Cinderella and Her Shoes....*sigh*

  Saturday was my grocery shopping day.  We were also going to a basketball game for the local team.  It just so happened that The Hubby, Bug, and I all had a shirt/hat/jacket/scarf with the team's logo.  A, however, had outgrown her only team t-shirt over the summer, so I thought that on our way into town we could stop at a consignment shop to look for something for her to wear.

  On the way in I told the kids my plans.  I explained to Bug that since he already had lots of team stuff, we weren't looking for things for him and probably wouldn't buy him anything.

  His response: a very calm, "mmm hmm, yes ma'am."

  I was elated.  No fit.  No whining. I didn't feel like beating my head on the steering wheel.  I spent the next 10 minutes of the drive reveling  in the joyful atmosphere.

  We got to the consignment shop, found A something she could wear (I have recently found a new appreciation for dressing rooms--I love them!  It's so nice for A to be able to try something on and decide then and there whether she hates it and can't wear it because of her SPD) and the entire 30 minutes, Bug was quiet and patient (a great feat for a 5-year-old boy who doesn't love shopping).

  As we headed to check out a sweet voice piped up, "Mommy, can I get something?" It was Bug.  *No!  I shall stick to my guns* I thought.

  "No buddy, remember, you don't need anything," I reminded him.  Then I remembered he did need something.  He was in desperate need of tennis shoes.  His current shoes were so worn through, I could actually stick my finger through the toes.

  I told the kids my plan.  And immediately I was sorry.  So, very sorry.

  "WHAT?!  YOU'RE BUYING HIM SHOES?!," A not-so-calmly yelled (as she stands there with her hair in a messy ponytail--yay for natural curls-- in a khaki skirt, t-shirt, and pink/black snow boots on a 70* day...).

  My shoulders drooped immediately and I mentally kicked myself in the rear (repeatedly).  Why couldn't I have remembered he needed shoes earlier so I could have prepared them before we left?  Why?  Why can't I be perfect?

  See, A is my gift/possession obsessed kid.  That, combined with the fact that she just pushed herself to the limit sensory-wise by trying on clothes and enduring weird fabrics/smells/tags and the fact that she hadn't had her Celexa (anxiety med) before we left (she usually takes it with breakfast, and while I'm not sure that that made a difference in her response, but it certainly didn't help) and the fact that she is shoe obsessed made for a miserable 20 minutes.

  She tensed, crossed her arms, scowled at me and proceeded to tell me in a not-so-calm way that she Loves shoes and that it wasn't fair that I was buying Bug shoes and not her.

  Judging by this reaction, one might think I'm the kind of parent who gives her kids any and everything they ask for.  I don't.  I have never been that parent.  A is 8.  Eight.  We have been having the following conversation for years now.  Just because one kid genuinely needs something doesn't mean the other automatically gets the same thing  That being fair is not equality.  That fair is getting what one needs.

  I reminded her that she has So Many shoes they don't all fit in her shoe drawer (I left out the fact that of the 15 pairs she has, she can only actually wear about 5 thanks to SPD).  I also pointed out the fact that Bug actually Needed shoes...that I could stick my finger through the toes of the ones he had on.

  Now, I would expect that most rational 8 year olds would hear that and think, "oh.  I guess he does need shoes.  I just want them.  Ok, fine." pout a bit, but understand nonetheless.

  But not A.  Oh no.  She continued to present her case.  Over. And over.  And Over.

  So, after explaining the need vs want of the situation and telling her that it was ok for her to be mad, but that her behavior was not acceptable, I quit engaging in *conversation* (argument, really) with her.

  And we survived.   Although I'm quite sure that once we get these kids raised I'll have a permanent facial tick.

There May be Money in Our Future

  Tonight the A and Bug were playing in their room.  Bug asked me if I wanted to come see his office.  I did, and sat down on the makeshift sleeping bag/chair.
  When I asked what his job was, he said "prescriptions."
  He then asked me what prescription I needed.  The first one that came to mind: Prozac (easy name to spell, short word, easy to remember).

