Blogiversary

Saturday will mark the 1 year anniversary of Flying Years. That sounds like an excellent reason to eat cake and treat myself to a pedicure. I mean, it's hard work recording our memories and airing my opinions.

In all seriousness, though, I am so glad I started blogging. Sometimes, when I am in a sad, infuriating, sweet, or hilarious moment, I find myself mentally composing a post about it. Lucky for all of you (and some local businesses), I don't always get them typed and sent out to the world wide web, but there is something therapeutic about putting words to the events in life. (At least for me.)

I suppose if I was clever, I would set some bloggy goals for the next year. Or if I was egotistical enough, I would let all 3 of you vote on your favorite post. I am neither (or too proud to be open about the ego), so . . . thanks for reading and encouraging me to keep writing.

Bozer Dozer

Happy Birthday, Bo! I can't believe that you are already five years old! You bring such joy to this family. You are the happiest kid--so content and so loving and such an encourager. One of my favorite things about you is your love of costumes; I ALWAYS hoped to have at least one kid who would want to dress up no matter where we were going. I get such thrills from taking Batman grocery shopping or dropping Spiderman off at speech therapy. I cannot tell you what it does to my heart that you would rather lay and bed and cuddle with me than watch TV or play with your toys. I am so thankful for the special relationship you and Sascha have--you take such good care of her (when y'all aren't beating each other up). You are such a hard worker and you love to have one on one time. You are still the pickiest eater I have ever seen, but hey, cheese is healthy, right? We have seen such improvement in your tummy over the last year and your speech is getting better and better thanks to your time with Mrs. Lauren. You are a delight and such a very special part of this family. I love you more than you can even imagine, and you have a GREAT imagination! Thanks for loving me back--you make my heart melt. Happy, happy birthday.

Sweetness and savings

Tomorrow is Bo's 5th birthday. (Although, because he celebrated it at school on Thursday, he is convinced he is already 5 and if you try to correct him, he says, "But I have the crown!" This adorable red construction paper crown with a glitter 5 on it made by his teachers now carries more credibility with him than his own birth certificate.)

Anyway, I digress. For the last several weeks, he has kept the same birthday wish list:
1) a pretend turtle like Hendrix (his cousin)
2) black Batman with a black cape (because Tate ate his old one)
3) a Team Umi Zoomi t-shirt (which they don't make ANYWHERE)
4) bunk the beds

I love his simplicity and consistency.

Saturday, we bunked the beds and he climbed in and went to sleep while the rest of us were upstairs.

 before

 after

too excited to wait

Then, yesterday, with a little direction from Aunt Linda about where I could find the turtle, I set out to do some speed shopping. I had just about an hour to get it all done.

First stop--Toys-R-Us . . . they had ONE turtle left, buried in the wrong bin, but this determined Mommy looked in all of them . . . $3.23

Next--Kohl's . . . black Batman WITH 2 batarangs and a motorcycle (also hidden in the back of the shelf) . . . $6.49

Finally--Target . . . Iron-on transfer paper, a white t-shirt, and (what the heck) some Spider-Man gloves as a surprise . . . $18.02

Since I'm not charging for the time it will take me to make his Team Umi Zoomi shirt using the iron-on paper, this precious little booger's grand birthday total (with an extra present thrown in) was $27.74 and I knocked it out in less than an hour.

And he will be happier tomorrow than any other kid would be over an X-Box.

Note to self

Here is a little tip I plan to take to heart . . .

Wait until the end of the day to post such sentimental drivel . . . ok, maybe that's a little strong, but my ooey-gooey love fest with the kids ended at approximately 5:06 when Sascha refused to obey for the next 1.5 hours while in a very public place and then my 2 older kids spent from 7:30-8:30 fixated on the ONE THING that wasn't fabulous about their afternoon and evening. (For Caroline, it was NOT being allowed to make her brother and his friend watch what she wanted to when she was supposed to be leaving them alone in the first place. Tru had a meltdown over my request that he shower. Personal hygiene is viewed as abuse to 7 year old boys.)

