Adventures with Jesus

It’s Sunday once again and here is the rundown of our church escapades:

1) Emily didn’t want to go to church so I used the acceptable Catholic guilt. ‘Emily, God died for your sins so he wants to see you because you know, he died for you and all.’ And Emily came back with ‘God didn’t die… that was Jesus.’

Well played.

2) Nicholas said he didn’t want to go to church and I tried to explain to him that church can be fun. I said ‘I like singing.’ And Nicholas said ‘I like when we leave.’

3)Vincent wanted to know how Jesus died but when you tell your son that people put nails in his hands and feet, and then he suffocated, it just leads to more questions.

4) Our rule is hands to yourself but Vincent just kept rubbing his head on my arm and purring like a cat.

5) I was praying with my eyes closed and Nicholas tried to look down my shirt. He was successful.

6) Emily thought it would be OK to pick her nose.

7) the boys thought God would want to see them wrestle and body slam each other on the pew.

8) When I pray, I sometimes cry. My kids were scared and when I told them that God was talking to me, they were really alarmed and got defensive…
‘what did he say to you?’

9) My kids told me that God didn’t care if you laid on the pew because he could still see you.

10)Emily saw a picture of Michael the Arc Angel and insisted that it was Batman. Parental fail.

Glad we went to mass. I couldn’t even tell you what the readings were about. Probably because we walked in when the Gospel was being read.

Until next time,

Batman is watching

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Let the Questions Begin

Every morning, I get up and enjoy the silence of the house. Every morning I get up and enjoy my alone time- no questions to answers and no stress.

Each morning I love to take a hot shower and feel the droplets of water drip down my face. The smell of the shampoo fills my nostrils. It’s silent and peaceful. The moment is strong in my mind and my mind is free to breathe- to think.

This morning it was silent and then the silence was broken with ‘daddy? Why are you taking a shower with mommy?’

Whoops.

Until next time,

Pass me my towel please

Death of a Pilgrim

Whenever Vincent has a field trip, I am the mom that decorates his brown, bagged lunch to go along with the theme of the trip but yesterday I didn’t have time.

In the car to school, Vincent mentioned that he couldn’t wait to see what I put on his bag. I felt bad and told him I didn’t have time. He was bummed so I asked him what exactly they were doing on this field trip… I know… mom of the year. Vincent is like ‘I think we are learning about pilgrims and stuff.

So at every red light I drew a little more on his little bag. At the end, I had drawn a cartoon pilgrim that said ‘mmmm… corn!’

Then I picked him up later that afternoon.

‘Hey! How was your trip? Did you like your bag?’ -me
‘Yeah… it was so funny except we didn’t learn about pilgrims.’ -Vincent
‘Well, what did you learn about?’ -me
‘Like… black stuff.’ -Vincent
‘Uh…ok, you learned about slavery?’ -me
‘No! Like black things.’ -Vincent
‘A blacksmith?’ -me
‘No! It’s like black and it explodes…’ -Vincent
‘Black powder?’ -me
‘Yeah! We learned about black powder!’ -Vincent

So yeah… I was the mom that drew a pilgrim giving out corn. Seriously, I should have drawn a gun, showing the black powder igniting, while killing the pilgrim. If only I knew.

See you on the flip side and until then,

Have a good Thursday Pilgrim

Giant Parental Fails

Emily was thirsty so we offered her some cranberry juice. She started complaining that she didn’t like cranberry juice. Finally I said this…

“Emily… remember how your vagina was hurting? This juice helps you! …It’s good vagina juice…” -me

“…..” -Joe

I hope to God they don’t serve cranberry juice at daycare. My kid will be telling everyone she is drinking good vagina juice.

Until next time,

I need to purchase apple juice

Kids: The Sunday Nightmare

We woke up early today to get out of the house and we started off with a leisurely, fancy breakfast at Friendly’s.  While we were there our kids were nothing but classy.