  "How do you spell that?" he asks, as he prepares to write each letter as I tell him.
  A said, "what about Zyrtec, Momma?"
  Ah, yes, that would have been a better choice....

  So he wrote me my scripts and I was done.  Future pharmacist?  Perhaps.

  A also had an office.  Her profession?  Therapist.
  She invited me into her office.
  A: So do you have any anxiety?

  And the conversation went  on from there...

  Future therapist?  Maybe

  Now A is writing prescriptions for her patients and those imaginary patients are taking them to Bug to be filled.

  I'm glad I have the ability to see the humor in this whole scenario.

She's "All About that Snack. 'Bout that Snack. No hunger."

  Yesterday was a beautiful day where we live!  We were able to take a picnic to the park, ride bikes, walk some trails, and throw some rocks into the creek.  At the end of January!
  On the way home from the aforementioned outing, and after listening to A yell and sob about snack, the following *conversation* ensued:
  Me:  Ok, you can have some of this peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich.
  A: No! I don't want that.
  Me: it has protein and it's a little sweet, it's the perfect snack.
  A: No!  I don't want that!
  Me:  It's all I have.  It's either that or nothing, kiddo. *talking to the Bug and his friend in the back*: You boys want some of this pb and j?
  Them:  yeah!

  I divided one fold-over sandwich in half and passed it back to the boys.  When they were finished, I faced the following dilemma:  I had one fold-over left.  Do I offer the boys seconds or do I save it just in case A decides she wants some?
  I waited a few minutes and then offered the boys seconds.
  Sure enough, A decided she wanted some.
  I divided the fold over into thirds and passed it back, explaining that this was all I had.

  A:  What?  But I want seconds!  That's not fair that the boys got seconds and I don't!

  *Insert a 5 minute fit about how unfair it was that the boys got seconds and she didn't [on a snack she didn't want in the first place]*

  Whew.  SMH.

Worst Mom on the Block

  Valentine's Day.  What fun!  There are boxes to be made, cards to be chosen, crafts to be done, and school parties to enjoy.

  I think it's safe to say that by now we all know that I'm not the most organized person.  I'm not always on top of things.  I forget a Lot.  I'm not a planner.  Like the title of my blog, I take life one day at a time, sometimes even one hour at a time.  Please keep that in mind as you read on...

  

  So Bug goes to preschool on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 8:30-11:30.  The Thursday before Valentine's Day was his party (makes sense, huh?).

  I knew this...it was floating vaguely somewhere in the back of my mind.  

  However, it was only after Bug had been home from school, had lunch, and was laying down for rest time that it dawned on me: I bet he should have taken some Valentines to school today.

  Ugh!

  I felt like a Complete Idiot (pretty sure everyone agrees I totally earned the capital "I").  

  So, while he was able to enjoy the festivities and eat goodies and get Valentines from all of his sweet little friends, those friends got nothin' from my kid.

  Thankfully he's not the kid who cares much.  That's certainly not an excuse for my faux pas, but thankfully he won't be going to therapy over it.  

  Lord willing, I'll have a chance to redeem myself in about 351 days.  Not to worry, I'll be ready.

  That's probably the most heinous mommy crime I've committed in a while.  I should be good for another year, right?

  ~Alexis

Twitter?? Scary!

  Ok, I'm going to let you all in on a secret.  I joined Twitter.  The thought of that terrifies me a bit.  Fast pace.  Short, concise tweets.  New hieroglyphics to learn.  New password.  New user name.
  Whew.  I get a bit light headed thinking about it.

  But I want to get my blog out there and was assured by Alyssa over at Near Normalcy that Twitter was a great way to do that, so there ya have it.

  I'm a survivor (and a wee bit dramatic), so I'm determined to learn it all.
  Feel free to follow me, but lower your expectations while I learn.  Some day I'll master it and be great, but until then, please feel free to pass along any Twitter insight and wisdom!
  You can find me at: @AJfrizzell (I think.  I hope.)

