, to be able to go boating, and swimming, and play at the beach. How lucky we are to be able to create such great memories with our kids, as a family.

So it did not go quite as planned. I figure that it never really will, and I am O.K. with that. Because today, and I am certain this will be the case in days to come,the kids, Mr. Shelton and I all enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. And really, at the end of the day, that is all that matters.

So Random

We were on our way to pick up Miss Ava from her art class this morning when I decided to treat the kids to a Happy Meal. The kids were overjoyed when they noticed the car pulling into the driveway of the good old Golden Arches. It should go without saying that my kids love Happy Meals, as really, what kid doesn't? It is not even so much about the chicken tenders and greasy fries, it is instead all about the 25 cent toy they throw in there that gets the kids so excited they can barely contain themselves. I know, silly, but with kids, it tends to be the little things that matter the most.

Anyway, I picked up the Happy Meals and we continued to make our way to Hudson to pick Ava up. All the while the kids were engrossed with their ever so interesting dinosaur toy they received. This dinosaur was quite interesting. It had a head that would flip around where you would find another head. This was so that the Dinosaur was able to sport a different head when wanted. So basically it was a Dinosaur with two heads, the kids could choose either at any time, which ever seemed to tickle their fancy. They stopped playing here and there to take a bite of chicken, or pop a fry in their mouth, but most of the time was spent playing with their new "toy."

When Ava walked out the door from class and hopped in the car, she was thrilled to see a Happy Meal waiting for her.

"WOW! A happy meal again Mom!" [Yes, I win the Mom of the year award for letting my kids eat a Happy Meal a few times this week.]

To which I replied: "Yes, you guys are very lucky to get another one this week, aren't you? What a treat."

To which Ava replied, looking at the boys: "Hey you guys, we are very lucky to get a Happy Meal. Now remember, you have to eat your food and not just play with the toy. Mommy did not buy us Happy Meals so that we could get a toy. Gosh, we are lucky." a long silence followed as the boys did not have much to say in response to this.

She then added: "And we are very lucky that we don't have to go to daycare too."

How did we go from being so lucky to have Happy Meals, to that? That's Ava for you.

MY ART LOVER

My Ava loves art. Anything that has to do with paper, painting, color crayons, markers, cutting, creating of any kind, she loves. At such a young age I think it is amzing and wonderful to see her have such a passion for something.

Because of her love for art, I decided to sign her up for an art class. An explorers art camp that is all about Mexico, with all the art projects having a Mexican theme. And, as expected, she is loving it. She came out of class today looking very proud, carrying this little masterpiece in her hands.

She explained that it was a Catrina doll, and that these dolls were a part of the Day of the Dead festival in Mexico. She went on to explain that she made it from scratch and painted it all by herself too. She was very excited when telling me that the doll was really cool as her ever so fancy hat that she made for the doll could come off!

I love it. How creative! Well done my Ava Marie....

MY NEW BEST FRIEND

Yes, it is true. My new best friend is this here mop.


Why, you ask? Well, let me tell you.


Growing up in the Mason house, when it came to the floors, there was only one way in which to clean them that was acceptable. And that was the getting-down-on-your-hands-and-knees-and- scrubbing way. My lovely Mom was adamant about this, saying that this was the only way to properly clean the floors, making sure that all the spilt juice, ketchup splotches, and other random spills actually got off of the floor.



I complained about this manner of cleaning the floors everytime it was my turn to clean them. I would say things such as "why do we have to use a rag, and scrub every square inch of the floor?" "This hurts my knees!" "Why can't we use a mop like other 'normal' people?" "This sucks!"


Then my complaining subsided, when I realized it was all in vain.


The years went by with me scrubbing the floors on my hands in knees, and doing my other weekly chores around the house nary a single complaint. Which was much to my Mom's delight.


Then came the day that I was all grown up and moved on out of the family abode, and into my boyfriend's (who would soon be my husband) apartment. And wouldn't you know it - I washed the floors the same way I was made to wash them at my Mom's. I did the whole get-down-on-your-hands-and-knees-and-scrub method without even thinking twice. Wow. I guess old habits die hard.


I kept this method of cleaning the floors up through the time we stayed at the aparment in Woodbury, through the time we lived at the Beach House, and throughout the past 7 years that we have lived in our home here in Stillwater.


Well, this all changed when we decided to get pregnant with our 4th baby. I told Mr. Shelton that it was high time we hired a cleaning service to come and help me with the house as I just could not keep up with it all anymore. Someone to clean bathrooms from top to bottom, and scrub the kitchen floors. That was it. I could handle the dusting, vacuuming and other things, it was just the deep cleaning stuff I could not find time for.


So we hired someone who came every other week and scrubbed all those places I loathed and did not have time to scrub, and cleaned all of my floors. It was not done perfectly, but I was content. Content with the simple fact that I was not having to do it, and that was pretty much all that mattered at that point.


But then something happened. She approached me one day after cleaning and asked me to purchase her a mop. Yep, a mop. Internal dialogue:


What? A mop? I am paying you to come over here and clean my floors and you assume you can clean them with a mop? Why? Because it is easier? Because you don't want to hurt your hands and knees? Mops don't work. They do not clean the floors properly. They do not get all of the dirt and grime and spills off of the floor like the getting-down-on-your-hands-and-knees-and- scrubbing method does. She must just be lazy. Geeze, it is just my luck to hire a lazy cleaning lady who does not do things properly. What cleaning lady does not know that mop's are not the most efficient way of getting the floors sparkling clean? Did her Mom teach her nothing?

What I actually said to her? "Sure, I can get you a mop."


