It's how it is...and I loooooove it.

I haven't lived the most exciting life.  I'm not super adventurous and am only semi-spontaneous.  Both of those qualities have kept me from doing things that I could scratch of most people's bucket lists but I'm ok with that.  I went to college at age 17, fresh out of high school.  I graduated in 4 years, earning a 4.0 my entire senior year.  I am proud of that because I worked very hard for it.  I stayed for one more complete year and got my teaching credential.  I got a job right away and taught for the next 7 years until I had Drew.  I think I'm kinda smart.  I love to read, even though I don't make time for that these days.  I love to write, although this is the extent of it anymore.  I proofread most things for most of the people I know.  My brain is capable of lots of things even though you really wouldn't know it these days.  My job, my life, requires very little intellect.  It requires a shitload of patience, a tremendous amount of love, an abundance of kisses.  But not much else.  You don't have to have 5 years of college education to fold a thousand pieces of freakin' laundry a week.  Or to load a dishwasher twice a day.  And when I start to reflect and think about all I've accomplished and all I've seemingly lost, 2 minutes of this snaps me back to reality.  I'm the luckiest God damn woman alive.



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How to raise grateful children who aren't bratty

The title of this blog should be a question rather than a statement.  I'm going to start by saying that I am obviously by no means an authority on this issue.  I am in the same boat as the rest of you who have young children.  All we want to do is raise kind, educated, productive citizens.  Right?  I'm also going to start by saying that I have a very narrow view of how things should be.  That goes for how the dishes should be loaded in the dishwasher, how the laundry should be sorted, how wedding ceremonies should be conducted, and how children should be raised.  I'm learning in my old age and experience with every new little person I birth that people who don't do things the way I do things are not wrong, it's just what works for them.  So I guess I should say that I have a very narrow view (or way of doing things) that works for me.  I'd like to say I'm easy and flexible but I guess I'm really not.  The clock runs our house.  That works for me.  My kids are banned to their rooms for an hour in the afternoons for quiet time.  That works for me.  They go to bed at 7:30pm so that I can shower before the good shows start at 8pm.  That works for me.  The people who let their kids stay up until midnight or those who do the Macarena at their wedding aren't wrong.  It just wouldn't work for me.


I began thinking about how to ensure I'm raising grateful/non-bratty children about 2 minutes into them opening their stockings on Christmas.  First of all, the stockings were overflowing which was ridiculous.  They would have been happy with just a couple things and that's what I'm doing from now on.  I mean Santa.  I need to send him a memo that stockings don't need to weigh 15 pounds.  The kids opened something, hardly looked at it, tossed the wrapping paper over their shoulder like Rachel Ray throws salt and moved on to the next present.  They repeated this until I stopped them.  And if you're thinking to yourself, "God, Ashley, they're only kids!" I know this.  I know.  I know they are only three and four years old but if they aren't taught now, then when?  I stopped them and said, "Wait!  What is that?  That's so awesome!  When you fall and scrape your knee you can use one of those.  Santa must have known that you love Spiderman!  Isn't that nice he knew that about you?  Where should we keep those?" and a whole lot of other bullshit like that.  I didn't beat to death each gift but I wanted to give them pause for each and at least let them see me express a little something regarding their presents.  I did the same for my own.  I think at this age modeling is probably the best example.  William is uber observant and I know nothing is lost on him.  I'm hoping Drew will just get used to hearing such things and will copy us. 


They kids weren't completely dismissive of all their gifts and I certainly don't expect them to ooze gratitude but it was important to me that they knew who bought them what before they opened a gift.  And tonight when William put on his contstuction vehicle pajamas I reminded him that Lauren picked those out just for him.  He said, "Oh, that was so nice of her."  Why yes, yes it was.