  So, the first part of this was all fun and games.  But interestingly joining Twitter actually brought on a panic attack.
  Gross!

  I was researching it and it's highly suggested that to be successful at Twitter, one needs to tweet about things they're knowledgeable about.
  So then there's the question: What am I good at?  What do I know about?

  That's what caused the panic attack.  I couldn't figure out what I'm good at, or what I like, or who I am.
  EEEEEK!

  After I calmed down, I did a bit more looking.  Both self-reflection, and at other tweeters.
  First, I looked at me.  What do I enjoy?  I enjoy kids.  I love crafting, doing projects, reading, and exploring together.  I love working for the local MOPS group--last year I was with 1-2 year olds and this year I'm with infants--I love both age groups.  I love preschoolers.  I love the knitting class for 3rd-5th graders I'm assisting with at our home school group.  I love kids.
  I think that will be my main focus for Twitter.  Kids.  Quotes about, things to do with, humorous interactions I have with them in my life, etc.

  Second, I checked out a few other tweeters and saw that there are other things to tweet about than news and techie stuff (thank goodness!--I would totally fail at those).  So I'm gonna put a bit more focus into who I follow and work my way into the loop.

  Now that I have that all cleared up, I feel a bit more confident about Twitter.

  Happy Tweeting!

  ~Alexis

Stickin' With It...

  I've been monitoring my blog views...it *may* have been an obsession for a week or two....
  Anyway, I noticed the other day that the page views dropped drastically (not that they were very high.  If you start out with 10 or less page views/day and go up to an average between 60-200, that's kinda big, though).
  Then I realized I haven't been keeping my kitchen posts going.
  Ah, you guys just want to see how messy it gets, huh? I quit posting pictures and you quit reading!  Just kidding...
  As much as I would love for the content of my blog to help, encourage, amuse, or advise someone, it's become such a therapeutic activity for me to write that even if the traffic stops, I'll keep on writing.

  For those of you who know me know that I kind of have a hard time completing projects.  I get excited and motivated and attack it.  And then I lose interest.  And then the project gets hidden away and forgotten (the reason I have yet to finish knitting a baby blanket I've started--I love the idea of knitting a blanket, but let's face it, I get bored with 9x9 wash cloths and potholders...).

  So take my kitchen picture project.  I thought it was a brilliant idea.  I was excited!  I was motivated!  I made it to day 15 (half-way to my goal!) and sent an excited text to a few friends because I Stuck With It For 15 Days!
 
  Then I get to picture 21 and 6 days go by before another.  Sorry 'bout that!
  It did kind of fall by the wayside.  I think perhaps I was avoiding the end of the project.  I love adding a visual to my blog, but what to do after the kitchen?  Sure I could keep posting pics of different areas of my house (believe me, the kitchen isn't the only area that gets a wee bit neglected), but that seemed a bit redundant.  By now most of you get that I'm real, that I'm not perfect, but that I'm still pretty awesome ;)

  So if anyone has any ideas of any good photo projects for me to add to the blog, I'd love to hear them!

  That brings me to my main point.  At the risk of sounding like a hypochondriac, I'm pretty sure I have ADD.  I would say "who knew?!" but it appears that several people in my life had a bit of a clue.  As usual, I tend to be the last one to know these things.
  I freely admit it may not be ADD, but something needs to change.  Whether it's my meds, adding a diagnosis, or something else, I'm not sure.  But I plan to find out.

  The Hubby gets annoyed when I make a comment and he asks what I said (let's face it, we women have to repeat a Lot of what we say to our husbands...), and I look at him for a second trying to remember, but I can't.  His response is always an incredulous "You just said it 3 seconds ago!"
  That happens A Lot to me.

  Another annoying thing (because not being able to remember what I said 3 seconds ago, and not being able to follow through with projects isn't enough) is spending a solid 5 minutes lost deep in thought, really working through a problem, or creating something in my head, and 30 seconds after returning to the real world, I can't remember what I was thinking about.
  Grr!
 
