Funny Friday: Shop til you drop.

Taking three small kids shopping.  Whew!  That sentence was exhausting just to type, now imagine putting it into action.  You do the math:  two hands plus three children equals something using imaginary numbers.  More like imaginary arms.  I have a magnet that says, "If evolution were true, moms would have three arms."  And don't even get me started on the winter months with the snowsuits!

Somehow, when going to the grocery store, kids seem to have eight arms a piece.  They are like mini- Vishnus in diapers.  I find myself saying, "Take the sugar o's out of the cart," "Put back the vat of high-fructose corn syrup," "Yes, we can get the french fries.  I won't turn down french fries."  I'm a sucker.

It's not just groceries, it's other stores too that prove difficult.  As a warning to all moms:  Do not take three small children to Kohl's in the early afternoon (they are having a sale, ya know).  Lots of crotchety old women like to be all judgey because your children are running amuck through the racks and yadda yadda yadda.  And the croctchety old women like Kohl's because they sell ugly Christmas sweaters, so they won't be shopping elsewhere anytime soon.  Because those things sell like hot cakes.  Or should I say, fruitcakes? (rimshot)

Moms with three kids:  you know you plan your shopping trips around which stores have the double carts so you don't have to whip out the buggy.  This Walmart does...that Walmart doesn't.  All Aldis do.  And if you can hit a drive-thru on the way for some coffee? (because caffeine becomes it's own food group as a mother...)  Golden.  You've made this shopping trip a success.

The best part of a shopping trip?  It wears your children out.  The worst part?  It also wears you out.

I like to teach my children valuable life lessons while shopping.  Lessons like, if you walk in front of someone I will yank your coat to get you on the correct side of the aisle.  Or another important one, if you reach for candy while we are checking out, I will give you dirty looks that say "No, you didn't..."  I will also let my kids see me do magic:  here is some money....now it's gone!  And it has been replaced by....wait a minute, who put these sugar o's in the cart?!!!!

What are your shopping experiences like with kids in tow? 




 

Touchy Topic Tuesday: Rolling in the Deep.

Last week I was in this conversation that I didn't want to be in.  I could tell it was all superficial and I felt totally uncomfortable.  I was thinking, "Do these people even really like each other?  I can't tell."  It was small talk; but worse.  It was small talk lacking genuity, honesty, and connection.

Not that life has to be all serious.  Don't get me wrong, I am the first one to love laughter and silliness. 


Sometimes, though, I think we settle for Ke$ha when we could be listening to Switchfoot.  Catch my drift?  Let me explain.


I have often said that I want to be a living Switchfoot song.  The reason is, that their lyrics resonate deep within the soul and seem to remind us that we have some sort of meaning and worth in this time on Earth. Here is just a sample:


"Welcome to the fallout
Welcome to resistance
The tension is here
The tension is here

Between who you are
And who you could be
Between how it is
And how it should be yeah" (Dare You To Move, Beautiful Letdown)

OR

"Cuz everyday, the world is made a chance to change,
but I feel the same and I wonder why
would I wait till I die to come alive
I'm ready now, I'm not waiting for the afterlife" (Afterlife, Vice Verses)

As humans, we were made to have a deep connection.  And I believe it manifests in a deep longing of the soul, the kind that gives us awkwardness and satisfaction simultaneously.  The kind that calls us to be heroes in the mundane.  The kind that is richer than food or wine.  The kind that asks, 'where did this come from?'

How are you living life?  What would be your song?
 

Funny Friday: Up All Night.

(this post is dedicated to all the single white male 27-year old Brians out there in the world with three dogs who like to read mommy blogs)

Actually, this post might be mis-titled.  I am really only up until 11, but it honestly feels like all night at this point. 

Tonight I had the night all to myself! and 200 other people at a wedding.

My husband had to work late and had to miss this wedding.  So I flew solo.  I cannot even recall the last time I did this.

The wedding was a mini-class reunion.  I saw a few people I went to school with, and I thought they'd be all like "Wow, you look great!" while thinking "Wow, you got fat!"  Well, maybe they did think that.  I don't know, I'm not in their brains.  I made sure to work into every conversation that I just had a baby five months ago.  That's not even six months ago, so cut me some slack.