The thing I struggle with the absolute most is the amount of "special" things my kids get on a daily basis.  When I was growing up, going out to dinner was such a treat.  Getting ice cream on the way home from being out somewhere on a Saturday?  You hit the mf'ing motherload.  Getting to go to an amusement parky kind of place?  It was either your birthday or a friend's birthday.  Getting a big toy that walked and blinked and sang songs to you?  It was obviously Christmas and Santa had fulfilled your one request for the year.  Today, for my kids, that's a Tuesday.  Or a Saturday.  And I'm ashamed of that.  They DO NOT need, and more importantly, they DO NOT deserve lemonade every time we go to Costco.  My shut-up-and-eat-this-icee-so-I-can-shop-in-peace everytime I got to Target has to go, too.  The merry-go-round at the mall?  Maybe a couple times a year.  I think all of these things add up and give my kids the message that they deserve all the "special" things that are out there.  They've always received them so it's just how it should be.  I don't agree.  "Special" is really become something with little value.  That's the scariest thing about all of it.  When Drew said about her chicken nuggets, "I don't want these" I wanted to go into the whole, "When I was your age if my mom had taken me to McDonald's on just a plain ol' Monday for the hell of it and I complained..." you know where I'm going with this.  Now it's just stopping, or cutting back.  I need to make sure that "special" has value again.  I think the biggest lesson is that just because you can doesn't mean you should. 


My kids aren't completely without lessons in appreciation and gratitude.  Not only do Chris and I model them, we did the food bank at Christmas, we shopped for and dontated toys at Christmas, and we acknowledge throughout the year all the little things we're so lucky to have.  I point out how lucky Drew is to go to bed with a stack of books in her bed and how lucky William is to have his favorite train that has batteries in it that work.  It's all I can do.  Acknowledge, model, and soon expect it to ooze from them.  The gratitude I mean.  Bratty kids aren't gracious.  I expect my kids to be gracious.  And if they're not, I'll blame Costco for selling lemonade and consider suing Target for selling Icees. 


The end.  

      
    

Wanna get serious, but just can't do it today

I have a couple topics I wanted to write about for this next blog but I'm just not feeling in the thinking mood.  The main thing I want to write about/explore/process/get feedback about is how to ensure I'm raising grateful children.  That topic today, however, is WAY beyond what my brain is capable of.  Today I don't care if they are grateful or ungrateful, dressed or naked, fed or hungry.  I just want them quiet.  QWIIII EEETTTT.


Our Christmas was lovely.  We had mom, Chris's parents, and Chris's brother visit with us for the last few days and now that the house is empty, the sick little children are sleeping, and I've bought a million dollar new charger for my laptop, it's time to get pictures onto the computer (and my blog) and then return the million dollar charger to Best Buy where I bought it a few hours ago and buy a cheaper one online.  Savvy consumer am I, no?


You're lucky you can't catch germs through the computer because if you could, you would all get an ear infection, strep throat, the flu, pink eye, and probably even William's asthma just through the next set of pictures.  No more blabbering.  Here is our Christmas in pictures.

We wrote Santa a letter a few days before and had Hello deliver it to him.  If you don't know who Hello is, click here.

William, Daddy, and Uncle Cory.  Can you say - scholarship?!

Grandma (Chris's mom) and the kids making Santa's house.  Thanks Auntie Amy and Uncle Brandon!

Nana (my mom) and William making cookies for Santa.  I reminded William that Santa likes LOTS of frosting. Lots.

The kids and I were just checking to see where Santa was... 

This would be a.m. - the beginning of stockings

Yeah for stockings!  Next year Santa won't fill them so full.  Too many things led to complete disinterest by the end.

Nothing like getting a gift that says, "Here, when you fall and bleed, you can use me!"

William was excited to go up and wish Lauren a Merry 1st Christmas.

See the sick eyes?  She's still a pretty little package, doncha think?

IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!  William opened the present Drew had chosen for William (Batman fruit snacks from Raley's) and he LOVED them.  And her.  In that moment.

Santa knew that this little 9 month old is ready to walk, she just needs a tiny bit of help.  Here she's getting it from her Uncle Cory and from Mr. Lion.

Brothers playing Wii.  Thanks, Bill and Ellen - a great gift!

Drew wrote some of the cards on the presents.  Here are grandma and grandpa's.

Nana with sweet Lauren

I hope you had a lovely Christmas as well and that your memories and traditions will stay strong.  Thanks to our parents for respecting our own new family traditions and being patient while we had a little time alone in the morning with our children. 

