Author Archives: Heather

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About Heather

I adore my family, writing, books, cats, lazy mornings in bed, and chocolate. I'll never say no to breakfast for dinner, long talks with friends and lazy summer days at the pool with family. My life is often crazy, always awesome and one I'm so happy to be living! My side hustle is editing and proofing work. Find out more at https://heathercaryn.com/

The Last Word

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When Scorch gets in Big Trouble, it not usually over what he’s done.  It’s typically because after the fact he will not stop talking. Ever.

Take today for example.  The kids were watching a movie after school when halfway through, Beaner decides to annoy her brother by turning off the TV.  So Scorch shoved her, she fell over and chaos ensued.

When the dust settled, Bean was reprimanded for annoying her brother and Scorch was in trouble for pushing his sister.  It wasn’t a big deal nor did it merit a huge punishment for either kid, but Scorch was indignant that he got in any trouble at all. Clearly everything was the Bean’s fault- she was mean and rude and awful and he, Scorch, wanted an immediate apology (note: one was already given) and a full pardon.  Nothing else would do and Scorch kept going on and on and on about this grave injustice.

He got himself worked up even more by listing every single sin his sister (and I and the Hubs) had made against him during his entire life , crying and carrying on.  Finally I sent him to his room for 15 minutes just to give him time to calm down. He wasn’t in trouble, but he did need to shut his mouth, get control of himself and relax a bit.

Within a minute or two, there was silence coming from his room and I relaxed thinking that he finally got it together. Just as I was getting ready to go down the hall to talk to him, Scorch stepped out of his room and threw a wadded up piece of paper at me yelling at me to read it.  So I did.

Translation: "I don't like you. You're being mean."

Evidently having me laugh so hard I almost peed myself wasn’t the appropriate response to his missive, because Scorch sent another one almost immediately following.

Translation: "I hate you."

Obviously that note with that language wasn’t met with outward laughter and Scorch, the Bean and I had a long talk about how words can hurt and all that, but inside I really did pee my pants.  The fact that Scorch 1) can’t keep his mouth shut and 2) expresses himself by writing me notes where he sound out the words all by himself gives me endless hours of entertainment after the fact.  I do love that kid!

Back to Life…

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8 Christmas celebrations.

1 New Year’s Eve Party.

6 movies (5 rentals, 1 in the theater).

7 days of sleeping in past 8 am.

2 sick kids

Countless gifts.

8 books read.

2 nights that the kids actually got into bed within an hour of their bedtime.

More laughter, loves and enjoyment then I can count.

And that, my friends, was our past 10 days in a nutshell.  The Bean was sick on the 22nd and 23rd, but thankfully rallied by Christmas Eve so we could have a fantastic night with my family.  Christmas Day was spent at home for the first time ever in the 13 years the Hubs and I have been together.  Family came to us and we had a wonderful afternoon watching the kids play.  The rest of the week was a blur of parties and dinners and family and friends- just like the holidays should be.  Our only break came mid week when Scorch got sick- thankfully with a much milder version of the stomach bug the Bean had.  On the days he was sick, no one got out of their PJs- old ones were simply traded for clean ones after showers .

The Hubs and I both had last week off from work – so we had 10 days at home together where neither of us had to work for the first time since our maternity/paternity leave when Scorch was born.  I kept looking at him all week saying how nice it was just to have this time together- clearly we’d make very good lazy rich people.  The kids, bless their hearts, finally learned how to sleep in past 6 am, so most mornings we weren’t out of bed until 8 am which is such a luxury.

All in all, these past 10 days were absolutely, incredible wonderful.

I hope you and yours had a blessed holiday season!  2012 is going to be a great year- I can feel it!

 

Holiday Cheer from the Sick House

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Today I got the dreaded call. As soon as I saw the school’s name pop up on the caller ID, I knew that one my kids were either hurt or sick. Honestly, I was hoping for hurt this close to the holidays.  But nope, it’s a sick kid who puked in the cafeteria.   Poor Bean.

I’ve documented a time or two my fear and loathing for all things vomit, but I thought I had done a good job keeping my anxiety to myself.  Not so much.  When leaving school, Scorch refused to walk within a 5 feet of the Bean and he flat out refused to get in the car  on the same side as her because sick people “creep” him out and he didn’t want to get puked on.  I think it’s safe to say that I may have scarred my kid out of a career in medicine.

