the funny face through the window

I was reminded of a part in the movie One Fine Day (Clooney & Pfeifer) where she's at a business meeting in the evening and it's bleeding into her son's last soccer game...the BIG game, where he finally gets his trophy.

I told Audrey and Nina after dinner that I had to do work in the office. I got the usual "but I thought you didn't work anymore..." so I had to explain again that I still had to do work now and then. So I closed the french doors (that are all windows) and started typing. I got the feeling someone was staring at me.

I looked over and Nina's making funny faces at me, trying to get my attention. Bless her heart - she listened to my instructions to keep the door closed so I could work fast...but she couldn't resist letting me know she was waiting right outside.

Audrey can work a room--or yard--better than most adults

Three people at a BBQ told me they'd been talking with Audrey. Well, rather, Audrey had been talking to them. "I know her birthday is on July 13, that she'll be five, and that Petland is closing because not enough people were buying their animals."

Pretty much sums up what's most important to Auddie.

I cried during Sex & the City II

Yep, actually started to get the runny nose and everything. It was the part where (spoiler alert) Charlotte and Miranda are talking frankly about being moms. They said the stuff I believe (cross my fingers) most moms think, but hate to say aloud. Things like, "I needed a break from the kids."

It could have been aftershocks of the lemon drops in my system that made me do that cry/snort thing, but the scene struck a chord with me. For as much as I heart my kids, I do enjoy time with my fabulous girlfriends.

when holiday weekends don't feel like holidays because I'm still at home...

...same place I've been for the past 3 weeks in a row.

I love being home, don't get me wrong. But I've realized thsi week that when I've heard others say "so glad it's a 3 day weekend," I don't get so jazzed. It's now the same days I spend at home during the week - but with more people (Michael, plus another kid) that i feel like I need to entertain. They don't expect me to--I don't think--but it's a pressure I put on myself. Why can't I be wired differently?

inadequate in the water?

I've noticed a phenomenon in parent/tot swim class. In several cases, both mom and dad have been in the pool with the child. In fact, in all cases of this, the said child has been an infant.

Why does it take two parents to shove a baby underwater? I can't imagine both are in there because it's "fun." I'm not saying it isn't fun to watch your child in the pool--it is. I enjoy it immensely. But I would feel quite awkward about bringing the whole team into the pool to assist the not-even-a-tot. From what I've experienced, one parent holds the wanna-be swimmer and the other just wades in the pool. Now and then, they take turns bobbing the kid. Perhaps they're each just really into learning how to assist the new swimmer? Dunno. It's a mystery to me.

the summer playdate signup sheets

I spotted them at the other side of the gazebo at the preschool end-of-year party. The moms with sign up sheets for summer playdates.

In theory, it's a good idea. A group of kiddos get together throughout the summer to romp around a park, wearing each other out so that us SAHMs can enjoy a nap time (I don't get those right now).

But my fear--the thing that makes me start to sweat and run in the other direction in hopes of avoiding the signup sheet--is the reality that while my kids enjoy the organized chaos called playdates, I'll be on the sideline making conversation with other SAHMs...conversation about our kids, their schools, our houses, our husbands. We likely have similar stories, similar days, similar...everything? 

I can talk only so much about my day at home. What I also need--no, what I crave--is gossip. Entertainment gossip (shock and awe that Jesse James feels bad), please. Heck, I even prefer to trade trash magazines instead of coupons. And if I really want to satisfy a craving, I'd like to talk about photography...and editing...and poses... this topic, of course, minimizes my social circle, but a girl can dream (Britt, where are you?). There are other topics of interest--too many to name, really. But the gist of this is that I want to talk about things outside of my kids.

Does this make me a bad SAHM? I don't think so. I think it makes me an interesting one. And maybe I just haven't found the right summer playdate signup crew for me.

when you panic, turn up the music

The girls and I visited Christ the King to sign up Audrey and Grace for vacation bible school. While I completed paperwork, Audrey ventured into the church "store." Now, I'll admit that she hasn't spent a lot of time at church, but I'm sure she's seen Jesus on the cross before this visit. Regardless, she spotted him this time and she had many questions.

We get in the car and it begins. Here's a sampling of the inquisition:

Why was Jesus on that thing?
Why did he have holes in him?
Did they put nails in his face?
Did they put nails in his belly button?
Where did he go after that?
Did it hurt?
Did he bleed?
Why did they do it?

Why, oh why, I thought, could she not have asked the priest while we were there? Why must she pepper me with her insightful questions?

I tried - I really did - but I just didn't have all the answers. So I did what any good, tongue-tied mother would do, I turned up Mickey and shouted, "This is a great song!!"

SAHM-Sam I am

I'm on my third week as a new stay-at-home-mom--aka SAHM. How does one pronounce this attractive acronym? No clue. But many use it, and I will too.

My first week was eventful - at least I considered it eventful. Nina got mad and smeared gum all over herself. Peanut butter saved the day. She also spilled a bowl of cereal on top of Audrey's head. Skippy wasn't helpful this go-round, but by the time it happened, I wouldn't have had the energy to bathe them in it.

What I learned that first week was that my (old) day job was tiring--mentally--but this stay-at-home gig is physically exhausting.

wish me luck.