Welcome! Are you feeling embarrassed that in a rush to get to church, you wore your blouse inside out? Or maybe your mother-in-law found out that you routinely let your children jump on her extra bouncy sofa when she's not around? Perhaps you just gave in and had cookies for dinner...twice...this week. No worries! "Not Me!" Monday was written just for you. It frees me up to admit my many imperfections and vent about the absolutely ridiculous things that are my everyday. Enjoy at my expense, and join in the fun by commenting below!
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This week was L O N G. I'm sure you know the feeling. Even so, there was never a time when I felt like I needed a break. And even if I did, I never would have put the baby down to sleep, set up the gate between the living room and kitchen, given the boys a handful of tortilla chips, and put on a VeggieTales dvd, just so I could enjoy a bowl of soup and a moment of peace and quiet. Nope. Not me!
Oh, thank you for noticing that we dropped a large, heavy winter coat on the floor of our entryway. Umm...NO, it was in fact not there on purpose to block the sizable draft coming in from under the front door. The space in front of this door is our designated time-out spot, but the draft was most certainly not created by the removal of the weather stripping (by a small child in the throes of a tantrum) during one such time-out. Not in my house!
I have terrible fall allergies, and this week has been pretty bad. But no matter how bad the headaches get, and no matter how dry the air in our house, I would never dream of swiping the humidifier in my infant's room to use in my own room. Never. Not me!
I did not catch Cameron smashing cereal onto our coffee table in the living room and feeding it to his dinosaur. (Little dinosaur, hence the need for minuscule cereal bits...obviously.)
What?? You spy a speck of chocolate on my lip? Oh, ummm, that must be from the, uhhh, leftover Halloween candy. Yeah. It's, ummm, definitely not from the package of Reese's Christmas trees I bought to put in my husband's stocking.
Our boys are going through a (how should I put it?) difficult season during bedtimes recently. Cameron routinely climbs out of his bed and onto his brother. In fact, "the more annoying, the better," seems to be Cam's motto as of late, particularly as pertains to his brother and bedtime. And, while Kyler and I certainly recognize how irritating this must be for Kayden, we are finding it also necessary to make sure he understands that smacking his brother or shoving him off of his bed are not appropriate responses. So, when Kyler went upstairs to mediate another such skirmish during nap time the other day, he found that Kayden had yet again shoved his brother onto the floor after Cam had attempted to get into his bed. Wanting to know what had caused all of the screaming, I listened intently over the monitor as my patient husband worked through the situation. But when Kyler told Kayden he needed to apologize to his brother for pushing him off the bed, the connection must have been fuzzy. It wasn't my kid who responded, "Ummm....how about next time...."
Not my child!
Speaking of my children, we spent the better part of Wednesday this past week visiting the pediatrician. Let me tell you, three sick kids is no walk in the park (blog on that forthcoming this week...) And just so you have the complete picture of our family life, I want you to envision the following:
We arrived at the doctor's office on time (of course), sat nicely in the waiting room, and filled out some of the necessary paperwork. (We were not twenty minutes late, my children did not burst into the office like gangbusters, and I was not filling out paperwork with one foot rocking the baby carrier, one arm trying to keep Cameron out of the fish tank, and one hand scrawling chicken scratch onto the form, which was balancing precariously on my lap.) When the nurse called us, we all headed back to the exam room, walking calmly with our hands to ourselves and using our whisper voices. (I did not have to hurriedly gather three coats, three hats, a diaper bag and a baby carrier and chase after the two big boys, who were shrieking and jumping down the hall.) Once inside the exam room, Kayden sat patiently as the nurse took his temperature. When she sweetly asked him to follow her so she could weigh him, he obeyed promptly, exclaiming, "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! I love getting weighed! Let's go!" (He did not refuse to let the nurse take his temp, or throw himself on the floor in protest when asked to come to the scale. I did not have to drag him down the hall to the scale, holding a squirming infant in the other arm. He did not then collapse in a heap on the floor, go jelly-legged when I attempted to put him on the scale myself, or shriek in utter disobedience. I did not have to hand my infant to the nurse and excuse myself as I carried him to the bathroom for a "chat." Nor did said "chat" have absolutely zero effect on his wayward behavior.) We returned to the exam room after weighing the boys, and quietly read several picture books as we waited for the doctor. I did not have to chase Cameron down the hall not once, but three times, to find him in the waiting room, jumping from chair to chair.) I left the doctor's office feeling supremely confident in my parenting abilities, pleased as punch that my children are obedient, shining little stars in public. (It wasn't me who got out of that office as fast as my tired body could carry me, straining under the weight of a baby carrier, diaper bag, blankets, coats, and the train of toddlers I was dragging along behind me. And I certainly did not want to throw myself down onto the floor, beat my fists, kick my legs, and throw a big, fat, whopping tantrum all my own.)
Not me!
Speaking of my children, we spent the better part of Wednesday this past week visiting the pediatrician. Let me tell you, three sick kids is no walk in the park (blog on that forthcoming this week...) And just so you have the complete picture of our family life, I want you to envision the following:
We arrived at the doctor's office on time (of course), sat nicely in the waiting room, and filled out some of the necessary paperwork. (We were not twenty minutes late, my children did not burst into the office like gangbusters, and I was not filling out paperwork with one foot rocking the baby carrier, one arm trying to keep Cameron out of the fish tank, and one hand scrawling chicken scratch onto the form, which was balancing precariously on my lap.) When the nurse called us, we all headed back to the exam room, walking calmly with our hands to ourselves and using our whisper voices. (I did not have to hurriedly gather three coats, three hats, a diaper bag and a baby carrier and chase after the two big boys, who were shrieking and jumping down the hall.) Once inside the exam room, Kayden sat patiently as the nurse took his temperature. When she sweetly asked him to follow her so she could weigh him, he obeyed promptly, exclaiming, "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! I love getting weighed! Let's go!" (He did not refuse to let the nurse take his temp, or throw himself on the floor in protest when asked to come to the scale. I did not have to drag him down the hall to the scale, holding a squirming infant in the other arm. He did not then collapse in a heap on the floor, go jelly-legged when I attempted to put him on the scale myself, or shriek in utter disobedience. I did not have to hand my infant to the nurse and excuse myself as I carried him to the bathroom for a "chat." Nor did said "chat" have absolutely zero effect on his wayward behavior.) We returned to the exam room after weighing the boys, and quietly read several picture books as we waited for the doctor. I did not have to chase Cameron down the hall not once, but three times, to find him in the waiting room, jumping from chair to chair.) I left the doctor's office feeling supremely confident in my parenting abilities, pleased as punch that my children are obedient, shining little stars in public. (It wasn't me who got out of that office as fast as my tired body could carry me, straining under the weight of a baby carrier, diaper bag, blankets, coats, and the train of toddlers I was dragging along behind me. And I certainly did not want to throw myself down onto the floor, beat my fists, kick my legs, and throw a big, fat, whopping tantrum all my own.)
Not me!
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"Not Me!" Monday is an incredibly fun blogging carnival started by MckMama. In a nutshell, it's where we all can be open about the ridiculous things that happen in our everyday lives. Head on over to her blog, where you can read heaps of other great "Not Me!" stories. Or, join in the "Not Me!" fun and leave a comment about all of the things you didn't do this week!
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