Post (Memorial Day) Weekend

Even though it's almost the next weekend. What day even is it anymore?

It's Wednesday. I've "suddenly" realized that about 14 different times today. Holiday weekends always throw me for a loop. Not to mention this entire week is throwing me off: virtually all of the kids' activities have ceased, the summer ones have yet to begin. There is not much in the way of "normal" this week, and the holiday that started it all off doesn't help.

Neither did days like yesterday's weather. Although it's actually some of my favorite kind of weather. (Relax, you summer-loving crazies.) I'm excited for summer, sure, but another day of sweatshirts and jeans was just fine by me.

Though that wasn't the case last Friday, which was probably the nicest day of the extended weekend:

(Pro tip: I like to set up "stations" around the yard. I got the idea from the kids' outdoor classroom at school. The sandbox and playset are always there, of course, but then I add a couple of other things: the water table and t-ball set, chalk or their bikes, and they rotate through playing with everything and do a pretty good job of staying active and playing by themselves and with each other. #parentingwin)

Sunday evening Tyson and I sat on our front porch and watched the sunset. And a storm roll in. Basically simultaneously. We heard thunder far off in the distance though half of our sky was a brilliant orange.

Monday brought out the wearing of the red, white, and blue.

It also brought out these angel children that ACTUALLY ALL SAT STILL and LOOKED AT THE CAMERA AT THE SAME TIME.

(OTHER ATTEMPTS:)

Did you know that this guy is fifteen months old, now? Fifteen months. He looks and acts more like he's in eighteen-month territory, but that's due to his jump back up to the 80th percentile for height. And his fearlessness and playground-climbing skills actually put him more into three-year old territory, since he thinks he's just like the other two that are closest to his size in this house.

It also brought a first campfire experience (or "firecamp" as Caden called it)...

...and, most important of all, it brought the first taste of s'mores.

In case you can't tell, they approved.

("Say 's'mores'!" Brooklyn: Yeah, look here it is. Caden: Leave me alone I'm busy EATING it.)

Stupid

I left them this morning.

On a sunny, unremarkable Tuesday morning, while all three were playing more or less happily on the rug in that gorgeous morning sunlight, I left them.

Okay, it’s not so dramatic. I am coming back. Tyson was taking over. He was giving me some time to get away to focus and rest, to write and consume some caffeine.

But somehow the weight of it hit me this morning as I lay with them on the rug and stacked a few blocks.

“These years go so fast!” they say. “Don’t blink or you’ll miss it!” or “Enjoy every moment!” Whoever they are.

And yet all I wanted to do was get away. I didn’t want to sit there for another moment. I needed to refuel. Some reading, some writing, my favorite coffee shop. Computer screen, pen to paper.

And yet all I wanted to do was stay. Enjoy the vignette of the kids on the rug in the sunlight. Stack more blocks, watch the toddlers work together, the baby knock it all down. Have little bodies back up into my lap to sit, all in a pile, as we read a stack of books.

I’m with them basically 24/7/365 and then feel guilty when the time comes to take a couple of hours away.

Some days, all I can think about is getting the hell out of here, (another long stretch of the 3 o’clock afternoon hour), and then when the time comes, I want nothing more than to stay right here.

I want my coffee to stay hot (or, this time of year, cold) and to eat my breakfast alone, and then I wonder where they all went.

I only want the house to be quiet (just go to sleep already!), and then I miss the chaos.

Motherhood is stupid sometimes.

Post (Madison!) Weekend

We'd been scheming for awhile on a trip back to Madison sometime this year, probably in May or June. Then a couple of months ago, we received an invite for a friend's graduation party which was this past weekend. That sealed the deal. A kill-two-birds-with-one-stone kind of thing. We began planning where we wanted to go, which old stomping grounds to revisit, where to eat, who to see.

In all the ways I thought the weekend might go wrong: kids melting down over crazy schedules, sleepless nights in a different place, car trouble, etc., the thought that the weather might completely crap out on us never even crossed my mind. 

Guys, the weather completely crapped out on us.

Rain and cold and wind and awful and it basically felt like March. A terrible day in March. Saturday, our only full day in Madison and the day of our friend's OUTDOOR party, was just the worst. The twins cried basically the entire 40 minutes we were at the event because they were so cold and miserable. Tyson had to take them into our van with a plate of food just to get out of the wind and the cold. Other people were showing up with their kids dressed in full winter gear: hats, puffy coats, gloves. Guess what I didn't pack for a weekend trip to Madison at the end of May? Anything at all required for winter. Especially since when I was packing, on Thursday, the forecast was 70 degrees and rainy, but by Friday morning as we were driving, (aka TOO FREAKING LATE), the forecast had dropped to 50 degrees and rainy. Plus wind. Cool.

It killed most of our plans. No outdoor farmer's market, no trips to the park, no beer garden visits, not a chance of even taking a walk. All of our favorite Madison things are outside! Oh well. We're taking this as a sign to plan another trip soon.

The weather did give us some indoor library time at one of our favorite spots. Caden and Brooklyn basically learned how to slide on this very slide, yet when Brooklyn saw it she said, "Oh wow, there's a slide in here!" The way she said it was surprised, like she had completely forgotten. Which, I mean, she probably had, but my heart still broke just a little.

Meeting, or as the case may be, re-meeting, friends, both old...

...and new.

Sunday. We had a small window of time after church before we headed out of town. It wasn't the warmest weather in the world but it wasn't raining. We'll take it. We headed over to The Terrace.