Still love them. Still had a great week. Still think it was due to the prayers. Still gonna wait til the end of the day next time.

Happy Friday.

Snuggles all around

Josh has been out of town this week and usually this means by the end of his travels, I am worn out and ready for a little break. Some alone time, if you will, where NO ONE IS TOUCHING ME.

This week, however, I have prayed for patience and a real enjoyment of my kids even if I am tired. And what do ya know? It's been working! 

Last night I let Caroline sleep with me and she wanted to go to sleep cuddled up next to me, holding my hand. I melted. (Unusual for me--I am more of a "let's stay on our side of the bed" kind of girl by the end of the day. Sweet, I know) I kept thinking that these days of her wanting to snuggle with me and tell me everything are surely getting shorter. We laid in my bed for 2 hours awake giggling, watching TV, and talking. I would love to freeze her right now--old enough to hang out with, young enough that she still wants to hang out with me.

This morning, Bo and Sascha were so content to burrow under a blanket with me and watch Dora. No fighting, no squirming, just cuddles and hugs and a few giggles. My heart felt so full. I know that's cheesy, but some days with 4 kids leave my heart less than full. (Probably my fault and not theirs, but that's just the truth.) I almost cried when Bo insisted on carrying his birthday cupcakes into school all by himself because he "is sooo strong, Mommy!" And I didn't even mind that Sascha's ear ache and cough led me to cancel her time with our sitter so we could stay home. She just wanted me to hold her. How can I pass that up? In a couple of years she'll be in school and I will find myself with a disturbing amount of alone time. 

Sweet Tru has a field trip tomorrow. In the past, I couldn't go with him on field trips because he flipped out when they were over and I left. He's grown up a lot and I feel comfortable going and leaving. They are going to see Rock and Roll Cinderella and the parent ticket cost $10. I don't know how Tru knew that, but when I told him I was chaperoning his class, he threw his arms around me and said, "MOMMY! THANK YOU FOR PAYING $10 MORE SO YOU CAN BE WITH ME!" I hadn't thought twice about it, but at that moment, I would have paid 10x that amount for all it meant to him.

My babies are sweet and I am so thankful that as we near the end of our time alone, we can just look forward to seeing Daddy--as opposed to "Oh, thank goodness he is home because Mommy was about to LOSE it!"

Now this little yummy is tapping my shoulder for some attention and I am going to give it to her

A few facts

#1- I am officially dissolving Mommy Monday . . . if I have a mommy topic, I will address it no matter what the weekday, but feeling like I needed to come up with something mommy related was creating mild anxiety for me starting Sunday afternoon. (Draw your own conclusions about how I put too much importance on self-imposed topics for 20-something people who may or may not even read it or care.)

#2- Bo informed me Monday that you can only have a cough when you are "yittle". I wish that someone had told me that last February when I coughed til I puked at a wedding.

#3- Tru likes to play the "try and hold it all day" game with himself at school. Apparently, this is where you don't use the bathroom all day and then on the way home nearly come out of your skin trying not to pee your pants, hoping that Mommy doesn't hit too many bumps or take too long turning the alarm off when you get there.

#4- Last week, Bo had to sit in time out at school. When I asked him why, he said he didn't know, but that it was NOT because he hit Jenna. (Sorry, Ronnie. We are working on the whole not hitting girls thing.)

#5- Sascha played at a friends house last week and told me while she was there (and I quote):
"I tried (cried), Mollie Tate tried (cried). We tried todedder (cried together). Den Mrs. Amy make me feel better. I know Mrs. Amy. She my udder best friend. You my best friend, too, Mommy."

Oh, Sascha

The following conversation occurred between Sascha and I today after I found fresh "tattoos" on her arms and feet:

Me: Sascha, bring Mommy the marker you are using to write on yourself.

Sascha: Don't want to.

Me: Sascha Jane, bring Mommy the marker or you will get a spank for disobeying.

Sascha: Awwww right. (turns and walks a few steps, then comes back) Can't get marter.

Me: Why not?

Sascha: Cause it gone. It flied away.