The highlight of my night was probably when I received a text from my mom saying I forgot to pack clean underwear for my oldest daughter.  Okay, ma!  Let me get right on that, after I eat my chicken marsala.  

Another highlight was when a classmate reminded me of when we were in 7th grade and I accidentally tripped him when he had a broken collar bone.  Oh my gosh I laughed so hard.  Then and now.  No, not really then.  I'm not that mean!

I also really enjoyed the wedding because of seeing all the white people try to dance. 

All in all it was a good night.

Touchy Topic Tuesday: Fight for community.

Living in the suburbs is hard.

Sure, we've got things to make it easy. Starbucks every 2.5 miles.  We've also got Monkey Joe's.  Or Chuck E. Cheese.  And lots of parks that are wonderful.

But remember the days of old when you were around friends all the time?  It seems that now when we get together with small children, it's hard to even concentrate for 5 minutes.  It's for sure more work than rest.  Don't get me wrong, I love having play dates, I love letting my kids play with friends' kids.

Sure, opportunities come up where we can get out without the children.  They are few and far between, but they are there.  Lots of times though, most of us cancel because we're too tired, too stressed, or too fill-in-the-blank.

Community during college days happened so naturally because we all lived right there.  We would hang out until the wee hours of the morning because we could.  We could walk to so-and-so's apartment.  Am I suggesting communal living as a solution?  Well...no.

But I think in the suburbs we have to fight for community.  And I think it's worth fighting for, because that is where living happens.  

What exactly am I suggesting?  Okay suburb peeps, more frequent nights together, watching movies, playing games, having a drink or two.  Sitter, you say?  They are there.  Get them.  There needs to be a real balance of family time and fun time.  Are your scales tipped too far one way?  I know mine are.


What is standing in your way, and what can you do about it?  And do you think I'm being too nostalgic, or that I'm onto something?

Funny Friday: My Ridiculist

Anderson Cooper, my boyfriend favorite news anchor, has a blog/segment for people who make his Ridiculist, you can see it here: ACisnotgay. (such as the Olsen twins $39k backpack....nuff said.)

I decided to make my own Ridiculist (if this becomes famous, please don't sue me, Anderson.  We have a special connection.  It's called cable).

1.  Quilted toilet papers.  Or any patterned toilet paper.  We use it to wipe our butts.  The marketing engineers on this product are geniuses, simply because they can take something absolutely disgusting and add some sort of matronly sentimental value to it.  Bravo, toilet paper marketers, bravo.  (these are my real thoughts as I grocery shop.)

2.  Ironing.  Where do we get this notion that straight/even clothing looks nice?  Why can't wrinkles be the norm?  Sure, I have my own personal penchant for wrinkles.  Well, not really a penchant, more like a lack of caring.  My poor children.

3.  Straight heads.  My son just got a helmet for his flathead.  Kinda silly, right?  Why do I want his noggin to be so round?  I think it's more appealing.  Yes, but why?  All right, I won't get all existential on you.  But other people are desiring round heads too, because we as a human race invented something as vain as a helmet that we subject our children to wear.  And they hate it.  Oh, the humanity!

4.  Farts.  Not that I think farts are actually ridiculous, but just that we still think they are gross/funny after thousands of years of farting.  Don't you think we'd be used to it by now?  Nope.  Still gross/funny.  

5.  Celebrities, in general.  Oh, get over yourselves.  Just live in normal houses and stop acting all pretentious.  I dare you!  Except for Tina Fey.  You, Ms. Fey are the perfect celebrity.

These are just a few of the things on my Ridiculist.  What would be on yours?

Touchy Topic Tuesday: Wrong Prescription.

Last week I decided to try a new pharmacy, a small business instead of a big chain.  I thought since I was paying out of pocket for the medicine that I might as well support this local store. 

I take Lexapro, which is a little round white pill that is scored in the middle.  When I picked up my medicine, which had my name and correct medicine labeled on the bottle, I was given white, oval pills.  I didn’t think much of it.  It was a new pharmacy and I thought perhaps they received the pills from a different wholesaler. 

