Monday: There are no weekends for moms, but there ARE mondays. Monday, when I crack down on my messy house, and Dave usually doesn't get home from the gym after work until nearly seven o'clock. We try to squeeze in a brief family home evening before the kids go to bed, which happens somewhere in that Goldilocks zone between Dad Needs to Make an Appearance and Mom's Last Nerve. I fully support Dave working out, but I was a little relieved to see the following text message:
"Maybe I'll just work out at home tonight. Miss my family."
Sitting around the backyard campfire, we eked out that brief window of the day which is always my favorite. Everyone is home. Exhausted in our various ways—Asher: Excessively rambunctious, in equal parts provoking his dad to play and staving off fatigue; Finn: Occasionally fussy, but always goodnatured; Me: Trying to tune out the circus in an attempt to finally engage another adult in conversation; David: Quietly trying to appease both boys while following my pent-up flow of soliloquy. We sat around the fire, passing our bundled babe back and forth and intermittently warning Asher about the consequences of throwing this or that on the fire. Eventually Asher's composure dissolved and we called it a night. Not bad for a monday.
Tuesday: I sneaked off for lunch with a friend after a rather sorry attempt at working out together. (Small children + aforementioned appetite for conversation = sad workout.) Finn fell asleep in the car and Asher watched a show on the electronic babysitter. For once I got to eat my food at the same time as everyone else, and it was still warm. (It was Cafe Rio anyway, which I would pretty much eat out of the gutter.) It's the little things.
That night while I was eating dinner, I looked under the table and saw this:
Asher says: "Firetruck gassing up!" (That is laptop charger.)
I was impressed. Dave was disappointed that Asher has decided on electric.
Wednesday: I was brave/stupid enough to take both kids to the pool on my own, as part of the church playgroup I attend. The swimming is the easy part. The rec center has a shallow, warm kiddie pool with slides and playground equipment that is well-matched to Asher's skill level, so I mostly just have to worry about Finn. The post-swim routine is the doozy. I refuse to put my finger-sucking, crawling baby on the floor of a public locker room. So just imagine trying to undress, wash, dry, and re-dress three people, all one-handed. One of those people acts like a blender with no lid, the other is as slick as a bar of soap when wet and naked, and the third requires a bra. (Go ahead and try to clasp a bra one-handed behind your back.)
The swimming part went better than expected. A fellow mom allowed me to borrow her baby lounger flotation device, and from the faraway look on Finn's face, he was apparently taken back to his days in the womb #blissedout. All was going well until 20 minutes after we got there, when the lifeguard announced that there was poop in the gutter, and the pool had to be evacuated for an hour. In the hubbub that ensued (during which Asher dashed off and jumped back into the poop pool) I lost track of the other moms (I later learned they retreated to the hot tubs). Because Asher isn't big enough to navigate the lazy river or lap pool we opted to leave.
We spent more time in the locker room than we had in the pool. Finn did not appreciate the shower, nor did he enjoy the acrobatics of a mom trying to get him dressed and dry while herself being wet and cold and unable to set him down. Asher vacillated between unlocking the door to our family locker room and playing with the grate over the shower drain. When at last we left, I felt no cleaner than I did the moment I dived back into the poopy pool to retrieve my errant Asher.
Thursday: I took the boys on a walk to the library. I made Asher own up to what he did to this library book:
I am still finding confetti-sized pieces of this book.
For some reason, I still got him more books. Can you blame me for being swindled by this face?
This book was a major score. He loves the TV show.
That night I went to the last session of my cake-decorating class. Initially I was a little hesitant about the class. It was a friend's idea, and I'm not planning on pursuing cake-decorating. I realize now that I haven't really got out and done something just for me since Finn was born, and at the onset I was hesitant to take the time for something I'm not "serious" about. But, it was SO worth it! Here are some of the things I made:
Valentine's Day cupcakes
My first time torting a cake. This five-layered baby is covered in chocolate buttercream and filled with raspberry jam.
It must be noted that this gaudy cake was a gag. Our friends came to town after my final class, when I was learning to make buttercream roses. He had just had a birthday, and he has three daughters (#4 is on the way). Being a manly man like my husband, we have fun teasing him about the girly-ness that surrounds him. This cake paid homage to that theme.
I stayed up until til 3 or 4 am finishing my masterpieces after class more than once, but had a ton of fun. I've concluded that I need to make doing things that I enjoy a greater priority, as it makes me a much happier mom and better wife. Watching TV while folding laundry doesn't really count, even if it's all I have time for most days.
Friday: I spent way too long reading up on various makes and models of carseats for the boys. Dave is convinced that I have bought Asher the most cumbersome model out there. I am convinced that carseats for three-year-olds are generally a pain in the tuchus. I think of all the gizmos that are standard issue baby gear now, that my parents surely didn't have, and wonder what they'll come up with by the time my grandkids are born. I think carseats have the most room for improvement. Someday I'll tell my children about hauling Asher's 25-lb steel frame behemoth of a carseat through airport security as we island-hopped Hawaii, and they will be dumbfounded.
That night Dave's brother Chris came to stay, along with his wife Susie and their son Liam (two months younger than Finn.) Good news: Finn is gaining on Liam, who dwarfed him at their last meeting. Girls stomped the boys at Sequence. Bad news: Finn was scared of Liam. Donald Trump is probably going to get the Republican nomination (not pertinent to Friday, but a major topic of conversation that night. I detest him.)
Saturday: The menfolk took off for a day in the mountains while Susie and I hung with the kids. I took Asher to Lowe's, where we (I) built him a little monster truck toy. In addition to the free toy, it's important that the kids get a certificate "of merit" for "building" it.
They put the wrong name for "Builder."
It's basically impossible for all of us to leave the house when you have three kids off-setting their naps, but I watched the sprouts while Susie caught a temple session. Let's just say...Liam likes his mom. And Finn is pretty good doing his own thing, until someone else is laying claim to his mom. These were the happier moments:
Sunday/Today: Sacrament meeting was amazing! Okay, I still can't even remember the talks, but we were on time and the kids were happy throughout. Asher wanted to "cuddle" with me the whole time, and Finn mostly spent his time repeatedly dropping a toy over the pew for the gentleman behind me to retrieve. Dave pretty much got off scotch free. No fair.
After church, Asher took off his shirt and spun it around in the air before tossing it aside. Chippendales couldn't have done it better. I don't know where he gets these things. He refused to take his nap despite several attempts (from me, not him). Dave finally went in to retrieve him, at which point he was found standing on his dresser, light bulb unscrewed from his lamp, banging the thing against his wall.
Finn has exactly one tooth, which makes him look like the world's most charming hill billy. He is getting more and more mobile. He may be a shrimp compared to his cousin, but he's a rocket when it comes to crawling! He pulls himself up easily and walks along things.
"Look ma, one hand!"
And here is a random picture of him that I'm going to shoehorn in here because it's adorable and doesn't fit anywhere in this post. Have a great week!
Peanut butter and kiwi: works as both a facial scrub and hair mask!