Me: Sash, markers can't fly.

Sascha: Yeah, they can. It went outside and flied away.

FYI, creative lying gets you in a little less trouble around here. Not much, but a little.

Brain Overdrive

My brain is feeling a lot like my computer . . . maxed out with information and out of space to store anything new. I'm fairly certain that I have contracted a severe case of adult onset ADD.

For example . . . this morning I was asking Josh how to delete some things from the computer so I can add pictures and have more than one internet window open without my computer freaking out and force quitting applications. Anyway, I needed to get the power cord for the computer (which was in our bedroom). I walked into our bedroom and noticed that the bed I started making 3 times was still unfinished, walked past the bag from our trip where the power cord was and went to the bathroom, walked past the bag again and went back towards the kitchen when I remembered the whole trip had been about getting the cord.

Sigh. I can't tell you how often I start unloading the dishwasher only to remember I need to move clothes to the dryer only to realize that the dog needs to go out and get distracted by something on my desk and an hour later walk back into the kitchen to a half empty dishwasher.

All of that was to say that I didn't think I had enough brain space to put together a post, but felt bad being MIA 3 days this week.

Obviously, I can still ramble.

We are enjoying a bit of a break from school. Hopefully, next week I will have the ability to form complete thoughts and sentences again.

Have a great weekend!

Ironies of my life

*I hate bees and wasps and all bugs with stingers. I just trapped one in my blinds and then killed him with counter cleaner . . . and felt really bad about it. Bet he wouldn't have felt bad about stinging me or the Shash.

*Why is it when you are needing to dig around in your purse or throw something back to your kids while the light is red, it is the shortest light ever, but when you have someone who needs to use the bathroom or feels sick or are running late, you get stuck at every red light and are the LAST of the light sequences to turn green?

*I can't stay awake on the couch and can't fall asleep in the bed.

*The thing I most meant to wash is the one thing that doesn't make it to the machine.

Anyone else? It's not that I'm having a bad day at all--it's just for whatever reason, I am more aware of these little ironies today. Oh Alanis, how right you were . . .

Come to think of it, there was rain on my wedding day, hmmm....maybe that should have tipped me off.

Just love my boogers

We are (no surprise) on repeat issues here at Casa Bass . . . instilling new chore/responsibility/expectations and taking care of legitimately sick kiddos leaves me drawing a blank on a new mommy monday topic. So instead, here are a few thoughts, observations, and moments from this morning:

Bo and Sascha have great imaginations. They can play with anything, anywhere. Right now, they are playing either Ni Hao Kai Lan or Yo Gabba Gabba with their food. And eating the characters. Sascha just said, "Oh no, Rintoo just went into Shasha's mouf!"

Tru and Sascha both woke up croupy/coughy/snotty. Tru has been an excellent snuggler, and unlike faking sick Tru, is extremely low maintenance.

Sascha just ran all out (naked) to the bathroom to go peepee and wiped out (think Carrie on the Little House on the Prairie intro). I heard thud thud thud splat and then saw her little blond head pop up "I otay! I otay!!"

Bo is walking around with his muscley Spiderman costume under his clothes. He looks freakishly built. Like that little weight lifting kid that made all the talk show rounds a few years back.

I am caught in this wonderfully bittersweet world with Caroline where she is growing up and I am enjoying it despite my sadness that she is growing up. Little things like her saying, "I mean, Mommy, I tell you EVERYTHING!" melt me and give me a little grace for when she rolls her eyes and acts like a teenager. Or looking over on the occasional ride to school when I let her sit up front and thinking how fun it keeps getting even though I grieve the very idea of the day when I am car seatless.

Today, my productivity around the house is a little slower thanks to the sweet little people and I am not minding it a bit because they are precious and the moments are fleeting.

At least I feel that way right now. Check in with me around 6:30 when we are all anxiously awaiting Josh/Daddy and dinner and I am counting down til baths and bed.

I'll still love them, but I will love the idea of them even more while they sleep. Which must be how we wake up the next morning with clean slates.