   

How does yours rate?

By now all of us, or most of us, have sent out the annual Christmas card.  If you read my blog you know that it is ridiculously high on my priority list come November every year.  Like, too high.  On a typical November evening Chris is in his office laboring over Quicken charts and our property taxes and our expenditures for the business and whatever other important things go on in that Godforsaken place while I sit in the cozy livingroom on my laptop laboring over pictures and formats.  I know, I totally win in the who-has-the-most-important task. Oh!  And this year, I composed a letter.  Yep, I totally win.  Ok, so now that it's established that Chris wastes his time on financial family matters while I compose the Family Letter, we can get on with this.  

How did your Christmas card rate according to Swistle's rating system?  If you don't know what I'm talking about, you must click here.   

I think the 8 people who read this blog all received our Christmas card and oh!  The Family Letter as well, but I'll leave you with our family greeting.  And excuse my tackiness if I just happen to mention that this was taken 4 months after I had baby number three and I have lost 19.5 pounds since this picture was taken.  Yes, the .5 matter and yes, I think I'll give myself an extra 2 points for it.

Merry Merry!!

photos were taken by Kia Gregory

Update and stuff

Drew's surgery went amazing well.  I knew it would and you knew it would but until it was over I had to hold my breath a little.  We went to bed the night before and I said to Chris, "Are you worried?"  He said, "About what?"  OMG.  Please.  "About Drew, dumbass."  I didn't say the dumbass part but I thought it.  He said, "Not one little bit."  Chris is the KING of making everything notabigdeal but I trust him completely and this put me at ease quite a bit.

We arrived at 6:30am on Friday morning and she was immediately called back. Chris went with her and I walked Lauren around the hospital halls.  He came out at 7:15am and she was already put under.  He said she never cried and never appeared scared.  She put on her hospital gown, laid on the table and took a deep breath from the mask and was out.  She's an amazingly tough little girl.  She's just like her daddy.  Chris and I sat and played with Lauren for maybe 20 minutes when the nurse came out and said, "Mrs. Peters, she'll be waking up soon, would you like to come back?"  Here's where my Mother of the Year behavior begins.  I said, "Um, no.  He'll go."  I have such an intese fear of throw up that I just couldn't go back until I knew she was going to wake without getting sick.  I know nobody likes it (hear, see, smell) but I have a FEAR of it.  It's called emetophobia and it's real.  I sweat, my heart races, I get tunnel vision.  With Chris being a firefighter and gone for 24 to 48 hour shifts, my biggest fear is not him being injured, it's that one of the kids will throw up while he's gone.  Ok, getting off topic.  So, as Mother of the Year I sat in the waiting room but told Chris to come get me as soon as she was awake and it was sure she wasn't going to be sick.  He came to get me a few minutes later.  I walked back and she was sitting in a cozy bed with her own little TV on a swivel arm watching Curious George's Christmas Special.  She saw me and BURST into tears.  She had been eating a cherry popsicle that fell to her lap when she saw me.  The nurse got us a big recliner and got her out of bed and I just held her while she cried for nearly 30 minutes.  She just kept cupping her mouth saying that it hurt.  The nurse assured me it was completely numb and that what "hurt" was probably just the weird feeling of it being numb.  I kind of don't think so.  The way Drew was behaving I know she was in pain.  Within an hour of waking up from surgery we were in the car on the way home.  She cried all the way home and I twisted myself into a pretzel to be able to reach back and hold her hand all the way home.  She needed it.  She needed me.  She hasn't needed me in a very, very long time.  When she does need someone it's always daddy.  I even said to Chris, "I hope it doesn't hurt your feelings that she wants ME today."  He replied that he was just glad that finally some of my Drew needs were being met.  And they were.  Unfortunately it took surgery to get her to need her mommy.  We got home and Drew laid on me for over an hour while we watched some horrid Dora Christmas thing on TV.  I thought for sure she'd fall asleep but she never did.  She popped up and went about her day as if nothing had happened.  It was CRAZY.  Surgery at 7:20am, home at 9:00am and up riding her bike at 11:00am.  Her eating hasn't been effected and aside from a crooked, swollen smile she's exactly as she was before. 