  I actually saw my new nurse practitioner last week and was telling her about my suspected ADD (something I've put a lot of thought and time into researching) and she asked why I thought I might have it.  I honestly couldn't remember why.
  But not to worry, I didn't want to look flaky in front of her, so I came up with a valid reason.  It was a bit thin, but there ya have it!
 
  Enjoy the new kitchen picture that's up ;)  I'll finish it and do 30 days.  Really, I will!

  ~Alexis

Wednesday Go Home, You're Drunk.

  Yesterday was Wednesday.  We as a society have embraced Wednesdays with open arms since they represent the week being half over.
  I must say by noon yesterday I was giving my Wednesday the cold shoulder.

  It all started way too early for anything like this.
  I was getting in the fridge for some milk for A's breakfast.  I realized I was reaching for the wrong milk (hers is soy), so I corrected my mistake.
  Oops.
  My ring caught on the handle of our very full gallon-pitcher of tea sending sweet tea cascading down the shelves of the fridge door, all over me, and finally stopping in a large puddle on the floor (which Dog loved drinking).
  Happy Wednesday to me...

  I'm pretty sure this, now lovingly referred to as The Tea Incident, will be referenced a lot.

  So what does one do immediately following something like this?  Post it on facebook and send a text to friends, of course.
  I got my phone out of my sweatshirt pocket and saw it had some tea on it, so I wiped it off.
  As I tried to send my very humorous text, I realized the tea had caused a short (or something) in my phone.  Yes, the tea damaged the phone that was in my Pocket.  Ugh.
  I took the phone apart and put it in rice, hoping that would dry up whatever may have gotten inside.  Unfortunately, while that was a great idea, it was not helpful.
  Not to worry, Wednesday wasn't done with me yet.  The phone will turn on...and even get calls and texts.  But that's where the mocking begins.  You see, there's nothing I can do about those calls/texts.  The buttons won't work.

  The fridge is also suffering some (hopefully) short-term effects...the light-button thingy now sticks, so when one opens the door, it's dark inside for the first few seconds.

  As we all know, I like to look on the bright side of things, so here's my list from The Tea Incident of 2014:
  I got to wipe down all of the condiments that were in those convenient shelves-in-the-door.
  I will be getting a new phone.
  I survived yesterday (there was a point where I wasn't so sure...)

  ~Alexis

Dog

  So I have this dog.  I love him.  He's just so happy.  He's this typical happy-go-lucky kinda guy, and that just makes me happy.

  He's also quirky.  He fits right in to our family.  He has anxiety issues and jumps all over the family room, snapping at imaginary flies when he feels unsettled (which is rather frequently).
  I'm fairly convinced that if he was a human, he'd also have ADHD.

  

  He loves to play in the snow, and we've had a lot of it lately.  He loves to catch the snowflakes as they fall from the sky and has some pretty cool acrobatic moves to get them (and yet he can't learn to sit...).  He loves to eat the snow off the ground.  He loves to dig in the snow.
  Apparently if he was a human, he'd also be a member of the Polar Bear Club.  You know the one where people go swimming outside in the winter...?  Yikes!

  The other day we took a family walk to the lake that's down the hill from our house.  There was snow on the ground, and some ice on the lake.
  Dog was determined to get in the water.  I let him get close at first because 1) I wanted to see what he'd do, 2) I thought he might like a drink, and 3) I thought he'd be surprised at the cold temp.
  Well, I was wrong.
  Dog wanted to swim in the water.  Swim.  In 20 degree weather.  Yep, my pup, a little short-haired Boston terrier/chihuahua mix, wanted to swim.
  I had to fight him to keep him out of the water...even when we walked far away from it, he was pulling to go toward it.

  Now some might deduce from this (and admittedly other incidents in Dog's life with us) that he's not very bright.
  I maintain, however, that it's just a sign of his ADHD.
  Silly pup!