Customer Service

I don't know if it's just me, but as I am getting older, I seem to expect more from people at restaurants and stores. Maybe it's the effort to drag my kids places or the literal cost it takes to go alone, but when I am in a place that says it offers a service of some sort, I would like to receive it.

Last night, I loaded up the burb with my four kids and a buddy of Tru's and we drove to Little Caesar's for a couple of Hot N Ready pizzas. We pulled up to the drive through window and sat there for several minutes before anyone even walked by the window. Dude walked by and looked at me but kept going. Then, a minute or so later, he walked back by and looked at me like he was kind of annoyed I was still there. I heard shouting inside and a minute or so more passed before another guy walked by. Pause. Wait. Wait. Wait. And there he went again, also put out to see me still sitting there.

Did I mention I had 5 HUNGRY kids in the back seat?

So, really, I'm not sure my standards are too high--I mean, honestly, a mere acknowledgement would have made me pretty happy. A "someone will be right with you, ma'am" would have gone a loooong way. But, no. So we drove off and I ordered Dominoes from my phone and it got to the house a few minutes after we did for just a few dollars more than the little cheapers would have cost.

Then there were the ever so helpful (sarcasm intended) Home Depot associates in Little Rock. I went to look at some carpet samples for an area rug I want made. When I got home, Josh had a couple of questions about the process. So he called the store. The associate in flooring who answered didn't know the answers and wasn't interested in asking anyone else in the department. This was clear by the way he kept saying, "Pffff, yeah, I don't know."

Josh called the North Little Rock store and got a guy who answered all his questions and gave him the name and number of a place that could do the things Home Depot could not.

I called back tonight to make sure they had the carpet in stock and that it would still be on sale tomorrow and when I didn't hear the lady answer at first, I was met with a "HELLLLLLOOOOO? CAN I HELP YOU?"

Yeah. It didn't sound like she wanted to help me. It sounded like she wanted to smack me.

Once they finally picked up in flooring, the associate I think told me (her words were short and sweet, but not so much sweet) that they didn't have it anymore and it was on clearance and gone.

I called North Little Rock and got another adorable and kind and helpful person who went to check and answered all my questions.

So the moral of the story is get your pizza from Domino's, your supplies from the North Little Rock Home Depot, and don't hurt my feelings or I'll blog about you!

What day is it?

My week has run together . . . maybe it's because I haven't slept enough this week to distinguish between days, but I can't remember when I posted last and was thinking that it had been several days, but no, it was day before yesterday.

I can hardly believe it. But I looked back and double checked it. Less than 48 hours ago I posted my last entry.

In that time, we have been busy, busy people! By 9:00 this morning, I was so impressed with all I had done, I almost called it a day. Alas, the children in my life were not on board with that game plan, so I kept going.

Part of our business and tiredness also stems from this gal:

That's right! Caroline and I loaded up and went to see Taylor Swift in concert. She was well worth every penny we paid to be there, too. That girl puts on quite a show and changed more than a Kardashian bride. The sets were amazing and fun and she seems adorable and as down to earth as you can be when you have over 13,500 people screaming your name at concerts all over the world.

My original post (written in my head at the concert) was much more enthusiastic and wordy. My tired, 2 days later thoughts, however, are that I adored the time with my girl and would drive somewhere in the semi-close vicinity (think Dallas, Nashville, etc) to see this concert again. Loved, loved, loved her.

Happy Birthday, Nana/Mom/Becky

Today is my mom's birthday! This picture was taken on Caroline's 7th birthday (I think) doing one of the things Mom and I love doing together--getting a pedicure!

Happy Birthday, Mom (Nana/Becky) . . . You are by far one of the MOST SELFLESS people I know. You would give everything you have away and no one would ever be the wiser. You sacrificed so much for me and never asked for a thank you or expected anything in return. You were the best carpool mom, too--snacks and parks and always the first car to fill up for field trips. I remember sitting in the car eating lunch with you in elementary school and everyone was so jealous. Then sitting in your car eating breakfast before junior high while you prayed over me and gave me a pep talk. I don't remember much from those years, but I DO remember that. Then, of course, our famous Wendy's breakfasts in high school. Hey, they may have driven me crazy, but they worked!