In the middle of breakfast, the kids started singing ‘I wish I was a little piece of soap;’ which is a song my mom used to sing to me while in the bathtub. Part of the song is ‘then I’d slippy and I sliddy over everybody’s hinny…’ But Emily added and ‘vagina and butt and penis and hinny!’ As loud as you can possibly imagine and yes, it was incredibly awkward.

Then shortly after our singalong, the great Friendly’s bathroom crawl started where all the kids need to go to the bathroom at once. When Emily heard this, she took it upon herself to stand on her seat and declare, ‘I have to pee.’ Meanwhile, I just kept drinking my coffee.

Then it was off to church. If you are familiar with my stories, the greatest and most awkward moments happen at church. Today was no exception. First, I have been having a rough time and all I wanted to do is to sing and listen to the readings but all my kids wanted to sit on me at once. Not just one but all at once.

When I finally literally had a second of no one on my lap, I hear Vincent reading. Yes, the church is quiet and my son is reading! You know that proud moment when your son is reading the hymnal? No? Yeah, it was fantastic… he even added the dramatic pauses because the words are broken up to go along with the music. I think he read pages 304, 606 and 51.

While this was happening, Emily climbed back on my lap to tell me that she was so sad because Jesus was dead.

Vincent was confused while I was drinking the blood of Jesus and why we were eating his body. Kind of extreme but I can’t lie which leads me to my next moment when I found out that I tell them too much.

Emily and I had to take the bathroom tour at St. Margaret’s. As soon as we walked in, she said ‘hey mommy… I know I can touch that trash can because it’s filled with blooooouuud.’ Yeah, maybe I should wait to talk about all of that puberty stuff and blood. I tried to be real but it’s awkward when they remember everything and there are other woman in the bathroom.

Then our Sunday nightmares took us to Kohl’s for a little shopping. Emily ran away and got lost because she couldn’t pick a toy for herself and was only getting toys for her cousins. I wanted to be like… Santa’s not coming to your house if you get lost here but I figured I wouldn’t say that and I went to find her instead.

Meanwhile, breakfast must have been so moving for Joe that he decided to take part in the Kohl’s bathroom tour of 2015. So he left me with like a million boxes and three kids.

I am looking through clothes when I hear, ‘Hi Nicholas… Oh! Hi Vincent!.’ And there they were. The boys were saying hello but not too each other but to their reflections in the mirror. Which is great because we don’t look nuts or anything. But let me tell you what made us look a little more crazy… The boys are screaming hello to themselves and I look down to see that Emily has dropped her pants and is walking through the aisles. Butt is out and all.

Dear. God.

Joe finally comes back and I am having a small meltdown. I look over and Emily is now in the middle aisle holding up her shirt to all those passing by. Cool. My kid is a nudist.

Finally we are on our way home. Thank God because I didn’t think I would make another minute. Then we got home and the kids all fall asleep in the car but God forbid we can transfer them to their beds. So they were upstairs for like two hours playing like they were the best of friends but as soon as they come into our presence, it’s like WWIII. What the hell?

Then we are watching some tv… finally a  little break! But no…Nicholas calls me his ‘cutie’ which is so adorable and he is my best cuddler, however today he was sitting on my lap with his hands down his pants. First of all, do this in your room Nicholas… not on your mom’s lap.

Finally, I told him to stop touch his man parts and to just put his hands in  his pockets. He looks up at me and says, creepily I might add, ‘mommy… I can still touch my penis.’ Eww. Get off of me now.

After this incident the kids got very excited about the Eagles winning over the Patriots that they decided to force farts out of their butts. I was afraid that they were going crap their pants. But you know, now that we are home, no one wants to do the great bathroom tour of our house.

Meanwhile, both of them our now crop dusting the entire house and no one is owning up to the fart smell that distinctly smells like potato chips.

So yes… that was just the morning to early evening. And that is why I am now drinking a beer.

Until next time,

I really want some potato chips.