We got lots of well wishes, cards in the mail and ecards.  Thank you for all of them.  I kinda feel silly for being somewhat worried now that I know it was such a minor thing.  Here are a couple pics of that day, and a few others.

Here's her new frenulum.  Sorry if it's a little graphic. 

 Drew, eating animal crackers and drinking apple juice just a few hours after.

I love this one.  William got home from school and Drew was anxious to show him her stitches.

Playing outside that afternoon.

Other stuff:

William didn't have a Christmas party at school on Friday.  He had a birthday party for Jesus.  This is how he came home from school.  He's still wearing his hat during the day.  Love it.

The kids' Christmas program from last week.  This was William's first time doing this sort of thing.  He was a superstar.  A superstar who is desperately searching for mommy and daddy in the crowd.

Drew, in the back row, singing like an angel.

Lauren was a champ during the performance.  Here she is, loving her daddy.

Lastly, our house has been hit with pink eye (all three kids, six eyes total), an ear infection for Drew in addition to her surgery, and two new teeth and a cold for Lauren.  Have you ever seen such a sad picture?

We're all on the mend as of today and we're looking forward to Santa visiting us in just a couple days.  I am looking forward to a quiet Christmas and enjoying it with my children and husband, as well as our parents and Uncle Cory who will be visiting for just a few days. 

And another HUGE thanks to Tracy for taking William at 5:45am on Friday so both Chris and I could be with Drew.  She's a lifesaver.

It's ok to make mountains out of molehills sometimes

I don't like to make mountains out of molehills. Chris would disagree with that statement 110% but that doesn't matter. He's a guy and I think typically they like to make molehills out of mountains. Am I right? Anyway, I am a person who doesn't stress, doesn't worry much, and I steer clear of drama. Don't ask Chris's opinion about this. He's a completely unreliable source. But this situation we have coming up on Friday is a mountain. Some have tried to convince me it's just a molehill but it's not.

Drew is having a frenulectomy. Your frenulum is the string (as Drew calls it) that connects your upper lip to your gum. Go ahead, stick your tongue up there and feel it. Feel it? Yeah, that's your frenulum. Drew's connects right at the top of her two front teeth. It hasn't caused any speech issues for her, thankfully. Right now it's a dental issue. Her two front teeth will soon begin to spread. And spread, and spread. We're preventing that from happening by having her frenulum snipped so that it connects where yours does, up higher on the gum.

I've been told this is only a molehill because thousands of children have had this surgery. And because her recovery will be only 7 days. And she'll be home 6 hours after the procedure. I disagree. This is a mountain because it's surgery. Because she'll be put under. Because she's only 4. And because I'm her mommy.


Good healing thoughts on Friday sent our way would be appreciated. Thanks.

*A huge thank you to Tracy for caring for William so both Chris and I can be with Drew on Friday!

Wrapping

'Tis the season.  FOR WRAPPING.  I'm not one to do gift bags.  I like pretty paper and even prettier ribbon.  I think presents should be presented and wrapped in a lovingly way.  Some people (my husband) think it doesn't matter one bit what it looks like and the fact that I don't just throw a present into some tissue paper and slap some tape on it is ridiculous.  I disagree and will always give gifts that I have spent the time to wrap and make pretty.  Last night I hauled down some of the gifts and some of my Christmas wrapping stuff.  Chris was sitting on the couch and sighed and said, "Thank God you're the woman."  *He's not sexist, really, he's not.*  As I was putting the wrapping stuff away I was thinking of how much prettier, how much easier, and how much MORE I would enjoy this labor of love if I had one of these:

A gift wrapping room!  Wouldn't that be terrific?  I can hear the laughter already at just the thought of even mentioning that something like this could exist in our house.  Chris would offer to buy me some tissue paper, some gift bags, and he may clear the kitchen counter off for me.  He'd say, "Here's your gift wrapping room, dear!"  Oh, well.  A girl can dream.  For now, the kitchen counter will suffice.