Our home was always warm and well kept and welcoming. There were homemade cookies, cut up fruits and veggies, fresh bread and hot meals (breakfast and dinner). I never ran out of clean underwear or matched socks. The towels were folded and fresh and the floors spic and span. As a mom and house wife, I am more and more amazed by these feats. Especially since I never remember SEEING you do them.

I can list almost every birthday party from age 3-18 because you made me feel so special and loved.

You read Proverbs to me while I ate breakfast, prayed for me while I was at school (and out at night too) and held me to standards that were important even when I didn't understand them.

You say I am who I am in spite of you . . . I say it's because of you!

You care for others well, put yourself last, and are a defender of truth (and Tru, haha, and Bo).

The Bass family is pretty darn fond of you! Happy Birthday! We love you. I love you!

"Her children stand up and bless her. Her husband praises her: 'There are many virtuous and capable women in the world, but you surpass them all!' Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last; but a woman who fears the Lord will be greatly praised. Reward her for all she has done. Let her deeds publicly declare her praise." - Proverbs 31:28-31

Mommy Monday--Playing sick or fo real?

Caroline is quite dramatic. This has its benefits--it's part of why she enjoys dance so much and why she is pretty darn good at it. It makes her laugh harder at things. Her love of drama comes with a love of the arts and she sat in awe and complete happiness last year when we went to see Wicked.

But, with the drama comes the D-RAMA FOR YOUR MAMA. The stubbed toe that requires ice and a 2 hour limp. The fake (yet tearfully productive) cry that I can spot a mile away. And the requirement for me to walk a fine line between sending a sick girl to school (because I didn't believe her) or letting a well girl stay home "sick" and feel like a fool when she is doing pirouettes by 10 a.m.

In kindergarten, Caroline became BFFs with the nurse because she "needed" to go so often. After a fundraising event where Josh met the nurse and learned just how frequent (and unnecessary) her visits were, we spent a week or so telling her the story of the little boy who cried wolf over and over again, explaining that one day she was going to really be sick and we wouldn't believe her. NOT KIDDING, a week later, Caroline "didn't feel good" and we called bull. I was pregnant with Sascha and so so so so so  sick. Josh had agreed to work from home that morning to let me spend a little longer in bed. He took Caroline to school despite her protests, and as he walked back in the house, the nurse called to let us know Caroline had barfed all over the place. Whoops. Turned out she had the flu and slept for 26 straight hours. It was a great lesson to refer back to, though. (And I was slightly scarred by the whole event. How did I miss that as her mother?! The guilt goblin had a field day with me.)

Today, Caroline (who has been on anitbiotics since Friday afternoon for a potential case of strep--rapid test was negative, but Doc thought it looked streppy and wanted to get a jump on it in case the longer culture came back positive) tried to pull every heart string I own. She cried, she claimed her tummy felt sick, like she could totally throw up or gag (she had eaten 2 yogurts and some grits, I knew she wasn't really nauseous), she said her head hurt and her throat hurt. Yada, yada, yada. Even if the test came back positive, she's no longer contagious and she isn't running fever, and I know she perks up when she wants to, I just think that she wanted a personal day.

Now I am not above taking a day off of school because you need a break. I get that and we do that. But, today was not a day when I felt she should get to. I let her sleep in and go an hour or so late, but I made her go. You would have thought that she was going to the guillotine . . . her fake cry, the dramatic sobs, the faux sick shuffle. Emotionally, I was ping ponging between sympathy and guilt and frustration and annoyance. I hugged her and she asked if the Tylenol would settle her stomach. I said not really then offered her the rest of my Sonic Diet Coke from earlier this morning.

A spark in her eyes and a hint of a smile.

Then, her daddy let her sit in the front seat for the ride to school and as they backed out of the driveway she was all smiles and big waves. Her troubles forgotten, her illness on the mend thanks to some Diet Coke and the front seat.

(The Diet Coke part I get. I really, really do.)

What are your sickly standards?