I began taking the mystery pill on Wednesday, not thinking twice about it.  Thursday I began to feel dizzy.  By Friday I was so dizzy that I ended up in urgent care.  Diagnosis?  Vertigo due to a viral inner ear infection. The doctor could not actually see into my inner ear-for that I would have needed a CT scan, but since I was paying out of pocket, I declined.  I felt terrified, I had never felt this dizzy in my whole life.  I also started to experience other symptoms; an increase in anxiety and tingling in my hands and feet.  It did not even occur to me that I could be taking the wrong pill. 

I felt out of sorts, just didn’t feel normal that whole week, until I was out to dinner while visiting my sister in Florida, a week and a half after I had started the new pill.  It finally dawned on me that that could be the source of my problems.  We looked it up online when we got back to her place, and it turned out I was taking Lipitor, the cholesterol drug, for that time.

I was frightened but also relieved that I was not going crazy or had something more serious. 

I got in touch with the pharmacist who was more than apologetic, offering to make it up to me in several ways.  I still am not sure if I will continue to get my medicine there.  Some of you may be shocked that I am even considering it.

The reality is, mistakes are made, whether big pharmacies or small.  But my first thought was that I wouldn’t sue, knowing that this pharmacist, the owner, is a fellow believer (It’s my understanding to not bring fellow believers to court when disputes can be settled outside of it, 1 Corinthians 6:5-7).  I suffered some discomfort, but all in all, I will be okay.  This decision is not meant to make others feel less 'holy' or shamed for what they would do, I am simply stating my decision.

What would you do if your pharmacy swapped the wrong medicine?  Has this ever happened to you, and what came of it?

Funny Friday (on Thursday): Flying with kids

"I'm really looking forward to flying with my three kids!" said nobody.

I fly tomorrow, and honestly, I haven't thought much about just because, well, because it's awful.

Am I being melodramatic?  Yes.  Yes I am.

I hate flying by myself, let alone toting three little ones.  I've actually never flown with all three of them, so maybe it will turn out to be a wonderful experience. Hahahahahahahahahaha (forced laugh).

Even my husband thought it would not be possible to write a funny post about this topic.  I guess he was right.

I get the feeling that by writing this totally negative post that I'm going to get some kind-hearted responses about things to do on the plane with the crybabies...errr, I mean...       crybabies.  Refrain, and let me just have my freakout moment.  But you are so sweet.  Really.

I don't blame that one Asian country for banning kids from flights.  I think that is actually a good idea, in fact, I bet starting my own family-friendly airline could be so lucrative!  But I am lazy about that, so you ambitious people get a freebie.  You're welcome.

(oh and by the way, not flying totally alone with three children.  Besides the 150 other people on the plane, I will also have my mother)

SO...if you have some funny tips, I would gladly accept those....

Touchy Topic Tuesday: Letting Friends In.

The other day was a mess.

I was dizzy, more dizzy than I had ever been, and I was alone.  The girls were with their Papa and the boy was with a friend, while my husband was at work.  I sat in an urgent care room with two hospital gowns draped over me, waiting for the doctor to perform a neurological exam.  I was nervous to say the least; hysterical would probably be more accurate.

My friend was texting me to let me know that my son was beside himself and she could not get him to calm down.  I told her to bring him to the clinic while I waited.  But I knew that her coming also meant that she'd have to see me at my worst.

The only one who had really seen me at my most anxious state was my family, and mostly my husband.  I often close off this portion of my life because I didn't want to burden anyone with my anxieties.  I don't want anyone to worry for me.


My friend, though, is more than my friend.  She is like a sister, gladly laying down her own life to help others (well, she might say different, but this is what I see).  When she says "anything you need," she means it.  She knows how to love like Jesus.


And I was reminded of when the Bible says "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." (Gal. 6:2)  The law of Christ is to love God with all your self, and love your neighbor.  


My friend walked in on me at my worst.  She was worried, but I know she was praying for me.  She was bearing my burden.  She was wishing she could do more.  And even though we haven't talked much since it happened, I feel loved and supported and encouraged by her. She wasn't freaked out.  She didn't run.


It turns out I had vertigo, and my hypochondria had gotten the best of me.  I was a little embarrassed, as I always am when I find out what I had was not as severe as I feared.


Seeing me at my worst, I think my friend knows better what I'm going through and how to pray and care for me.  I still don't want her to worry, but I also know that her concern for me speaks volumes of her love.


My question for you is, do you let your friends see your worst?