Traveling Mama

I'm feeling excited, and a bit nervous, about my upcoming adventure sans kids. It's the way I feel before scrap weekends, or any time that I am away from them for more than an hour or two. On the one hand, I CAN'T WAIT to leave bright and early tomorrow morning without having to fix breakfast for anyone, or remind anyone to put on their shoes or jackets, help with seat belts, prepare water cups, fix anyones hair (other than mine), and all the other minutiae that accompanies leaving the house. I only have to pack for myself. I'm bringing along several books (one I'm almost finished, and another for the flight home) that do not have any pictures on the pages--grown up reading. I am planning what yummy beverage I'm going to choose from Starbucks (skim Chai latte or skim, sugar free, cinnamon latte?), probably grande, but who knows, maybe I'll get a venti! And once I arrive in Baltimore, I get to see my beloved sister and her family, and then I get to spend some time with my parents at a dear, childhood friend's wedding. All sans kids! Sigh. It sounds heavenly.

But then there's the other part of me, the mommy part, that is feeling a bit nervous about going away. Not that I am not completely confident that Kevin will hold down the fort wonderfully. I know that he will have a great weekend with the kids, and that they will have a great time with him. I don't have to worry about the things some moms do before leaving their children with their husbands--he knows their routine without my having to write it down, he can safely pick out their clothes, he isn't afraid to take them out to eat (he's not real big on cooking dinner while I'm away), he is as strict and consistent a disciplinarian as I am. So I'm not nervous about this part of the leaving. It's the silly, irrational stuff that has me a little nervous. Like, what if something happens to me and I never make it back home again? Or what if Ryan loses his first tooth while I'm gone? Or what if one of them gets hurt and I'm not there to kiss and comfort them? It's the little things that are completely out of my control that give me tiny flutters in my belly every so often. It is at these times that I am grateful for my faith in God, and my confidence that He is looking out for my children when I'm not, and that whatever is meant to happen will so there's no sense in my worrying about it.

At any rate, I am looking forward (mostly) to my little excursion, and can't wait for it to hurry up and get here!

(added after the trip)
My beautiful sister and thoroughly kissable neice

















My dear friend (not to mention longest--34 years-ack!) Susan and her new husband Chris

TEN MORE MINUTES!!!

Only 10 more minutes until the newest season of 24 begins! I can not begin to tell you how excited I am. How lame am I?! But I just love this show, might have to do with that crush I've had on Kiefer Sutherland for almost 20 (ack!) years now... He's just so hot, and as Jack Bauer, he's even hotter... Tick, tick, tick, tick only 8 minutes to go until the fastest hour (but longest day) in TV begins. Again.

We're Done.

I can remember when I was first bitten by the "baby bug" when I was around 27 years old, or so. Every time I'd see a baby, I'd just go "awww" and would find them irresistable. I knew I wasn't quite ready for one of my own, but looked forward to the time when Kevin and I would start a family. Those feeling intensified for several years, and then we were blessed with our first child, Ryan. I was positively smitten. Babies were wonderful! I loved babies! I knew I definitely wanted more, not right away, mind you, but I knew we weren't done yet.

Fast forward a few years, and we decided to try for another little bundle. I had decided that I would really like 3 kids altogether, Kevin was happy with one, but decided 2 wouldn't be bad. I can remember joking with him that I'd just have twins and then I could have my 3. Huh. Guess I need to be more careful about the things I say in the future... Pregnancy with twins was tough. I was fortunate to not have to deal with bedrest and premature babies, but carrying 13 1/2 pounds of babies, plus all that other gunk around really wreaked havoc on my poor little 5'1" frame! We were pretty sure, like nearly 100%, that we wouldn't want anymore children, but I hesitated to do anything to make that decision permanent during my c-section. What if I lost a child and we wanted to have another? I didn't want to deal with the added grief of knowing that we wouldn't be able to have another. Silly? Probably, but in my hormonal state, it really did make sense. Honest.

Since then, there have been a few times that I've thought it would be fun to have a baby around the house again. Not that we would actively be trying to have one, but if it happened, I thought it wouldn't be too bad. And honestly, if something did happen, and God decided to bless (ahem) us with another child, I know we would love him or her as much as we do our other kiddos.

That being said, this week I had a weird stomach virus thing. It started off with dizziness on Wednesday. And from Thursday to Saturday I had a lot of nausea. No worshipping of the porcelain god, just intense waves of nausea and some of the "d" word mess. It felt an awful lot like morning sickness (you know, the all day variety). It made me quite nervous. Even though AF had just ended her visit on Wednesday, and Kevin and I are quite careful, I started thinking "what if I'm pre.....?" (sorry, not gonna say the whole word outloud--see the earlier reference to twins...). The intense relief I felt when I woke up this morning feeling relatively normal again has shown me (once again) that the baby bug infection has worn off of this mama. And I have to say that it actually feels quite nice to know that we're done with the baby-phase of our lives.

Gross. Gross. Gross.

If you don't like gross, yucky, poo stories, then don't read any further. You've been warned....


Okay, silly me, I thought that my days of ooky poo-related stories, at least current ones, were behind me now that my twins are potty trained. Unfortunately today that myth was debunked as the frantic call of Katy rang out from upstairs: "Mommy! I made a poop in my pants! Help!" My stomach sank as I climbed the stairs, weighing whether I should be moving quickly to minimize any spreading of the poo against the impending nastiness that I was fairly sure I was going to face.

You see, when Katy has too much juice, her little body does not respond well, and it takes several days to fully recover. In the meantime, she has, shall we say, loose poos... According to her version of this incident, she thought she was just going to toot. Oh, if only that had been all!

My first instinct after pulling down her pants was to put her on the potty, in case there was any more, even though she told me that she was all done. I didn't realize that it was ALL over the backs of her legs (and now the potty), until she slid over the potty seat a bit too easily... So I gingerly lifted her from the potty, and slowly began pulling down her pants, thinking to myself that these leggings and undies were headed to the trash receptacle.

But then Katy noticed that the poo was all over her BRAND NEW DORA panties (!) and burst into tears. So after moving her ook-covered little body to the tub, and washing her off and then drying her and re-applying liberal quantities of Eucerine creme to her dry little body (did I mention that she had just been bathed this morning?), I began cleaning and disinfecting the potty and the tub. And then it was time for her clothes. Urgh. Thank goodness for the utility sink. And for a washing machine.

Ah well, it could have been worse. She could have needed to "toot" while we were at the grocery store earlier today...