~*~*~*~

We all spent Scorch’s 1st Christmas sick with a stomach bug. I got it the night of the 24th, Scorch the night of the 25th and the Hubs the morning of the 26th.  I’m really hoping that this year isn’t a repeat of that because that, frankly, was miserable.   There is nothing fun about having to cut your 6 month olds clothes off him because he’s crapped all the way up to his neck due to a stomach bug when you’re sick too.  Oh well- at least the kids are old enough to hit bucket now.

My Christmas Wish(es)

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Here is what I’m really wishing for tonight:

> That my  kids remember the fun we had playing Rock, Paper, Scissors in the car and laughing hysterically when we all selected the same thing three times in a row.

> I hoping they don’t remember that we started to play after 15 minutes of complete silence in the car because we all lost our minds at Target this evening (Scorch after being punished for hitting his sister in the face with my phone, the Bean after running away and me after the Bean blew raspberries in my face when I got down to her level to talk to her about her bad behavior).  Yeah- we were that family today and it was awful.

> That Scorch isn’t too disappointed that the one gift he now suddenly wants above all others isn’t under the tree this year.

> That the kids remember how much fun we had making cookies for the school’s bake off last night.

Read the rest of this entry

Pooping Out Babies

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A few days ago I took the kids to see Mary, their amazing former nanny, and her 5 day old son.  The kids were virtually bouncing with excitement over seeing Mary, her husband and the new baby.  They were so excited, that I had to warn them that they had to be very careful around Mary since she had a c-section- that meant none of their normal jumping hugs, no tight squeezes, etc.

The kids were fascinated by this notion of a big cut on Mary’s belly and wanted to know if Aunt Red had a big cut on her belly when she had Baby Lala.  I told her that she did.  They mentioned a few other friends who also coincidentally had c-sections as well.  Then Scorch said that he didn’t remember me having a big boo-boo on my belly when the Bean was born.

I froze for a second because I didn’t have to have a c-section when I had my kids.  But I didn’t know if it was easier for them to just think I did or if I wanted to walk down the path that is natural childbirth with them.  Ultimately, I opted for a slightly modified version of the truth.

“Well, I didn’t have a boo-boo on my tummy when I had you guys. Ladies have a special hole down in their private area where babies can be born out of.”

I was very proud of myself for being honest without going into too much detail (something I’ve been guilty of in the past). The kids were quiet for a second, then Scorch spoke up again.

“So wait- ladies poop out babies?! That is so disgusting.  I am so glad I’m a boy.”

I was too busy laughing to correct him before we arrived at Mary’s house- here’s hoping he doesn’t start spreading that rumor around before we get a chance to have another discussion!

Not The Answer I Was Looking For

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Beaner is going through a big Daddy phase right now- which means she wants Daddy, and only Daddy, to put her to bed at night. That’s fine most of the time, but tonight the Hubs is sick. He’s battling a bad cold and really doesn’t have the energy and patience to deal with the bedtime dance.  So before bedtime, I sat the Bean down and we have a quick conversation- Daddy doesn’t feel good, he needs to rest, so you just need to say goodnight to him once and then go to bed, ok?

She nodded her head earnestly and says “OK, mama.”

But I could tell she was not really listening, so I asked her what I said. Without missing a beat, she goes “Blah blah poopity blah.”

And that right there is why I love my daughter and why I’m scared to death to see what she’s like as a teen.

A Brain Divided

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On one hand, telling the kids that Christmas is coming is awesome. The excitement! The joy! The anticipation! Lording the threat of Buddy the Elf and Santa watching them 24/7 over their heads!

On the other hand, my GAWD is it Christmas yet?! The kids are out of their ever loving minds leading up to this holiday.  The anticipation is killing them and they are acting like crazy monsters.  Ever read Lama Lama Holiday Drama? Yeah, it’s like that.

Part of me honestly thinks that next year, we’re just going to spring Christmas on the kids on the 24th.

*~*~*~

I wrote the above about 45 minutes after we got home from school- 45 minutes during which either 1 or both of the kids were crying/screaming/tantruming about something.  But gradually the night improved.  In the middle of the Bean’s bath, Scorch decided to jump in the tub with her- something that hasn’t happened in almost a year. 2 big kids + 1 small tub = disaster so we just don’t do joint baths any more. Imagine my surprise when both kids emerged from the tub smiling, laughing and not sporting any fresh bruises.   Dinner was a peaceful affair and even our bedtime ritual of reading books went off without the usual spats.   Prayers were said and with the exception of the Bean insisting the only thing she was thankful for tonight was poop, I didn’t have to reprimand the kids once.

I may just believe in Christmas miracles after all.

An Act of Defiance

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I’m not sure who’s 5 year old was living with us today, but I don’t think it was Scorch.