 

 

Dented and Unlabeled

This week has been a really horrible week dealing with a past friend. I have really been depressed and it has affected a lot of my daily life and has become a major topic in my therapy sessions. Abandonment and trust are two of my biggest issues and here I am again, feeling like I have been left alone in a huge crowd of people. It is just my perception and not reality but it’s hard to remember that.

Here was my conversation last night with my husband and it perfectly describes how I feel and how much support Joe gives me.

“Joe. I feel so lost and alone. I feel like damaged goods. The best way to describe me is a canned good at the grocery store that’s dented and nobody wants and it has no label. I don’t even know who I am. I don’t even have a label.” -me

“Yeah but that’s why you have a good therapist now. Someone to show you that you aren’t just damaged goods. It doesn’t matter that you are dented and damaged on the outside because what’s inside is still good. And I still want you even if you feel damaged right now.” -Joe

Life has it’s ups and downs and right now my life seems like it’s spiraling out of control. Sometimes the pain inside is so intense it’s just completely and utterly unbearable. Sometimes I look for ways just to feel something- anything. It’s hard to be in this place and it’s harder when you don’t know how to get out. It is a terrible feeling to feel like you are damaged, dented, broken and unidentifiable… even to yourself.

I need to look past the people that don’t want me, even if I don’t understand why, to the people that do want me. And in those many times that I don’t want myself, I appreciate those who remind me that I am worth it. Now, I just have to find it within myself.

Support is important and I have found the greatest support system in an amazing therapist and a wonderful husband.

If you are depressed like me, hang in there. One day we will realize that we are worth it. One day our miracle will come.

Until next time,

Clean up in aisle 4.

Raising Ninjas

Ok. So we have three children, who are six, four and three. Their voice volume level is clearly broken. The ‘inside voice’ is non-existent and their outside voice is probably enough to gather the masses if need be. Our kids are so damn loud.

1) Church voice- voice level: loud. Jesus is covering his ears while he sits at the right hand of God.
2) They are thirsty- voice level: loud and I want to change my name from mom to Bob.
2) They want to tell you a secret- voice level: loud and now you are deaf.

So they are freaking loud as hell. But for some reason, in the middle of the night, my children turn into silent ninjas.

I don’t know what the hell happens but when I am sleeping I feel the intense feeling that someone is staring at me. And there they are, with their beady, little brown eyes staring at you in the darkness. It’s enough to acknowledge that ‘yes, your heart is still beating and yes, your bladder is broken because you just peed the bed.’

This week the following ninjas have silently rolled into our room and did their ninja like moves in the middle of the night. I kept score everytime they magically appeared in our room in the cover of darkness…

Nicholas’ Ninja Score: 2

a) his nose was running.
b)he handed Joe his boogers. I saw his silent Ninja moves into the room but I played dead.

Emily’s Ninja Score: 5

a) she needed me to cover her with a blanket. I know the struggle. It’s hard to pull a blanket on top of you.
b) she was cold. Maybe if you kept your pajamas on instead if being a nudist, you might be warmer? I don’t know. Just a thought.
c) she didn’t want to sleep alone. You have been sleeping alone for like six hours. What the hell? Find a stuffed animal and roll over. Count sheep or something.
d) her hand felt funny. Uhh… ok? I rubbed it like I was some kind of magical wizard and then it was all better.
e) she silently whispered that she needed me to wipe her crack because she had to pee. Finding your crack is like finding your mouth when you are hungry. It’s always there and never moves.

Vincent’s Ninja Score: 3

a) bad dream.
b) bad dream.
c) he wanted to go to school. WTF. It’s like 3am. Go to bed and practice your math facts… count sheep with Emily.

So yeah. I don’t get it. Why can’t our kid’s volume control work… like ever? But when the sun goes down, they silently dress in black and roll around like they are on a freaking mission to destroy sleep. They are sleep destroyers.

And how do I know this? Because I have been up since 3:30 am because I had to wipe the crack of a ninja.

Until next time,

The mom of three loud children by day but then the mom of three Ninjas when night falls.