  ~Alexis

My Silly Bug

  Ok, so I know that my kids are quirky.  They make me smile, scratch my head in wonder, leave me baffled, and drive me nuts!
  That's all just part of being a parent.  Sometimes it's fantastically hilarious and other times it's annoyingly frustrating.

  I thought I'd share one of Bug's biggest quirks. It's funny, but also a bit puzzling.

  Bug likes to smell things.  Sure everyone loves to smell pleasant things: cookies in the oven, flowers, perfume, soap, etc.
  But Bug doesn't stop there.  He loves to smell birthday cakes that are fully frosted and waiting to have the candles lighted.  He frequently gets frosting on the tip of his nose.
  He likes to smell books.  I'm sure we've all noticed the smell of a library and the books that we check out kind of have a smell of their own.  Bug loves to smell library books, Bibles, song books, and coloring books.  He doesn't just notice the smell and move on.  He opens the book wide, jams his nose against the spine, and takes a big whiff (or two...or three).

  In case that wasn't enough.  He also enjoys sniffing his gum before he puts it in his mouth.

  I think I saved the best for last.  It consistently puzzles me and makes me chuckle.
  During communion at Church every Sunday morning he will lean over after I've taken my pinch of the loaf and ask to smell it.  He doesn't smell the piece I have in my hand, rather, I eat it, then lean over and cup his face in my hands and he smells my breath.  Weird?  Definitely.  Funny?  I certainly get a laugh out of it.  Gross?  Probably.
  He does the same thing when the grape juice is passed.  Last Sunday the look on his face was one of pure contentment.  So. Odd.

  His honorary Nana got him a Scentsy monkey for his 4th birthday.  To some that might seem like an odd gift for a 4yo boy.  But for my olfaction-obsessed Bug it was perfect!  He loves to smell it, and it doesn't seem quite so weird.

  ~Alexis

Little Squirrel? Are you ok?

  Mom has been making up stories for the kids when she comes to visit.  They're about this sweet, adventurous squirrel who lives in our back yard, named Little Squirrel.

  The kids love it!  Mom's a great story teller.  I love it.  It reminds me of the stories my grandma used to make up for me about Chickory Chick, a little banty rooster.  Grandma even made up a song to go with her stories.

  Now, I have this adorable dog that I convinced The Hubby to let me adopt 9 months ago.  I love Dog (not his real name.  Naturally we were a bit more creative).  He's happy, exuberant, and care free.  He makes me happy.

  Unfortunately he also annoys me from time to time, pretty much for the same reasons that I adore him.

  

  So.  The other day Dog got out.  When he gets out of the house, there's no sense in chasing him since he's fast and has no interest in coming back with all of this freeeeeeeedom! ahead of him.

  This time while he was out, he caught a squirrel.  Gross.

  

  He decided to bring it into the garage before coming inside.  Naturally he dropped it right by the van.

  The kids and I were on our way out....and I had this dead squirrel to deal with.  In 9 years of marriage, I have discovered one of the many perks of having a husband is that he can reach into the disgusting abyss of the garbage disposal, he can kill nasty bugs (you know, crickets and other sketchy creatures), and he can remove dead animals.
  Unfortunately The Hubby wasn't home.

  I had told the kids about the squirrel, but on the way to the van, they stopped to stare at it.

  Now, you probably saw this coming, but I must admit A caught me off guard when she said "Oh No!  Dog killed Little Squirrel!"

  Really?  Of all the animals Mom chose, it had to have been a squirrel.  And of all the wild animals Dog could have killed, it had to be a squirrel.

  Thankfully I'm a quick thinker.  I promptly explained that surely it couldn't be Little Squirrel because she's way too fast for Dog.

  Whew.  Crisis averted!

  But now I had this disgusting dead animal to move. 

  Not to worry, I handled it like an adult.  I briefly contemplated leaving it there and just stepping over it until The Hubby came home in 5 hours, but ultimately decided to move it outside the garage.

I used a 4 foot-long stick to gently roll it out of the way, and I totally sissified the situation by squealing cringing, and squirming the entire time.

  ~Alexis