This little boy was rude, argumentative and defiant.  My Scorch isn’t a perfect child, but he’s always been a pleaser. When he acts out, my Scorch wants to make it better and really doesn’t want to be in trouble. This Scorch? He basically begged to be put in time out multiple times today.

It all started with a plethora of potty words this morning.  Every other word in the Christmas carols he was singing were replaced with “poop” and it was making me crazy. After the 3rd warning, I told him that each and every time I heard a potty word come out of his mouth, he’d sit in timeout.  He was walking down the stairs at the time and I swear to you, that child turned around, looked right at me and said “Poop” as distinctly as he could.

Well then.  Welcome to time out, Scorch.

Things improved moderately during the day but when it was time for bed, the other Scorch appeared again.  This child, when told he must go brush his teeth, looked right at his father and said “I don’t have to listen to you.”

The best (?) part was the minute he said this, Scorches eyes got huge because he knew he just crossed a major line and he had no idea what would come next.  But, very similar to his father, once he committed, he just went with it and dug himself in that hole that much further. “You are not the boss of me and I do not have to do what you tell me to.”  I give him credit for not giving into his common sense and self preservation and just running with his sassiness.

After a suitable punishment, some tears, and a 5 minute long teeth brushing session, Scorch finally went to bed. I’m really hoping this changling child who woke up in Scorch’s bed is gone tomorrow and my sweet boy is back. Other wise it’s going to be  a long, long day.

 

I’m Not a Freak

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Every year I promise myself it won’t happen. I think about it all January – this year will be different. I’ll be prepared. I’ll have lists. I’ll be organized. I will plan ahead.

And every year, I fail.

I’m talking, of course, about Christmas shopping. I read about these people who are done in August- or even in November- and I wonder who these freaks of nature are?  Who are these people who think that far ahead, who know what people want before they give a list or circle 100 things in a catalog?

I am not one of those people.  I one of the take-two-days-off-from-work, color-coded spreadsheet people.  I’m the one who leaves the house at 8 am and doesn’t come back till my checklist is checked off and my trunk is overflowing. I have friends that shop with me, bless them, but they know on these shopping days, it’s all about me. They are those already-done-shopping freaks anyhow, so I think they go just to watch me sweat, squirm and panic.  And for the meal we get because even shopping maniacs have to fuel up and I’m not one to pass up the joy of eating in a restaurant without children.

The best part is I normally have fun doing this. I like having one or two days to dedicate to the craziness of shopping.  I love the company of my friends and I enjoy the excuse to take a day for me (and everyone else that will benefit from my day).  I thrive on the stress and the need to get it done NOW.  Otherwise, it doesn’t get done. After 13+ years of shopping for Christmas I know that- it’s never going to change, so I might as well embrace it.

Now, the wrapping that I also need to get done under the gun? I’ll always loathe that part.

 

AKA My Baby

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The other day I was giving Scorch a piggy back ride up stairs and when it was time for him to let go, I didn’t have to bend down.  He simply didn’t have that far to fall.

When I realized that, I curled up on the ground and cried.

Well- not really, but I wanted to.  Where in the world has my baby gone? My bald Buddha baby? My sweet cuddly toddler? Heck, I’d even take my chubby cheeked pre-schooler.  Wasn’t he just born yesterday? I still vividly remember the Hubs and I driving the 40 minutes up the hospital after my water broke- so excited, so nervous, so completely overwhelmed with what was happening and so unprepared for parenthood.

But as much as I miss my first baby,  5 year old Scorch is pretty damn awesome.  He wants to write all the time- he’s constantly penning notes (“Mom- how do you spell….?”) for anyone and everyone.  He wants to learn how to read and he’s beyond ticked that we haven’t taught him to tie his shoes yet.   He’s smart as can be and throws in random words like “A.K.A.” into our conversations.   He’s a good friend and a sweet boy who still loves hugs and kisses and snuggles.  His laugh still lights up his room and I swear his eye lashes will always be the envy of every woman he meets.

I just want him to slow down- just a little bit. Not because he’s not ready to get older and grow bigger, but because I’m not.  I hear awful stories of bullying, I read terrible stories of crimes, I see pictures of horrifying car wrecks and I just want to keep him little. I want to have him home with me all the time- I’m not ready to let go and share him with the world.

But- that’s the price of parenthood. That’s the goal of parenthood- to raise your kids to be smart, independent kids who can take care of themselves. And I’m beyond thankful that the Hubs and I get that privilege of raising him and the Bean, I just wish that occasionally life had a pause button.