And I did, the very next week I purchased her a mop and she used that mop to clean my floors every other week for 2 years. Then I let her go. Not cause she was using a mop, but because we need to trim up the monthly budget, and unfortunately the first thing to go was my much needed help around the house.


So for the last 6 months I have been back at it, cleaning the floors the old get-down-on-your-hands-and-knees-and-scrub method.


This morning as I was on my way to drop Ava off at school, I was thinking about how I needed to wash the floors today. How it could not possibly wait another day as I have been putting it off for over a week now. How I hated the thought of even thinking about doing it, much less actually going through with it. Then I had a thought. I still had that mop in the closet that my cleaning lady had used months prior. It was just sitting there collecting dust in the corner, feeling lonely and unused. So I decided the heck with it. I was going to use. Even though it does not get the floors as sparkly clean as I would like. Even though it does not always clean up every little spill perfectly. What matters is that it is easy, and does not take a ton of time like my tried and true method does. What matters is that it works well enough. And at this stage of my life, having four kids age 6 and under and a husband who I sometimes consider one of the kids as well, well enough will just have to do.

REALLY?

I was at the Dr's office the other day, getting ready for Olivia's 1 year check up, and filling out the usual paper work. The can-your-twelve-month-old-do-this paper work. You know the questions: Is she able to pick up a cheerio or other small object with her thumb and one other finger? Does she respond when you call her name? Does she pull herself up to a standing position without any assistance? I went through these questions quickly - afterall, I have filled the questionaires out what feels like millions of times, for a miriad of different age ranges having 4 kids.

After finishing this paperwork, I came to the Framington Safety Survey. Oh, the Framington Safety Survey. I have filled this one out at each visit with each child, at each wellness check. And each time I have to laugh at some of the questions. Here are a few of them.

Do you leave your child alone at home?

Yep. Of course! I usually sit her in her pack and play with a sippy cup, a snack, and turn on a cartoon for her viewing pleasure while I leave to go do a little shopping. What is wrong with that?

Are any of your babysitters younger than 13?

Sure! Actually, I leave Olivia home alone with my 6 year old. She is old enough to babysit, right?

Do you keep household products, medicines (including acetaminophen) and sharp objects out of the reach of your child and in locked cabinets?

Ah, no. I usually leave medicines and other dangerous substances on the kids art table in the playroom. They enjoy playing with the bottles, using them as musical instruments by shaking them. I also tend to let Olivia use a pair of kitchen sheers to show her artistic ability, and the rest of the kids tend to use my Wusthof knives when making their PB & J's.

Does your child chew on paint chips or window sills?

Yes, and frequently at that. Olivia, and the rest of the kids for that matter, enjoy finding random paint chips around the house and snacking on them. Window sills? Not so much.

BEFORE I GO ANY FURTHER: I need to say for anyone out there who would not get that my answers are purely smart a** in nature, that I actually do NOT leave my children at home alone, I DO NOT have any babysitters under the age of 13, I DO NOT leave medicine in reach of the kids, or any sharp objects either. And they DO NOT eat paint chips or chew on window sills. Are we all clear on that? Good.

On with the story....

I found it hard to contain myself, and almost went and checked the "frequently" box for all of these questions just to show the Dr. how ridiculous I thought they were.

Really? Do we have to ask parents such ludicrous questions? Are there actually parents out there that would do such things and not understand how horribly wrong said things were?

Oh, yes, unfortunately, there are. Sad, so very sad.

ON TIME

Time. There is not enough of it in a day. In a month. In a year. Time, time, time, I need more of it.

More time for the day to day stuff. More time to do the stacks and stacks of endless laundry. More time to scrub the floors, the bathrooms. More time to vaccuum and dust. More time to make the beds, and clean up the toys. More time to mow the lawn, and pull the weeds. More time to clean the pool, the garage. More time to grocery shop, and run errands.

More time for the important stuff, with the kids. More time to lay on the couch and watch a movie with the kids. More time to play board games, Star Wars guys, and light sabers. More time to, color, and paint. More time to teach Anthony to ride his bike. More time to practice Ava's star words with her. More time to build Lego's with Lucas. More time to splash around in the pool, and play on the swingset. More time to snuggle up at bed time and read a good book.

More time for the important stuff with Mr. Shelton. More Time to sit on the deck after the kids have gone to bed, talking and just being together. More time with friends, out for dinner and fun. More time to lay in bed and watch a movie together. More time to take walks. More time to sit down at the end of a long day, and talk about how it went. More time to connect. More time together. Alone.

I need more time.

I need more time to just be. To not have to run here and there, to not have to do this and that and the other thing.

Time. I need more of it, and it just seems nowhere to be found.

4TH OF JULY FUN

Unfortunately, I forgot my camera at home on the 4th, so I was unable to get any pictures of our eventful evening at Dave's Marina. But alas, that is alright, as I did bring my camera along for the day-after-the-4th festivites down at mile island.

Ava and Lucas did not waste anytime and burying each other's legs in the sand....

Anthony found the music to be quite satisfying and spent much of his time on top of the cooler dancing and entertaining us....



Lucas loved the water, swimming around the boats all afternoon....

Liv was happy playing quietly by herself in the sand with toys....


Lucas and Ava actually took a time out from their fun to pose for a nice picture....

It was clear that Liv had had a long day and was in need of getting home and to settled in for the night....

Ava also seemed ready to call it a day....

Anthony spent some time curled up on Momma's lap, relaxing and taking in the beautiful day before we packed up to leave...

It was a good day, a good 4th of July, a good weekend.