Now this...

...this felt like we were in Madison.

(Did I wear these on purpose? The answer is a definite yes.)

(Do these look a little familiar?)

"I want to go in one of those boats!" is all Caden kept saying. With our current Moana-obsession, his entire life's goal now is to ride in a sailboat. Though he did launch into an entire "How Far I'll Go" musical theater routine when he was on the dock with Tyson. (Sadly not caught on video.)

I'm happy to report that the ice cream is still as good as ever.

As is the beer.

You really can't terrace anywhere else.

Distracted

I need to pee.

I walk to the bathroom. The door is shut. We often keep it closed so the baby's hands stay out of such exciting things as full toilet paper rolls and the toilet water. It’s shut, but as I put my hand on the knob and push, I realize it’s also locked. Locking the door and closing it behind: a newfound three-year-old skill.

I walk to the kitchen, in search of a toothpick to pop the lock open.

I pass the high chair, and the kitchen table, and the mess on the floor, still from lunch. Crackers, grilled cheese crusts, a crushed raspberry or two. Gross. Where’s something to wipe it up? I head towards the sink and the paper towels. Wait - that's not what I was in here for. What was I doing? Oh, right.

I need to pee.

To do that I need a toothpick. Of course.

Toothpick in hand, I make it to the bathroom door, put the toothpick in the little hole and - magic! - it jumps open in my hand. There’s a dirty towel on the counter next to the sink. I should really wash towels. And the toilet paper needs a refill. You noticed that yesterday, remember? But the stash of extras which are usually beneath the sink have been depleted, so now a new roll of toilet paper requires a trip upstairs to the linen closet in the master bathroom. Why does this seem so complicated? Do we need a new toilet paper storage system? I don’t want a shelf in this bathroom. I mean I guess we could put something over in the corner. But what would we put there? Extra towels? A powder room doesn't need that many hand towels. I should wash towels. Towels = laundry. Wait, laundry. Speaking of laundry...

I need to check on the laundry.

Switch the clothes in the washer over to the dryer. Remove the load from the dryer and throw it in a basket. Leave the basket in the laundry room because if I try to haul it upstairs to the proper bedroom right now I’ll have three over-eager helpers to follow.

It’s almost naptime. What was it that I wanted to accomplish before naptime today? Switching that laundry over was one thing. Going to the bathroom was another. Oh, the oven. I need to preheat the oven to make -

“I need help!” a voice calls. Help with Play-Doh. I take the lids off, make sure the toddlers are situated at the kitchen table, each with an equal amount of grayish-grossish-who-even-remembers-what-colors-we-started-with-anymore Play-Doh.

The baby runs by, headed towards the living room. He has a raspberry and bread crusts smushed between his fists. Where did he get that from?

Oh, right. The lunch remnants on the floor. Well, I guess he took care of those. What was I going to do now? I don’t know.

It’s almost naptime.

I need a nap.

Post (Mother's Day) Weekend

Can't Mother's Day be on a Saturday? Or could we have the Monday after off, too, please? Jumping back into real life again right away on Monday seems kind of harsh after such a beautiful, pampering, celebratory sort of weekend. An extra day to cushion the blow would be so helpful.

And WHAT a weekend. Can we pause and take a moment to talk about the weather for a sec? This was like actual summer weather. MY ARM GOT SUNBURNED. (No, not plural. only one, because only one arm was in the sun. It's super attractive.) Minnesota, you've been kind of sucking in the spring weather department lately, but I'll give you full credit for this weekend.

A few snippets:

Impromptu zoo trip on Friday afternoon.

Self, in a few years when you start to feel sad that they are all grown, just remember how often you had to push a 90+ pound double stretch-limo of a stroller around. Praise the miracle that is them walking all on their own. Feel better? No? Maybe? Good.

Awww...

Saturday passed, with some fun as some friends and I snuck away to treat ourselves to a pedicure. Which also turned into manicures. Because who wanted to go home already? Also: too busy getting pampered for pics. 

Switch gears. I want you to picture that it is Sunday. Mother's Day. Picture breakfast in bed. Except your husband doesn't cook. And your kids are certainly too young to even successfully pour cereal and milk into a bowl. But they still want to give you the breakfast in bed experience. Your only real request was iced coffee. Oh, and you also don't own any fancy pants breakfast trays. Oh yes, your breakfast in bed might look something like this:

And it was delicious.

Is that a high chair tray, you might ask? YES. Yes it is.

Caden and Brooklyn got to sit with me in bed while I dined, though they may have snuck more than their fair share of hashbrown bites. They were quite helpful, telling me to, "take a bite, mommy!" "now take a sip of your coffee!" every five seconds, not concerned about basic physical functions like chewing what was already in my mouth before pushing me to eat or drink more. The second I was done it was all about the presents. They could hardly contain their excitement and Brooklyn already had her present for me partway open before I even got downstairs.

"Wow Caden, did you pick this out yourself?"

"Yup"

"Why did you pick this out?"

"Because I wanted it."

Fair enough.

Again, the WEATHER. Can we bottle it up and keep it this way? For the next six months or so?

Daughter to a mother and mother to a daughter.

Hello, sunburned arm.

Today was right back into the thick of it. Back to tantrums and kisses, play dates and sibling feuds, crumbs and (not enough) caffeine. 

But I wasn't kidding about needing that three day weekend.